The Angora Hairshirt

picking sides

I'm working up a little Fiery Bolero with some Artfibers Golden Siam (color 29).  I love the yarn, but the thick/thin characteristic doesn't result in my favorite looking stockinette.  I noticed that I really like how the reverse side looks...  What do you think?

A friend at work who knits prefers the "stockinette" side, and knowing this would be a gift, commented that people might think the recipient is wearing the bolero inside-out.  I really don't think so.  I like the ripply look of the purl side, which I think makes more of the yarn's lovely sheen, and makes the more ivory colored spots more subtle.

As for more practical matters, I've never made a garment with reverse stockinette... is it any more difficult to make neat-looking seams?  I'm already a little concerned about the how the picking up and seaming will look with this uneven, sort of "rustic" yarn.

Am I a chump?

I thought I had learned my lesson with Knitpicks.  For me, at least, the Knitpicks lesson was:

ORDER A SHADE CARD, OR DO NOT ORDER YARN FROM KNITPICKS.

Now the Knitpicks lesson is:

ONLY ORDER FROM KNITPICKS IF YOU DON'T REALLY CARE WHAT COLOR YOU WILL GET.  A SHADE CARD ONLY GETS YOU SO FAR.

Case in point.  Compare Shine Worsted in "Green Apple" to Shine Sport in "Green Apple":

Sigh.  Excuse me, Knitpicks, I AM "concerned about color accuracy," but despite your tellingly long disclaimer, this isn't just me and my monitor.  It's you.  If you're going to offer the same yarn in different weights, DO NOT give two different colors the same name!

In more online yarn buying experiences than I can count I have never had such the disappointments and complete %(*&@! ups that I've had with Knitpicks.  It can't be just my monitor.  Fool me once...

excuses, excuses

In an effort to distract myself from some important but less-than-pleasant goings on and states of being in my life right now, I've fallen back on a couple of knitting-related excuses (among other vices) to busy myself and keep my mind off the icky bits.

The first is cleaning/organizing/purging the house.  This never really gets done, which makes it a constant source of strife, as well as a constant excuse for random organizational projects which make me feel productive but which are generally a way to procrastinate from doing the really hard parts of the job I don't really want to do and which never get done.  Perhaps we're all this way, but I have a tendency to procrastinate this way -- not by doing something really fun, but by doing something that feels like work so that I don't feel lazy for not doing the things I really should be doing.  It often involves a trip to Target or Ikea.

This weeks project: the stash.  Which really needs a new name.  "Stash" implies something you can hide -- stash away out of sight... a little something you know is there if you need it, but not everyone can see.  My collection of yarn is most definitely not a stash.  More like a stockpile.  But "stockpile" implies something inert.  My stash has a life of its own -- it needs a name.  Let's call it Boris.  (I was going to be all punny and call it Nastasha, which is appropriately evil in a Rocky & Bullwinkle way, but Nastasha was really just a ditzy foil -- Boris was the real evil genius.  Now to turn Boris into more of a Dudley Do Right... way to take the pun too far, eh?)

Boris has gotten quite out of hand, partly due to the fact that my first year as a knitter was notable more for frenzied hoarding of all the soft, cuddly, and brigtly colored discoveries of my new hobby than for actual knitting, and partly due to the fact that I am part Virgo, part walking disaster area, and my every effort to organize inevitably fails and ends up a big tangled mess.

I didn't give this any forethought, but somehow found myself on Tuesday night with my laptop on my dresser and Boris strewn about the bedroom starting an Excel spreadsheet of EVERYTHING.  As I entered each and every skein/ball/hang/tangled mess in the spreadsheet, I placed it within an appropriately categorized drawer/box/bin/spacebag.  I have returned to it nightly.  This is taking a very long time.  Which I have convinced myself will be worth it in the end, but which probably won't, and which in the meantime is functioning only to completely freak me out about how much freaking yarn I own.  It is SICK.  Boris is morbidly obese.  Initially I thought maybe I would post the inventory on the blog for motivation (to swap, to sell, to use, to NOT ADD TO!).  But shame prevents me.

This weekend I'm going to look into options for selling off a big chunk of this stuff.  Watch this space -- I will price well, and will be selling as much wool, alpaca, and mohair as possible (what was I thinking buying all that stuff anyway -- must secretly be planning to move back North) -- just in time for Autumn!  I'm thinking that I'll probably be selling a lot of basic wool, as when I first started knitting I thought felting was really cool, and I loved how it hid all sins, but I've realized now that it's not so practical for my life, though I still like to gift the occasional set of felted coasters, felted pet toys, etc.  I've got a bunch of Jo Sharp wool, Cascade 220, and some assorted others that I love (I really only buy what I love, but I love too much), but will find better homes elsewhere.

As for the second excuse, what could be a more appropriate counterpoint: buying MORE yarn!  Like I mentioned a couple weeks ago, I have fallen in love with Dale of Norway baby sweaters.  And with three babies born in the past couple months, one due next month, and two due in early 2007, there is plenty of baby knitting to do.  I'm in love with the same ones that Nancy is, and was thinking maybe we could work out some kind of economy of scale, since they use so many little bits of so many colors of Baby Ull.  So I spent a goodly chunk of procrastinating time making a list of all the little bits, and how they could most economically be bought for these sweaters (the gingham duck one requires THIRTEEN colors, and much less than a skein each of many of them).  It requires a big yarn purchase, but in the end, two sets of one each of those sweaters is much cheaper than buying yarn for each separately. 

Anyway.  I was kind of doing this because one of the stores around here that carries Baby Ull was supposed to have a sale today.  This is the same store that requires a $20 purchase for free parking, if you'll recall from a previous but similarly long and boring ramble.  After all my Boris-taming, I went in not totally convinced that I should buy, but went anyway.  Well, their advertised "sale" wasn't much of one.  Turns out it was summer yarns, which I learned after parking from the sign on the door.  When I got to the yarn department, turned out that I wasn't even really summer yarns, but batshit crazy wackadoo novelty crap.  Not one non-novelty yarn on sale.  Sigh.  And when I went to look at the Dale anyway, they only had a few of the colors I needed (much less than they had even a couple weeks ago).  Still, I had to spend $20, right? ;-)

I am proud to say that I walked out the doors of Michael Levine without a yard of yarn.  My $20 bought me another Dale book (check out the argyle sweater and tam -- hee!), a Fiber Trends needle felting starter kit, and a couple wisps of roving.  And free parking.  I call that an accomplishment.

Add to all this procrastinating plenty of going to work, playing tennis, working out, surfing the web, cooking dinner, watching Project Runway and the Daily Show, hanging out with friends, and writing this ungodly long and dull blog entry, and I've got what seems like a full life -- no room for all that crap I'm ignoring.

What crap?

ugh. It's hot again.

well, it is August, after all.  Time to get out into the cooler evening air for a picnic.

Sorry, Lola, you can't come.  I'll leave a fan on for you.

Despite the hot, I spent the day procrastinating from more mundane tasks by cooking up some picnic eats.  Plum tarts, blueberry tarts, and fried chicken.  Yum.  I'm actually much better known among friends as a cook than as a knitter.

leftover blueberry tart filling goes great with berry-lemon sorbet -- makes a tasty, if less than nutritious, lunch.  Wait.  Aren't blueberries a "superfood" ?!  Mixing them up with a little sugar and cointreau makes them even more super.

Done cooking.  Now back to the knitting.  I'm actually taking some knitting along.  The ribbing on the bottom of the Dale of Norway baby cardi I've started is very very boring (on US0s!), so I have to combine it with something fun so as not to daydream of stabbing myself with the teeny pointy needles.

not much to look at

I finished the "bolero with lace pattern" from Rebecca 31 a couple of weeks ago.  I followed the instructions dutifully, as I wasn't sure it would work, and I decied I needed to trust them and maybe the patternwriter knew something I couldn't see as I went along.  It didn't look like it could possibly fit evenly -- it looked like it would be loose in front and tight across the back, even though my gauge was spot-on.  I also feared that a regular bind off would be too tight and cut into the wearer's underarms (as it's much more of a "shrug" -- with the opening hugging tightly under the arms), so I bound off quite loosely.  This resulted in an FO that was not pretty, and looked like it might be too small and now bound off too loosely.  This is about as good as I could make it look:

I'm kind of surprised I didn't rip it out and re-try without even having someone try it on.  It is far too small for me to try it on.  Today, the day we are finally celebrating the recipient's birthday, I finally remembered to bring it along to work so a similarly petite and skinniminni secretary could try it on for me (I actually made her try on the cuff shortly after casting on -- I find myself second guessing a lot when I make things for adults that are nowhere near my size).  I was shocked that it really looked good!  The feature of this little shrug really is the back -- the way the lace pattern stretches across the shoulders.  The front really isn't much to look at (which I think is pretty typical of shrugs).  So I guess the Rebecca pattern writer was right -- it is tight across the back -- but it's supposed to be.  See?

(I didn't take a picture on Kathy because I hadn't woven in the ends yet -- still thought I might have to re-bind-off -- while neither Kathy nor the recipient are as plump as a down pillow, this is the only way I could figure out how to show the back in all its glory)

I was really happy when Kathy commented on how comfortable it was -- she didn't want to take it off!  All credit goes to the heavy and unforgiving, but soft and beautiful yarn.

Project Notes:
Pattern:  "Bolero with Lace Pattern" -- pattern 39 from Rebecca 31
Yarn: Classic Elite "Bam Boo" -- color 4957 -- "china blue"
Needles: US6 casein dpns (cuffs and edging), US7 Crystal Palace bamboo dpns (body)
Thoughts: I love this yarn.  It's drapey and gorgeous and vibrant -- perfect for little pieces like this shrug or maybe a cami (would be too bulky and heavy for a sweater I think).  I don't know why I didn't ignore the instructions to bind off the sections of the sleeves that form the back seam and just kitchener them -- I think it would have been easier and looked better -- but maybe this will be more sturdy.  I continue to have good luck with Rebecca patterns -- they are reasonably well-written (esp. considering that they're translated), and seem to always turn out as pictured and into versatile, wearable garments.  Reminds me to go out and get the new one this weekend!

I really hope my friend likes it -- she actually asked me if I would knit something for her (something most of my friends don't do for whatever reason) -- I hope she doesn't regret it!

morning after update: the shrug was very well-received.  However, we were in a crowded, darkish restaurant, so picture taking was ixnayed.  After taking the pix for this post, I hand washed it, and threw it in the dryer on low.  I know that's not the recommended care, but it had gotten kind of large and floppy in the wash, and besides, I try to be realistic about how the giftee will care for it and test it the same way myself.  It came through fine -- though I had to re-hide some of the woven in ends, and boy howdy did that thing take a long time to dry (ended up with the dryer on high in the minutes before having to dash off to dinner... between this and last Saturday, there's sort of a trend forming.  Next friend b-day celebration is Aug. 27, I guess we shall see...).

such a DAY

Okay, so this is the story of woe I meant to tell this morning when I posted the picture of the Neon Majolica in progress.  But I had a job interview today that I was all stressy about, so it had to wait.

Saturday, I had one of those days.  Please tell me you have them too.  Everything I did took at least 3 attempts.  Stopped at the grocery store, planning to get milk so I could make coffee once back home.  Forgot milk.  Realized that only after I had pulled out of the parking lot and headed to Target, hoping to swing by Starbucks (despite my better taste in coffee) since it's right next door.  Pulled out of the Target garage (yes, in L.A., we have to park in a godforsaken gridlocked underground garage just to go to Target) without coffee, of course.  Managed to finally pick up milk, only to realize, an hour later, that I had forgotten to make coffee when I got home and now had a raging caffeine-withdrawal headache.  I should have known then that it would be a DAY.

I'll spare you all the toe-stubbing, annoying neighbor whatnot, and skip to the knitting.  Saturday evening I was set to attend the birthday dinner of a friend.  She's one of those friends I like so much, even though she's more a friend-of-a-friend, and we only hang out every several months -- she's one of those people that, if we both had a lot more time on our hands, I would be great friends with.  Anyway, I mention this only because she's one of those people for whom the birthday thing is kind of hard.  I really wanted to do something nice for her, but she's not a close friend, and I really didn't know what kind of gift she would most enjoy -- perfect for a simple gift knit, right?

I had kind of burned out on knitting from the slutty sweater and swatching the neon majolica and was busy with life stuff, so I didn't start until Saturday, of course.  I decided that a couple of linen facecloths would be the perfect gift -- so universally useful so as to negate the fact that I don't know what she'd like, yet handmade and thoughtful.  I even remembered to pick up some lovely soap to go with it.  Which, come to think of it, is probably what made me forget the milk.

I had bought some Louet Euroflax last summer with the intent of making a bunch of facecloths for Christmas gifts.  Suffices to say that it was waiting for me still on Saturday.  I had picked up Barbara Walker's charted stitch pattern book at the library last week, and picked a couple of patterns that I thought would be quick and suitable.  I think it was only then that the caffeine withdrawal really set in.  The linen is pretty wiry and splitty.  Not so much that I wouldn't knit with it again, but enough that it slowed me down -- particularly as I only had wood needles available in the size I was using.  I plopped down in the backyard and worked away, wondering all the time whether I really would have time to finish two in one afternoon.  I thought maybe I would when I was about 3/4 done with the first -- patterned with a basketweave surrounding squares of moss stitch.  I held it up (as if admiring my progress), and noticed (ACK!) that I had f-ed up one of the basketweave bits.  Okay, I freely admit that I am a Virgo, and therefore perfectionistic and a bit rigid, but really -- it's one thing to mess up a bit of moss stitch.  It is quite another for a basketweave to not "weave."  I stared at it for 5 minutes (okay, probably 15 seconds) before I realized that it had to be fixed.  From about 25 rows above.

So I ditched the idea of a second facecloth and dropped the stitches (only two), thinking that at least it would be good practice in dropping and reknitting.

I hunched over the kniting, meticulously re-purling the purls and re-knitting the knits. 

I got about 10 rows in.  My back was getting sore from tensely crouching, but I felt vindicated -- making right what had gone wrong.  I held it up to admire how much better it looked.
.
.
.
I had dropped the wrong two stitches.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!

But, in a way, I was very satisfied with my principled decision to fix it, and not just give up.  I dug in my heels.  I dropped the two stitches I should have dropped in the first place.  Now, of course, 4 stitches to fix.  Time to leave for dinner was quickly approaching.

Back to picking up.  I was gaining momentum.  I was fixing row by row almost as quickly as I had knit them (well, in my head at least).  I reached the home stretch -- only 4 rows to go.  I took a little break.  When I came back, I thought "what is that loop... that stray yarn there?"

I HAD MISSED A ROW!  The un-re-knitted length of yarn from about 3 rows up from the initial error was just hanging loose at the back.  AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

What remains of the ensuing fit of rage still sits on my coffee table.

I started a new facecloth.  It has a mistake in it.  This normally would bug me, but at least I have enough self-awareness to know that by that time there was no way I had the capacity to knit well.  The finished cloth is short of square because I only had enough time left to finish two repeats of the pattern I was using and cast off.  Actually I didn't even have that much time -- I cast off 10 minutes before the dinner reservation many miles away in Hermosa Beach.  Now, I do live in one of the only places in L.A. that can legitimately claim, a la Clueless, that "everyplace in L.A. is 20 minutes," but, to make a long story short, I got to dinner about 45 minutes late.  A score of little dramas between binding off and finally getting a glass of wine in hand, of course

The facecloth was universally admired and appreciated.  All frustration was forgotten.  Well, sort of.  I'm writing this epic, aren't I?  At least blogging is much cheaper than therapy.  And since no one can possibly get to the end of this rant, no one suffers.

I really did like the pink

I so wanted the pink to work.  But the red looks much, much better.

Now about all that puckering...

gaudy or girly?

Can a little girl's sweater be too brightly colored?  Or rather, colored with too many bright colors?

I was apparently so pleased with the new Fall Interweave Knits (a number of really cute patterns, and relatively few clunkers!) that I dove head-first into Little Majolica, which seemed perfect for the big, bright stash of GGH Bali cluttering my house.  I bought several colors originally for Anouk, which I got halfway through, but didn't love enough to finish, and have bought a couple more colors at sales because I think Bali is a great yarn for kids and our warm climate.

Anyway, I started this one last night and immediately fell in love with it.  I really am kind of obsessed with colorwork at the moment.  I really dig the two-color garter stitch border.  But once I started the body, with the fuchsia and salmon colors, I started to worry that I was making one seriously gaudy sweater.

The colors are not quite as saturated as they appear in this picture, but they are bright.  That ball in the back on the left is the only other potential color I have.  It's a slightly blue red, which I initially ruled out because it was just a little too primary to go with the other brights.  I've only got one ball each of the blue, green, and orange (and I really do love those colors in the border), so the red, fuchsia, and salmon are the only contenders for the two body colors.

I think I'm going to continue for a little while, and continue schlepping it around with me so I can poll anyone and everyone on the color combo.  Either it will improve as the high-contrast border becomes less prominent, or it will get worse if the fuchsia/salmon combo doesn't work.  I guess if it really starts making me unhappy I'll bust out the red and try swatching the other possible combos.  Hopefully one of them will work, 'cause I'm not buying any more yarn, and I'm really really loving this sweater, at least in theory.  What do you think so far?

Here's hoping for good genes.

About that Norwegian thing... Yesterday I went to Michael Levine to get some buttons for the little boatneck sweater (it is very dangerous having that place so close to work -- it's as if the universe is trying to find some "money in, money out" equilibrium for me).  Parking in the garment district of L.A. is a bitchandahalf, and to get 1 hour free parking in the Michael Levine lot, you have to spend at least $20.  So, given that the buttons I chose cost all of 80¢ and my ability to rationalize massive amounts of yarn buying despite my completely out-of-control stash, I headed over to their knitting section, where I immediately spotted a knitted sample of this:

So unbelievably cute.  The "grass" section uses two shades of green and a trellis-like stitch pattern that gives it texture, and the lamb is embellished with fluffy embroidery to make it puffy and oh-so-cute.  Of course, I immediately picked up the pattern book, where I saw this:   and this:   and this:

The frustrated childless woman in me was powerless to resist them.  And my favorite rationalization for knitting purchases is a new challenge.  It seems somewhat virtuous that way -- yarn buying as self-improvement.  Yeah, that's the ticket.  So I headed home with this (every pattern in it is cuter than the one before) and some of this.  Hey, at least parking was free!

I haven't done much colorwork.  I'm not all that experienced a knitter, and unfortunately my knitting time is often so broken up and on the fly that it's really hard to commit to a project that requires me to be married to a chart.  My experiences with intarsia have been frustrating and unfulfilling.  Yet I have for some time felt the pull of stranded knitting.  There have been a few fair isle sweaters I've been tempted by (one from VK I think last fall, and the one from the new Interweave), but they're not really my style, so I haven't taken one on yet.

Something Norwegian just feels right.  I'm sort of Norwegian in that Wisconsin Norwegian-American way.  We always had pickled herring and lefse on Christmas Eve (thankfully no lutefisk).  I can even make some pretty good lefse, though not nearly as good as my late great aunt Carla.  So I should have the genes to master Norwegian knitting, right?  Here's hoping.

I'm not dumb enough to take on the lamb one, much less the gingham one with the little ducks (even though I love it so).  I think I was reasonably realistic in deciding to try this one first:

Before I even start, I need to do my homework.  I will be reading the pattern several times for starters.  I will also be consulting whatever books and internet resources I can get my hands on for advice.  One of the most important things I need to deal with is yarn choice.  While I'd love to make it in wool, if I actually finish this one it will be going to a baby boy here in Los Angeles, and cotton really is far more practical here.  Especially for a sweater with extra thickness from the stranding.  I suspect I may regret the choice of cotton when it comes to steeking, but there's got to be a way, right?  Then again, I wasn't thrilled with the color selection for Stork -- no particularly good colors for a fun boyish sweater -- they need a nice, bold green -- so I might not be too troubled if I have to go exchange for some Baby Ull, which has a bigger selection.

So off to the library for me, and to pray that generations of Norwegian women before me have passed along some good knitting genes.

update:  While at the library, I found this.

It has a section titled "Your Horse is Next (The latest in circular knitting)," in which instructions are given for knitting a saddle blanket in the round using a cut length of garden hose!  And which of course comes right after the pattern for a "Wall Hanging" designed to show off the blue ribbon said horse won at the fair.  A quick google tells me I'm probably the last to know about this book.  Good god, it's funny.  And such good advice: "To get the feel of the needles and yarn, you should start by knitting something for someone uncritical.  Your dog won't mind a small blanket with an irregular shape and unusual stitches."

If anyone has gotten a dozen feeds of this post because I keep updating it -- sorry!