New Digs

This little blogspot has been my home since January 2006.  I've been contemplating switching services for a long time now, and now I've gone and done it.  Don't let me be lonely over there, all right?  C'mon over, and say hello!

The Part I Didn't Show. The Stuff I Haven't Said.

I have an ever-growing list of blog posts I need to write - it was at 12 at last count - and yet I feel bad to post when I haven't yet responded to the comments in previous posts. You guys left me some big Tomten love, as well as some fabulous ideas for what to do with my mistakenly-purchased canvas (list included at the bottom of this post). Even though I haven't responded to individual comments, I want you to know how VERY much I appreciate each and every one. Your encouragement and advice keep me going! I want to do better with writing back to each comment, and I may be on the verge of a non-blogger option, but in the meantime, I have to just go ahead and post again. So here I go.

Regarding the Tomten and its gigantic hood, Rebekah suggested the possibility of sewing it smaller. That is exactly what I would like to do, if I had a clue how to do it. I keep looking at it and trying to figure out how I would go about doing that, and I can't get my mind around it. If anyone has ideas, do tell.

I swear someone somewhere suggested that he would grow into it, but now I can't find any comment like that. Still, I had to show you why that is simply impossible.

Here's the Tomten, on my larger-than-average adult noggin.
Little Buddha inherited my genes in the big-head department, but I still don't think even his head will ever fit this hood. A family of squirrels, perhaps. But not a human head.
It isn't as obvious on Little Buddha, because when he wears the hood up he doesn't pull it any further forward than this:


which then gives this jaunty gnome-like effect in profile:


(I know I showed these pictures in my last post, but I couldn't keep myself from posting them again. I'd hate for the only pictures in this post to be the ones of me looking ridiculous)

Having finished Little Buddha's Tomten, I had to go back and take a look at Tiny Dancer's, to see if there were any way I could proceed without ripping. Nevermind that I had completely screwed up by trying to knit the stripe of blue along with the green, rather than waiting to add it as a buttonband (an effect that looks quite horrible up close and in person). I wanted to see if it was somehow nevertheless salveagable. First, I tried on the hood.

Not exactly small, but strangely not as enormous as Little Buddha's. I swear I have no idea what I did differently with Little Buddha's (which I began knitting after I realized how problematic Tiny Dancer's had become). But I remembered why Tiny Dancer's was such a mess. It's not the hood that's huge. It's the whole freakin' thing.

(Try to ignore the mess of my study).
This thing fits me perfectly. On Tiny Dancer it is ridiculous. It barely touches his body anywhere, and it hangs down past his knees. So the whole thing will be a complete re-do. Probably sometime next spring.

So there ya have it. The behind-the-scenes looks at what I did wrong.

And now a list of groovy ideas of things you can do with canvas:

• bucket or box
• reading pillows (Annika points out this one - and take a look! moonwaves point out that the sample actually shows the same Gingerbread man fabric I bought, in a different color)
• a play tent
• a hammock
• placemats
• a bag for knitting or sewing stuff
• belts
• crayon holders
• wallets
• beach towels or picnic rugs with little handles
• baby carriers
• changing pad
• lampshades
• aprons
• bulletin board covers
• floor cushions

WOW. So many fantastic ideas it just makes me want to scramble for some more canvas!! I really want to make several of the things on the list now, but I only have a small amount of fabric. Stay tuned....

Tomten, I am done with you. I think.

Let it be known that approximately one year after the Great Tomten Disaster of 2007, I finally managed to complete a Tomten. For those of you who do not keep tabs on the ups-and-downs of my knitterly life, the short version is this: I planned to knit two Tomtens, one for each son. One would be light green trimmed in blue, the other would be blue trimmed in light green. I severely underestimated the amount of yarn I needed (KnitPicks Sierra), and just as I realized that I also discovered that KnitPicks had discontinued - and sold out of - those two colors (approximately two weeks after I had just ordered those colors in what I hadn't realized was a closeout sale). But then a very generous soul sent me the yarn in the blue I needed. And I decided to harvest the green from my very first sweater. I got started, but didn't finish before warm weather hit and I lost my enthusiasm. I set it aside for a year and picked it back up last month.

Just in time to complete what shall hereafter be known as the Great Tomten Disaster of 2008. Okay, perhaps "disaster" is a bit of an exaggeration. Given my string of knitting messes lately it might more accurately be labeled "par for the course."

Actually, the Tomten itself is kind of cute.

pattern: Modular Tomten Jacket, Knitting Without Tears, Elizabeth Zimmermann
yarn: Knit Picks Sierra, in Tide and Lettuce - I have no idea how many skeins
needles: size 9 KP Options
cast on: March 2007
finished: March 2008

But the hood ... well, the hood is what could only be described as ginormous.



I'm not sure how it happened, or why I didn't realize it till I was done, or if anything could be done at this point to correct it. I modified the pattern for the bulky yarn I was using but perhaps I didn't modify the hood enough? Who knows - I did that part over a year ago. At any rate, by the time I was done with this one, I was too disgusted to pick up the other one and finish it for Tiny Dancer. I need to do major recalculating first. Perhaps next March?

I didn't bother adding a zipper, because I figured it wasn't going to get any wear. But then we did this photo shoot. And 43 shots later, I realized something - it actually looks kind of cute on him, ridiculous hood notwithstanding. So I may go back and add a closure after all (current thinking: an added i-cord buttonhole, like this one).

But for now, I leave you with a whole lotta pictures.

Canvas Calamity

in which earthchick demonstrates her amazing ability to pay no attention to important details

Allow me to interrupt my string of knit fiascos with a sewing one.

So I wanted to make a Scalloped Blanket (from Bend the Rules) to go with the Baby Surprise Jacket and booties I am making for our Administrative Assistant. The yarn I am using is Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock, in Green Apple (a color exclusive to Angelika's, which is where I always buy my Lorna's Laces. Y'alll, Angelika is AWESOME. I once purchased some yarn on a Saturday morning, and it arrived in my mailbox on Monday afternoon - $5 priority shipping. I swear one of these days, I am going to receive my yarn from her before I actually purchase it!). So anyway, I wanted to make a blanket that would coordinate with the lovely lime green, light-to-sunny yellows, creams, and taupe in the yarn. I thought I'd like to do a lime green print that had yellow and light brown accents on one side, and then maybe a taupe flannel on the back. I found the perfect fabric on reprodepot.

Lovely, isn't it? It arrived Monday.

It looks great with the BSJ.

Guess what? It's canvas.

That's right - I ordered canvas to make a baby blanket out of. How on earth did I miss that detail? I thought all the fabric I was ordering was 100% cotton. It is. 100% cotton canvas. And you know what really sucks? This sweet little Japanese print cost me $9 a half yard. Oof.

But it gets worse. Inspired by Nova's horizontally-striped easy lap quilt (also from Bend the Rules), I decided I'd like to make quilts for my boys, who turn 4 next month. Little Buddha actually helped me pick a couple of the fabrics - all from the "folk tales" section of the children's section of reprodepot. My boys love fairy tales, and I thought it would be fun to make a storytime-themed quilt (plus, it would make them less likely to always be fighting over using MY quilt!).

Little Buddha was quite taken with the Jack-in-the-Beanstalk fabric, as was I. I also found this super-cute Gingerbread Man fabric (another obsession of his), as well as a Goldilocks and the Three Bears fabric and a general "fairy tales" fabric (Little Red Riding Hood, Puss-in-Boots, etc.) which I was going to use for the back. I thought I'd get solids in lime green, red, and a third yet-to-be-determined color (possibly bright blue).





But guess what, again? Half of these fabrics are canvas as well. ARGH. And they're the cutest ones - the Jack-in-the-Beanstalk and the Gingerbread Man. I am SO disappointed.

So. I've already picked out alternate fabric (from Joann's) for the Scalloped Blanket. But I'm back to the drawing board for the other two prints for the lap quilt. And now I'm taking suggestions. What would you make with canvas fabric (1 yard each)? I don't want to do tote bags, I don't think. I've thought of messenger bags (with this print fabric as an accent). A friend mentioned aprons for the boys, which I thought was a fantastic idea. Would this fabric work as a bucket hat? What else do you make with canvas? I just thought I'd make myself a whole list of options, so that I won't feel so bad for having struck out with the quilt. Then when I get the chance (and the inspiration) to make something from canvas, I'll be all set.

Also, the little honey bear fabric I'm probably not going to use for anything. If anyone out there wants to trade for it, I'm wide open.

* now back to my previously scheduled knitting fiascos *

For March

While I was knitting along on my January Aran for Little Buddha, I showed him the picture on the cover of Knitter's Almanac and pointed out which one I was making for him. His response: "I want that one" - pointing at the Chainmail Sweater (March's project). Honestly, I have never been all that enthused about that sweater, and I had no intentions of making it. [My knitter-friend Jamie argues that it is sexy. I did explain that this was for my 3 year-old.] Little Buddha was confident in his choice, though, and I have to admit the boy has a pretty good eye. "I want that one, in green."

Here is a lesson I keep failing to learn: 3 year-olds may be certain, but they are also fickle. They like the idea of your making something for them, they may even put in an occasional request, but they always reserve the right never ever to wear it. Little Buddha proved this again recently, after I presented him with another recently finished object (yet to be blogged). So I am choosing not to feel bad about the fact that I will likely never present him with a finished version of the Chainmail Sweater. Because truth be told, I kind of hate it.

Okay, hate may be too strong a word. But I do not love it, not at all. I like the idea of it. I like the colors of it. I liked the anticipation of seeing how the first whole repeat would turn out (it's what's shown in the above pic). I liked the idea of contributing a Chainmail to the internet, because there are woefully few versions of them out there, and no child-size ones. But once I got the first repeat done, I just put it down and never looked back. It's possible that part of the issue is that the medium and darks I chose were too close in value:




But I really don't care all that much for the high contrast shown in the picture on the book cover. I wanted something subtler, and I though this would work - and sometimes when I look at it, I sort of think it does. I think I just don't care so much for the chainmail pattern itself (if you want to see a really yummy redesign of this pattern, check out KittyCreates' version - she's doing Eunny Jang's argyle vest but with this pattern - how cool is that? - and it is TOTALLY gorgeous).

In the end, though, the biggest problem for me was that my quirky knitting technique kept getting in the way of actually enjoying doing colorwork (this was my first real stranded project). One of these days I'll take a picture or some video of how I knit because it's hard to explain - it's continental, but I really do all the work with my left hand and needle, rather than with my right (I don't actually "pick," I wrap the yarn with the first two fingers of my left hand, or, when I'm purling, with my left thumb). Anyway, with two strands in that hand, I kept getting slowed down by all the tangling that happened and untangling I had to do - and nothing I tried kept things straight. It seemed a direct result of how much I use the fingers I am holding the yarn with. So I tried knitting with one color in each hand. That worked fine - except that it completely whacked out my tension, and I also didn't enjoy it.

So between my disillusionment with this project and my mortifying cable issues on the January project, I ended the season with no sweaters for Little Buddha. Sort of (because there is yet one more failed project to show you, and I don't know yet if it's salvageable). [Just so you know, my plans for the January Aran involve no ripping and no cutting, just what I hope will be a fairly straightforward isolation of each cable and dropping down to fix it - does that make sense? It makes sense in my head.]

When KnitPicks had a closeout on certain colors of Swish, I went ahead and stocked up, with the idea of making a Chainmail for each of the boys.


So yeah, a whole pile of blue for another sweater I have no intention of making. [I'll take any and all suggestions for how I might use the greens from Little Buddha's Chainmail and blues for Tiny Dancer's!]

For January

You are all so kind. Thank you for your very kind words. It means a lot, even though we don't know each other in real life. Actually, it makes me wish we did.

Now, on with the craft blogging.


Beautiful yarn, isn't it? It's Classic Elite Skye Tweed, in Macalester Orange, purchased from the closeout sale at WEBS last August. I bought enough in four different colors to make sweaters for our whole family. The first of those you've already seen. My original idea was Cobblestones for both boys. In retrospect, if I had done that I actually would've gotten the second one done in time for it still to be worn this season. But then I got the idea that I would knit along with EZ's Knitter's Almanac, and that a small child's version of the January Aran would be simple and quick enough. I decided to do garter trim cuffs and waist, to echo the same thing on Tiny Dancer's Cobblestone. It was a lovely idea, and probably would've been do-able, if I had just kept knitting it.


But I got this far, and realized I needed to interrupt January to make something for February, when our Co-Op preschool would be having their silent auction. So the February Baby Sweater it was. I do not regret that choice at all. What I regret is that when I came back to the Aran, I tried to work simultaneously on another small cable project - that had cables going the opposite direction. You can probably guess what happened as I switched back and forth between the two projects....


Can you see it? I didn't. Not until I had more than doubled the amount of sweater I had knitted. Now I can't look at the above picture without my eye immediately falling on the place where I made the fateful mistake.

Yeah, right there.

Oof.
Yes, I did this on every cable round. On all four cables. All the way up to where I was getting ready to steek.

So I put the sweater in time-out while I decided whether or not I was going to choose to be the boss of my knitting. I knew I could suck it up and fix this thing, but the question was did I want to. My answer turned out to be yes, I do want to - but by then I was absorbed in another (equally ill-fated) project and never found the time. And now - at long last - sweater weather seems to be gone.

It was a really super knit, and I am in love with the yarn. I think it is going to make a fantastic fall sweater for next fall, and I did leave enough room in it that it should still be able to fit by then. The only question that remains now is whether I will do my future self a favor and fix these cables soon, so that when I pick it up to knit again in earnest (probably late summer) I can actually come back to the project with joy and anticipation, rather than with dread. That sounds like a sensible thing to do, right? In other words, exactly the kind of decision I'm not known for....

Where March Went

Though my blogging has certainly slowed down lately, I had not intended to let almost a whole month go by between posts. But despite the fact that I write blog posts in my head on a regular basis, I haven't been able to find the time to actually write them with, you know, actual typed words. Perhaps you received them telepathically?

Life has felt unusually busy ever since the beginning of the year, and I don't know quite what to attribute it all to. The Co-Op Preschool that my boys are in this year has been a wonderful experience - and also more demanding of my time than I had ever imagined (with two children in the school, I have two volunteer jobs, one of which is Membership Coordinator, which at certain times of the year - like January/February/March - takes an unbelievable amount of time). My actual paid job is always busy, but in some ways has been busier these last few months. I am also apparently trying to find a new balance in my life - trying to actually tend to things I usually avoid (like finances, house maintenance, housecleaning, and the like). This was not intentional but certainly not unwelcome. It also takes time. I will blame it on my current yoga practice, which has seemed to be all about balance lately (not only in the physical sense) and has somehow helped create a shift on a deeper level of consciousness for me. Who knew that yoga would end up leading me to clean the kitchen more thoroughly? I didn't.

In the midst of everything else, there was a sudden and tragic death in my extended family right before Easter. My 24 year-old cousin Blake - honestly the sweetest, most innocent person I've ever known - was killed in an explosion on my aunt and uncle's farm right before Easter. I drove to North Carolina for the funeral with my boys last week, and it was really good to be with family, but also really sad. The fact of his death doesn't get any more believable, or any less awful. I have felt vunerable and a bit fragile lately, and not much like blogging even if I had had the time (which I haven't).

That doesn't seem much like happy crafty blog fodder, does it? But I just needed to let you know that I'm here. I'm still crafting, though that has certainly taken a hit as my life tries to lean more towards this strange thing called "balance" (I get loads more knitting done when I'm less balanced and more, say, obsessive). I have lots of show-and-tell to do, much of it old news, plenty of it now in hibernation. But I've got to start somewhere. I'll be trying to get back into regular posting in the next day or two, and I hope some of you are still out there.

The Thing I Said I'd Never Do

Yeah. It got me.

Spin in Color Kit - Ashford Spindle plus 4 oz. hand-dyed fiber -
from Pancake and Lulu
A Christmas present from my boys,
who like to hold my yarn while I knit and call it "helping you make yarn."
Maybe someday they actually can
(help me make yarn, that is).

I have a LOT to learn (as evidenced by that big fat single you see in progress there), and sadly not much time to learn it (this picture is actually from January, and I haven't done much since then).
But I love it enough that I'm hooked.
Completely.

Again with the Zeebees

The Zeebee is the perfect hat. If you can get the fit you want on the first try.

Or the second.

Or the third.

Or, how about the fourth?

[nope, not even then]

The first time I started a Zeebee for Little Buddha, I was 7/8 done when I ran out of yarn. This yarn, from Pancake and Lulu, was what inspired me to do a Zeebee in the first place - it just seemed to scream for garter, and I thought one skein would be just enough for it.

When I ran out of yarn, I ripped and decided I could make it work with less height and smaller circumference. Only I made so much less height that by 1/4 of the way in, I realized it would be way too short.

I ripped and tried again, deciding to keep the height but go with a smaller circumference. For an unknown reason, I cast on even more this time than the first, making for an extra-long hat. After 1/4 of the hat was done, I realized that I would definitely run out of yarn. By this point, I was fully into other projects, so I set it aside. In the meantime, I contacted Pancake and Lulu about doing a custom order of one more skein that would coordinate with the original [and also in the meantime I completed two other Zeebees, mostly without incident]. Aimee very kindly agreed and I received it a couple of weeks ago. It was as yummy as the first, and I immediately picked the project back up.

I ripped back to the cast on row and started again, alternating skeins. What I should've done was check my Ravelry notes. Because there I very clearly noted that my 3rd attempt was going to be too long. I didn't look at those notes0 until I was nearly done with a hat that is most definitely too long. After four tries on the same hat, can I really make a fifth (and final?) go at this Zeebee?

[shown here with needles still in, as I only partially seamed it to try it on him]

Yes, I will give it one more go. Because first of all, the Zeebee? A perfect hat (once you get it right). And second of all, Pancake and Lulu? A perfect yarn. I adore the colors and I love working with it. I most definitely feel the Pancake and Lulu Love (Ravelry link). This pattern and this yarn really serve each other well. Case in point:

In the meantime, Little Buddha will have to settle for his $6 acrylic hat from Target. At least he wears it with flair:

Voodoo: Good, Bad, and Kind of Cool

There has been some voodoo going on around here regarding my old handknits....

Good Voodoo

A few months ago, when I was at a conference in Indianapolis, I was standing in line at Starbuck's wearing my Voodoo wristwarmers (made in December 2006, in Malabrigo worsted, Polar Morn). A woman in line in front of me noticed them and complimented them. I accepted the compliment happily and we talked about how convenient and functional wristwarmers are for people who need the use of their fingers in cold situations (I realize that there are many, many people who think wristwarmers are ridiculous in the extreme). It was a happy, warm fuzzy moment, and I was particularly flattered that someone dressed as sharply as she was thought my humble handknit wristwarmers looked great. She left and I continued to wait for my latte.

A few moments later, she returned. She handed me her card and said, "I own my own clothing store here, and if you ever wanted to sell some of those, I could definitely find a market for them."

Most of us who make things by hand have, at one time or another, had a friend tell us we should sell what we make. Few people realize how unprofitable it is for the average knitter to make things to sell. First, unless you are also a designer, there is the copyright issue. Secondly, there is the issue of how much time goes into a handknit and how to value your time. Let's say that someone would pay $20 for wristwarmers (which may be optimistic). If so, then $6 of that would go toward materials (these can be made with half a skein of Malabrigo), then if you sold them directly (i.e., no middle person), you'd get $14 profit - spread out over how many hours? I'm guessing it took me 4 hours at least to make these. So, that's $3.50 an hour. Or, enough to buy 4 more lattes. Not really what I'd call "profitable." (If there's a middleperson, then cut that profit in half - $1.75 an hour, $7 total, 2 lattes). Finally, there is the issue of how much stuff I want to make for myself, my family, my friends - I can't even keep up with those things I want to make, so how would I ever crank out 20 wristwarmers to sell? (even if I came up with my own design and somehow managed to whip them out in, say half an hour, there's just not enough time)

Still. Y'all. It was unbelievably cool to have a clothing store owner offer to sell my little handknits in her store. The validation! The affirmation! The brief dream of making the big bucks until I did the math! Wow. I kept the woman's card and keep thinking I'll at least make her a pair of wristwarmers of her own, but so far I haven't found the time (see third reason, above).

Bad Voodoo

This happened three months ago, right around the same time as that trip to Indianapolis, and it has been almost too heartbreaking to write about. After I returned from my trip, I could no longer locate three of my handknit socks.

Waving Lace socks, made in July/August 2007
These were so special to me because I worked on them during our fateful trip to the beach.

Monkeys, made in March 2007
My first and only (so far) pair.

Simply Lovely Lace Socks, made in July/August 2006
My first lace, my first fingering weight yarn, my first size 0 dpns, my first picot cuff, and possibly my favorite pair of socks. These fit me better than any others I've made, and the pink never failed to cheer me up.

There are not words for how sad I am that I have lost three pairs of handknit socks. I cannot imagine where they ended up. I have searched and searched my luggage to no avail; I contacted the place I was staying in Indianapolis, and they have not turned up there. I am sure you people understand the grief of losing them.

Kind of Cool Voodoo

So I randomly checked my sitemeter yesterday and discovered that I had double the number of hits as usual. When I checked the details, I discovered that my little felted eggs had been featured on Whip Up! How cool is that? (I'm so far behind in keeping up with Whip Up in my Google Reader that I doubt I would ever have noticed them on the site myself). I made these little dudes back in March 2006, in a rather obsessive fashion. Based on CurlyPurly's free egg pattern, these are stuffed with wool scraps and then felted. At first I felted them to try to obscure the fact that my decreases looked wonky. But after I'd done it, I decided I preferred the felted look.

This was the picture shown on Whip Up.
But my really favorite picture is this one:

Taken with my old Canon Powershot,
shown in a gorgeous clay bowl that Chris gave me.