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.

The One Good Thing

This is what I woke up to yesterday. Yes, I know it's very pretty.



But winter has lost its charm for me at this point. Yes, snow is very, very pretty - for that first hour or two after it first falls. And yes, the occasional ice storm can be breathtaking with its austere beauty - if it doesn't also leave you without power. And yes, having four seasons is charming, especially compared to having only two seasons - hot and humid, and less hot and humid. But y'all, I am not cut out for this mess. My Scotch-Irish-English blood needs some sort of foggy green glen, or lush rolling countryside, or even windy, craggy coastland.

As far as I'm concerned, when winter has gone on this long, there is only one good thing about it left: accoutrements.

If you can't beat the grey, join it.

pattern: Natty (Ravelry link) by Wendy Bernard
yarn: Malabrigo Chunky, in Polar Morn, roughly 3/4 skein
needles: KP Options and Addi Turbos, size 9 for ribbing and size 11 for the rest
[I don't own size 11 dpns, so I magic-looped this when it got too small for the circular)
cast on: January 29
finished: January 31
modifications: This is written with reversible cables (you cable the purl panels as well as the knit ones). I tried that at first but I didn't really like the puckered look of the purl sections. I also don't really need a cap to be reversible. Since the cap as written was too short for my enormous noggin, I had to rip and re-do anyway. So when I started over, I knit it without the reversible cables. In extending the hat, I also ended up throwing in an extra cable at the end. That was unintentional, but I decided to keep it.
notes: I LOVE this hat. This is the first hat I have knit for myself. Until I moved to Michigan, hats were foreign to me (except for the wide-brimmed, Sunday dress variety which I did in fact wear one Easter when I was a teenager). For my first seven winters here, I wore one of two store-bought cloche-type hats. I like them quite a bit, but there is a problem - they do not cover the ears. I've gotten to the point where I am tired of cold ears, especially when I have playground duty at my sons' preschool. So I figured it was high time I knit myself a hat. You wouldn't believe how many patterns I studied and considered before finally settling on this one. There are so many beautiful hat patterns out there! So many I still want to try. This one is stretchy enough to accomodate all my big hair, and long enough to cover my ears. Plus, I love me some cables, especially some big fat ones. Also, Malabrigo Chunky? I love it even more than the original worsted variety. And that is saying a lot. I am still not used to the flat hair I get from wearing this hat more than a few minutes, but other than that, I am pretty thrilled with it.

pattern: Natty Neckwarmer, my own
yarn: Malabrigo Chunky, Polar Morn, leftovers, plus Malabrigo Worsted, Polar Morn, doubled, roughly half a skein
needles: KP Options, size 11
cast on: February 13
bound off: February 15
notes: I didn't have the time or inclination to make a whole scarf. I got a beautiful new charcoal grey boiled wool coat for Christmas (not the one in the pictures here) that had a neckline that wouldn't easily accomodate a scarf without looking bulky. So I thought a neckwarmer was in order. Since I loved the chunky cables of my Natty hat so much, I decided to echo those in the neckwarmer. After some experimentation, I got it right, and just knit in a tube till I ran out of yarn. I had to use the rest of my Malabrigo worsted in Polar Morn, doubled, to have enough, and the shade is definitely different, but not enough to bother me. In the end, I was ridiculously happy with the result.

Mmmm, now I can smell wool all I want.

pattern: Super Mittens (Ravelry link), Weekend Knitting
yarn: Malabrigo Chunky, in Polar Morn, about 3/4 skein
needles: size 9 dpns
cast on: February 10
bound off: February 11
modifications: none, except using a smaller needle size (because that's what I had and I didn't mind a tighter gauge) [unintentional modification: made second mitten slightly shorter than first]
notes: I have been wanting my own pair of mittens for awhile now. I haven't worn mittens since I was a child, thinking gloves more practical. I wore my gloves during the first snowfall this season, while I played outside with the boys. I thought my hands were going to fall off, they were so cold and wet after just a little bit of handling of snow. Turns out my gloves are acrylic! I realized that wool mittens would be much more practical for snow play. These fit the bill, and went beyond expectations. A super simple, super QUICK knit - finished first mitten the night I started it, finished the second one the next morning. And they are unbelievably warm. And soft!!

They deal with the snow way better than I do.

I am in love with these.

I once told someone I wouldn't use Malabrigo for mittens because of how soft and pilly it is. I didn't think it would stand up to the wear-and-tear such a garment takes. It's true that they are pilly, but it turns out that they are just starting to felt (full?) a bit, which makes them even more snow-proof. And the inside? the pilling is bliss. Soooo soft.

Yup, I love me some accoutrements.

But I'm still not happy about all the winter.