knitted out, socked in

Sunday at KnitOut NY. The weather, a last hurrah summer day, was screaming BEACH but off I went to deliver a poster for the Red Scarf Project (get one yourself for printing out and hanging up at your local kntting venue, see info in my last post) to Annalisa from the Orphan Foundation, and catch up with friends.

Who would have thought that so many many people would choose to throng around yarn on a hot sunny day?

Two non-knitting friends & I met up just as the doggy fashion show launched. Furry animals in acrylic knits in 80 degree F? We went scurrying to brunch on a shady side street and that was it for a couple of hours. I love knitting, I can talk knitting any day, I'll knit anywhere but there's your proof. I'm not truly hardcore.

My favorite planned sighting? Kay and HaikuPanderer Cara, later, while the KnitOuters carried on stickily. You'd think being a photographer and all I'd be showing you a photo of them smiling, right? OK, they looked just like (if you scroll down a bit) this image of them over at Yarn Harlot's NYC roundup but I bet Stephanie saw them earlier in the day, by late afternoon we was all a bit wilty. So I thought I'd point the lens only at, y'know, real strangers. . Whatever. Friends don't let friends appear wilty.

Back at the ranch, the Rodeo socks are finished. I'm happy, but wish the cuff were an inch longer. Entry level sock knitter that I am, I was so excited to get to the heel I started it too soon.

I'm not sure what this says about me, or my neighbor: Monday morning, she comes upon me sitting on my front steps in the sun, in shorts, photographing wool socks on my very own feet. Not batting an eye she walks over and starts talking about unrelated business, never letting on that anythng slightly odd is going on.

Soon as she left, I whipped this out. With the Rodeos done, I cast on for my next pair. In the throes of first sock enthusiasm last spring I pounced on this Lornas Laces stripey yarn from the DeStash site. Six months later I'm thinking..."what was I thinking? Egg yolk and Playdoh blue? why?" but its coming along cheerfully and less garishly than anticipated. Might be just the thing on a grey winter morning. Such very nice feeling sock yarn. This time, no skimping on the cuffs.

get out your red yarn and dance

Its time to start a scarf.


More info, an FAQ, links to buttons and plenty of company knitting along here .

The piece above is available as a big honking ready-to-print-as-a-poster hi-res JPEG. I'll send it to you. Strings attached (of course. are we not knitters?). You must promise to print it out & bring it to your local yarn store and get them to hang it up. Or anywhere else knitters are found. Send me an email at: ezisus at snet dot net .

loose ends

Some literal.

.

Some figurative. What better time than Labor Day weekend to tie up the strings of summer left hanging?

The mitered square collaborative afghan , with my sister, started with a Memorial Day weekend cast-on. In a brilliant flash of knitting symmetry, I knit the last 2 squares today, the Saturday of Labor Day weekend . I could do more. I never tired of knitting these. Seaming, screaming and border scheming to follow.

For those who commented on the possible trauma to our sisterly relationship I'm happy to report we're getting along as well as ever. She joined us for dinner last night . We bickered opined opposing only over 1) how to cook the crabs
2) whether to make pasta or if bread & corn were enough carbos
3) whether I baby my younger son too much
4) whether a certain friend is nice but shy or has annoying social skills
and, finally, 5) whether Lauryn Hill's version of Killing Me Softly with The Fugees is really great or should be turned off immediately.

But the afghan? We're totally getting along over the afghan. Phew. Not to worry.

In other loose ends and I believe we're getting literal again here, the dog's has successfully healed back on . I'm going to spare you any dog butt imagery. Before or after. The word ass-meat ,however, keeps getting stuck in my head.

Continuing...last June I tempted my mom into sock knitting (you'll need to scroll down to the last 'graph on the post) on a visit when I tried the magic loop and sucked her right into casting on a pair. In poetic knitting justice, her first socks came out in a size that only fit me, amongst the five women in our family.

My lack of competition for ownership may have everything to do with our voting them "Most Ugly Self-Striping Sock Yarn Ever Invented or Sold" . Mom wasn't very happy with them, she didn't like the sport weight yarn look, and so here's what I saw during my visit last week, with some fingerweight

:

My socks from that June visit, fyi, are an inch from completion.

The remants of Ernesto are blowing hard, it looks like summer's about washed up here in the Northern Hemisphere. I hate to see it go.............

my vacation? it was...Fetching

It really was.


Pattern: Fetching from Knitty

Yarn: Hopyards Spinnery Farmhouse Yarns. Andy's Merino in Magenta....I think. This was part of the grab bag I, umm, grabbed.

Notes, modifications and an excuse for why these look quite different than the pattern as written:
First off, the yarn is heavier, so I went down to size 5 needles. I cast on 40, instead of 45 stitches. When you're talking mitts, it gives them a different look with one less rib.

And speaking of needles? It occured to me that the magic loop could be used well here. No dpns were lost in making these mitts! Admittedly a cable needle took the leap into sand at surf's edge. With the tide rising before I noticed, it was covered and gone. It was one of those small curved metal ones, so when it shows up piercing a skim boarder, I bet a fisherman will get blamed instead of a knitter. I am torn between feeling guilty and smirking over this.

Secondly, I finished the first mitt. It was skimpy. I took a good look at the pattern sample photo and I'd indeed re-created the item . It wasn't what I had in mind. More coverage was in order.

I am very relaxed on vacation, it bothered me not a grain of sand to rip it out and start over. This version has more length before the thumb to make the wrist longer, and an extra repeat of the cable round, after 7 plain rounds, before I cast off. The thumb, too, was extended.

Thirdly, that cast -off. I love the picot cast off on the pattern. It somehow looks raffish and polished at the same time. Not in a heavier yarn though. In this lovely yarn it looked too rough and hung away from the hand. I tried a picot-every-three-stitch cast off. That looked plain old strange. I went with a cast off in rib pattern. I'll save the picot for a Fetching pair knit in a lighter weight yarn.

Finally, the alert amongst you'll notice the cables are the same on each hand, although the designer cleverly made them cross in opposite directions so there'd be a Left and a Right. I love details like that! But apparently, not enough to cut through to my brain while I was knitting them. With no gussets, it hardly matters, the fit is identical. So, my left handed sister will receive two left hands for her birthday later this week. Does that make me extra thoughtful? Or what?

seaside

The pears, the guys, the long ignored sock knitting, the cameras, the lighting, the clothes, the music, we have all hit the road. Our first stop , DC for some work. A shoot that had, in part, this knitterly charm.

Then everything back in the car, on to the family rendezvous at the Delaware beach. The single category of Item Not Along for The Week? The miters. My little square friends and companions this summer are sitting it out at home, to save the surprise of their existence from my parents who will, someday not too far in the future, receive the squares in afghan form.

So there I was in my beach chair right at the edge of the surf, knitting away on a sock, when a woman jogging by in a bathing suit smiled, nodded her head, and as she passed, this trailed out toward me from over her shoulder "hey, good beach project!"

csi local

I don't need Horatio Caine (who makes up these names?). I have all I need to identify what's going on here. Process this:

evidence of a good outing

Julie & I went to the Hopyard Spinnery's Farmhouse Yarn sale. Its exactly on the way to nowhere, just past the charming village of East Haddam, CT. If you can't get there this week, at least look at the yarns and ask your LYS about them. Heavenly. I may have mentioned in the past how jelly-like and spaced out indecisive I am in a normal yarn store. I am not stash prone. Without a project in mind, pointed at an array of fiber, I am jello left too long on a sunny picnic table. I'm the one who walks out empty-handed.

So there I was, with a meadowfull of rubbermaid tubs of half price yarn ( how many tubs can a meadow hold? like, I dunno, a few hundred in case you're wondering), behind which sits a small barn full of mixed up tubs of handyed yarn of many weights and styles, which , we were told by the dyer herself, we should stuff into a shopping bag and pay $ 89. for the whole lot. Really? I hesitated. Julie plunged. We shared a bag. I think she could see I might just implode otherwise. It was a Very Good Outing.

When we unstuffed the bag later, our juicy assortment included this selection of mine.

Do you think I still had beet juice on my mind when I picked up these? This'll take care of that itch, in a way that only beautiful dyed merino can. I just love it, I'm thinking simple striped lengthwise scarf for me.

This morning, grievous evidence of a tiny fruit thief. This, on the left,

is what I saw on the back deck this morning. I practically flew over to the tree to make sure it wasn't stripped bare. Its our 14th summer in this house, it came equipped with 2 spindly pear trees out back. Each year we watch 2 or 3 lonely pears develop a bit, then rot or fall off or just lose their will to thrive . This year? A bounty. A mystery of green speckled beauty. We decided the crime scene should be taken as a hint, not an affront

.

Harvest time!

miter diplomacy Round 1

Our call to Kofi Annan for peacekeepers went unanswered. We read the papers. We understand. The first round of mitered square afghan assemby had to be handled all by ourselves.

Our plan was, start out calmy with a limited square swap, no need to attempt a full afghan layout. We'd mix up our use of colors and stripes, sew them into sets of four independently and meet again in two weeks to lay out the whole she-bang.

We have no restraint. 30 seconds after I walked into her place:




Tendencies quickly emerged.

There was reconsideration.........

and we found an agreeable first layout, knowing we still had options, when we meet again with these in sets of 4.

We have five squares left to knit, we wanted to see if any color combo was obviously missing. Umm, yeah, right.
After I showed her a really lumpy demo of how to do mattress stitch (not), we decided to see how long it'd take to steam/iron and weave in ends of a couple of squares.
Its not so bad. Really.

had to, want to, won't

Had to: buy this shirt.
I spent most of the weekend shooting a tourism job featuring an arts festival. With vendors. Sure the theory here is make money, not spend it, but how could I pass this by?

Want to: koolaid dye a big pile of sturdy Newfoundland gray worsted wool that a friend gave me in May. I was so happy with my light gray overdyeing last year and looking at Kathy's dyeing successes inspired me . I keep thinking of beets and the juice they make in such tempting deep red tones....

Won't : No beet dyeing! Here's why not. How much do I love the internet? I could easily have spent a whole day and a big honking red mess of cooked beets to end up with crappy brown on gray. mmmm-mm. Note that the site, which looks immensely helpful if you are interested in dyeing, opens with "novice dyers assume that beets will make a good dye" . Oh heellloo? over here? That's me you're speaking to!

I wonder if anything in my garden would make a good dye? I wonder if I'd be better off tucking a tiny sign in the flowers that says " KoolAid! Aisle 5. Go Now"

p.s. go click on the Yarnival button in my side bar, its a great idea by Eve . She must be a whiz at this editing/blogging/linking speed warp thing or maybe a lot of time on her hands..either way, I'm looking forward to learning about some new blogs this way. Check it out.

rekindled

Waterfire in Providence last Saturday night.

(Note the subtle titling to work this in. ) If you can, go. Schedule here. The image doesn't come close to the impact. Several city blocks of bonfires, lit in an old canal/river downtown, while music speakers set above the water line play haunting accompaniment: monks chanting, opera, world music. Its awesome in the true sense of AWE. Thousands of people show up to stroll & watch but its just about silent as this shirtless guy in the jean skirt - yet somehow looking extremely macho- lights the braziers from a black boat, except for one end of the canal, here, where he walks on old bridge supports. There's close to a hundred fires blazing by the end. Even the teenagers along reluctantly on this Mandatory Family Outing were blown away.

OK, we turn now from tribal togetherness and beauty to miters. A few more completed, clearly I was on a cream jag here. So far no two are alike.

I've been finishing miters and sticking them into plastic bags casually, when last week the mitering sister called to say she'd finished about a dozen, how was I doing.

To our surprise, when I took them out to count, our project is just like my mental state this week: only ten squares short of a full afghan.

No Mo SloMo

I could tell you what happened to me in July if only I knew what it was. Not doldrums, not lack of inspiration, nothing bad or sad or nasty. I apparently went into slo-mo. I have unfinished blog entries that document the condition, but I'll spare you.

Instead I'll show this baby hat and booties.

Pattern for the hat is from AlterKnits, the booties are a basic Lion Brand pattern and in real life are the same size as each other, I am a bad stuffer. I'd choose a more refined pattern for the next pair. An aside: do not do a search online looking for "booty". Trust me. I love this yarn. The colors are wonderful, the feel is soft & spongey, all this from one skein with a bit left over, and the hat reminds me very much of the tie-dyed new mama its going to.

The house refilled with guys, the camping son returned with a gimp addiction "Mom, its just like you with the knitting. I can't stop when I'm sitting around"


I managed to turn out one squoosh hat. Its KnitPicks Shine again. Love the stuff. I could be their poster child knitter. This specific hat didn't expand enough for the big headed friend it was supposed to cap, it was snapped up by another guy , so my squoosh backlog remains static. NO complaints, I like making these from time to time. Its nice to be appreciated by the sweaty teen boy herds. History of the squoosh hat here , toward the bottom of the post.

So if its productivity you're looking for, try the farmer's market.
Or my maybe next blog entry, I feel like the lethargy is lifted. Or maybe its the deadlines I have this week.........

I might be mitering

Many thanks for the dog sympathy, he's in decent shape, considering.

The incident, summed up in a letter from one son to his brother at camp:
"Gordo was attacked while I walked him. Pit bulls. He has his ass-meat sewn back on."
Would Hemingway be proud?

Lets move from ass-meat to yarnly pursuits, shall we?

More miters. Notice how few stick to the two color scheme. My un-Hemingway-esque tendencies to add more color and detail, revealed.

You'd think I'd have dozens additional, this week both my sons are gone. Its dashed my illusion that if only the guys weren't around all the time, I could catch up on work , the house'd be clean and stay that way, I'd reorganize my office, really get a ton of knitting done, go through the old clothes, finish that backyard landscaping project, make stuff (any stuff! lots o'stuff!), organize.

Not so much. I've been socializing, moving slowly, leaving dirty dishes in the sink (do not tell them! I am the dirty-dish police!) , we've been hanging out at the beach at dusk with wine...oh yeah, I remember, what we used to do 15 years ago before we were parents, what made me think we'd changed or grown? I'd like to tell you I'm off to do some of the productive things I just listed . Instead I set up some double parking out front, I persuaded a friend to come over and go for a paddle and swim.

(later ) Look what she brought me, you know what we'll be doing at night for the rest of this week. At least I knit while I watch, except the killing parts where I need to cover my eyes . Bada BING!

what you don't want to hear on the eve of a holiday weekend

(phone rings, its my older son who's taken the dog for a short hike with friends)
Mom! Quick! Bring the car down to the start of the trolley trail. Some dogs attacked Gordo and he's bleeding. We have to get him to the animal hospital. One was a pit bull....


I'll skip the nasty details, the closeup shots of the ooozing stitched up wounds with drains when we picked him up at the emergency hospital the next morning, the profanities spouted and the horrifying total of the vet bill. He's going to be OK but is looking pretty sad, and doped up.

The trip back to the beach in Delaware was cancelled but it s a beautiful weekend here, not such a bad Plan B. Friends made us a birthday dinner complete with sparklers and ice cream. Although considering that the dog leaves smeary stains from his wounds, I probably shouldn't have rented the steam carpet cleaner until after this is all healed.

Sock! The magic loop is the way to go for me. I just love this one. I couldn't have planned it but look how the yarn placed the heel colors and toe striping. I decided to try a three needle bind-off on the toe instead of grafting with kitchener. Worked for me. Thinking it might be a weaker ending, I reinforced it by sewing in the yarn ends. Its less fiddly and quicker, which is what I want when the knitting is over.

And my mom's sock adventure? She finished it, calling twice to make sure she interpreted the 4 needle pattern I'd given her onto the circ correctly, kvetching just a little that she really wasn't sure this was her kind of thing. Yesterday she called to say its done, its kind of cute but the sportweght sock yarn isn't as nice looking as that fingering weight I'd had, and she knew her lys was having a sale this weekend...... I believe she's hooked.

Have happy 4th to those in the US. Next post, the expanded miter square collection.

A bit of sky this week by the Old State House in Hartford CT.

contagion

I admire those who blog every day. How do you do it? Since my last post...

Summer arrived. I know this because we had our town road race (no member of my family looked this cute across the finish line, btw) and the daylilies bloomed.
School ended, and the concept of "working" from home went down the drain faster than you can fling a fully loaded backpack across the room yelling "DONE!". Until camp and summer programs start.
We headed south to the beach in Delaware for some family togetherness, since attempting anything productive during this limbo period is futile .
Before I left, 3 more miters and one started in just slightly more subdued tones. Couldn't take it along, since that'd reveal the surprise to my parents. In truth, my dad wouldn't notice if you were knitting an atom bomb but my mom'd be all over it, wondering what stitch you'd chosen to convert the plutonium.

I returned to the socks, but not without a complete insurance package.

Funny thing happened on my way to the magic loop. Before I cracked the pamphlet I decided to knit my stitches from the dpns, where I'd knit about an inch of cuff, onto the circs. Predictably by the time I got to the third needle, things were getting tight. I figured I'd pull up some cable to ease it, then I'd figure out what the "magic loop" procedure was all about. Well, duh, that was it. I offered the pamphlet to my mom who was looking on skeptically at the whole operation.

My mom is an ace knitter. She should be, her mom owned a dry goods store in the South Bronx in the 1930's-50's. Grandma gave sidewalk knitting lessons, with neighborhood women perched on milk crates. (and yes, I wish I could go back in time to that). But she doesn't love knitting in the round and hasn't knit socks since she was a teenager.

One quick bike ride to the lys, and look what happened.

my weekend knitting theme song

If I had one, would have featured Mick Jagger and started out " I Can't Get No......"

Half finished home improvement disrupting projects scattered anywhere I set my eyes. Two sons making me crazy with their plans (and lack of interest in mine). Escape into knitting was required. What?
Only two more miters and I realized the mail hadn't brought more yarn. I was flat out, unless I want a square that is all cream colored with maybe 4 rows in mixed colors.

I returned to my Opal Rodeo sock. I was just about up to the toe decreases when I tried it on. I knew it was a little snug, knew I wished the cuff a bit longer...but I didn't know about the big honking hole in the gusset/ankle area. Where did that come from? Upon closer inspection, a tiny dropped stitch, no doubt off the end of one of my traveling dpn toothpicks, had started to run, creating a stinkin' hole.

Three strikes against this sock , out I ripped. This did not make me any happier. Return to the Rodeo is now at about an inch.

Without wasting any more time (ha) I re-read a socks on circs tutorial, still didn't quite get it, took a leap and ordered a long circular needle. I was ordering more Shine Worsted , anyhow.

This last was, admittedly, satifsying: my 15 year old was seen by friends in one of his squoosh hats, and now they asked if I might, please, maybe, could I, if I had time, make them one too. Are there sweeter words? Aside from, can I help clean up the yard, sure I'd love to go to the festival with you and then I'll go study for finals. I didn't for the record, hear those last three phrases this weekend.

I wandered through the homestead looking at the half-mulched front yard (ran out of chips), the living room where I decided to reaarange furniture and talked Dave into helping me get rid of a truly disgusting old sofa, only to realize its replacement wasn't ready yet (frame only), wandered up my my office where I'd stalled reorganizng a shelf last week - what has gotten into me???- didn't even look at the unweeded back gardens. Felt like a lunatic.

Until I finally saw that fat old full moon Saturday night. A-Ha! Ended the weekend on the beach with a beer and my little bit of sock.

Peony, mint & false Indigo bouquet from the yard. Very satisfying!

comments on comments/comments on miters

I have a comment problem. I love getting comments (except from those who want to sell something or enlarge non-existent parts of my anatomy) but there's something about my settings that many come with a "no reply" tag address. I can't Use My Manners and write back to you.

This may give the impression that I'm either incredibly lazy or incredibly rude. In truth I may be a little of both but if I could write back, I would. Sometimes I can sleuth it, channeling my inner Harriet the Spy. Some are just dead end links. So..that said. I apologize. Keep them comments coming.

To answer pressing comments: Kay asked if my sisters would get response time while the afghan collaboration is chronicled. My answer: are you kidding? Uh-unh. They don't even know I have a blog. sshh. Its just a matter of time before one of them hits it while surfing. Anyway. They would only seize it as an opportunity to correct me and reveal how insufferable I am as an older sister. So, in short. no.

Elysbeth (I can only find you here, do you have a blog?) asked to see more of my bag. You betcha. She called it fab and she's right. You can keep your handbags, purses, clutches, baguettes, evening bags. Give me a nice capacious tote anyday. This is one of my favorites, it reverses from vintage floral to a red denim but I almost never flip away from the retro flower side. Credit due, as with most of my nicer accessories, to the tighter miter sister who gifted me with it a couple of years ago. The company makes a lot of bags with retro fabric , go look but I warn you, you'll buy something to carry your summer knitting in.

On to my miters. Layed out randomly.

No one warned me how addictive these are. Once you get to the middle of one, the finish is just minutes away, thanks to quickly diminishing size. Talk about the thrill of victory, they just pop right off the needles. I am also having a hoot with the colors, so inaccurately captured in these photos. Combos that I thought I'd hate, look good. The hues change with proximity. I don't see boredom setting in for a good long while. The main reason I don't have more - aside from a full plate o'work and family demands- is I've almost used up my first order of yarn and am dragging the sticks till the next order gets here. Square eight is on the sticks for me.

Lulu is on her second, I haven't seen 'em but she warned me that they are presently more "homemade than handmade'. This was a major mantra of our mom's when we were growing up, you were always aiming to cross that thin line into handmade. Kind of an outdated saying, as homemade now means you have the luxury of time at home, but it used to be an insult, as in you couldn't afford storebought.

Nevertheless she's saying she's got issues with her miters. As in some have holes. The other two knitters join in when school ends June 18th. I'm not worried. And neither is Lulu. Says she, steely glint in eye "well, I may not do so great with the squares but when it comes to laying the whole thing out, I'll know exactly where to put each one"