When people don't know that you knit

I recently moved to a new team at work. This wasn't a choice. It was a restructure in which our lovely team was carved up and spread out across the department. The girl I work with and am friends with came with me but other than that, everybody is new to us.

It was because of this move that today I found myself remembering that not everyone in the world is a knitter. Nor does everyone in the world know I am a knitter.

I know! Can you believe it?

For a little while I was working in a team full of women of a certain age, and they knew about knitting. Although none of them were any longer practicing knitters, they knew stuff and so when I came to work wearing a newly finished cardigan, or with one of my small winter shawls draped around my neck like a scarf, there was stuff to talk about. It was fun! And can you imagine how it's been with all the baby knits I've been churning out for Alice? For the grandmothers in my team, there was always something to coo over.

But now? Not so much. I haven't 'come out' yet. I was wishing I had, because next Monday we have a branch planning day and historically, the only way I survive those arduous ordeals is by getting through the better part of a sock while listening to discussion about strategic plans and core competencies and all manner of less than riveting subjects.

How, I wondered, was I going to just casually whip out the knitting and deal with the inevitable questions? (Note: I don't always get questions at such events. I'm pretty low key about it. I try to spend the day with the knitting held down low, hopefully sitting as far back in the room as possible!)

Today, I came out as a knitter to my new boss quite by accident. On Thursdays, a small, merry bunch of city based workers have been getting together at lunch times to knit in a cafe that is so accepting of us they now book the big wooden table for us and one week, when the table wasn't free, provided chocolates as a token apology.

The cafe is a hop, skip and a jump from my building and today, my new director walked in and couldn't help but see me sitting at the big table. He pointed, stared, laughed a little and made general noises of surprise.

'I had no idea!' he declared.

'This is my other life!' I replied. (One of other knitters present corrected me pretty quickly - this is actually my life. Work? That's something I do on the side!)

Later, back in the office, my director turned to me and said, 'So, was that knitting?' Yes.

'And who were those people?' (Sean said I should have told him they were random strangers who just showed up spontaneously!)

I explained who they were.

'And you just go there to knit?'

Yep.

'Really?'

Sure.

'And what? You just, I dunno, chat? While you knit?'

You bet.

'Wow. How did that start?' I told him.

Again, 'really?'

By this point, both amused and slightly irritated by how long it was taking him to get it, I wanted to cry out 'Yes! Yes! We knit. In public. Together. Often. And by choice!' but I forced myself to remember that not everyone knows this.

I was wearing my Forest Canopy shawl. He pointed at it and said, 'And is this one of yours?'

'This is one of mine.'

'You clever thing!' I half expected him to pat me on the head.

I must say this just amused me, lest the way I've written it is coming off as me being impatient with my director. The slightly patronising tone bugged me a little but you know, he's clearly not got any knitters in his life (otherwise he might not have been so taken aback by it all) so I can forgive him that, and pity him a little. Who doesn't need a knitter in their life? I mean, really.

Still, it got me thinking about how this thing I love so much is just such a huge part of who I am now, and people around me are just so used to it that having to explain it, even in some small way, pulls me up short and makes me realise I take so much of what it means to me for granted and we should never take the good stuff for granted, should we?

I'll leave you with the start of my Shetland Triangle shawl in the glorious Socks that Rock yarn I bought recently, in Winter Solstice. This is a fabulous counterpoint to my black lace stole, which, frankly, has been killing my eyes. I needed some lace that wasn't sending me blind!



Pretty huh?

Bells

Wollongong Weekend

I took no photos on the weekend. I was too busy having a fine time at Kylie's house in Wollongong. However, Sean went out exploring on his own and took a lot of photos so I present a couple of his for a change - taken with his iphone.


Looks like he had a very pleasant afternoon down on the rocks!



Meanwhile, Kylie and I were lusting after the sock yarn stash of a friend of hers who came for afternoon tea. Kylie's friend arrived with a suitcase of show and tell stash! Jitterbug, Socks that Rock, Malabrigo - you name it, she probably had it. A sock yarn stash to envy, that's for sure.

I got a little stash enhancement of my own, just two skeins of Blue Moon Fibre Arts Socks that Rock - oh please admire my restraint in both purchasing only two skeins and not having cast on anything yet since getting home this afternoon!

It's called Winter Solstice and I have nothing like it in my stash. Two skeins is enough for a modestly sized triangular shawl. I just need to decide which one now, so I'll think on it a little longer.



Also, while at Kylie's, under the watchful eye of her friend with the amazing stash, I did my first toe up heel on my pretty stripey socks. Check it out.



Now that I've done it, I can't believe I ever felt afraid of it. Fear of trying new things really, really shouldn't get in the way. It has no place in the life of a serious knitter, I say. Just do it!

Bells

Winter loses its hold

This week I began arriving home in daylight. Well something that passes for daylight. Once or twice I even ventured out without a coat on - but it's still cold enough for knitwear. Don't worry - I'm not giving that up any time soon. Canberra is still in the grip of winter.

The grip is just a little bit looser.

The bulbs are continuing to emerge, even in places where I thought there were none anymore.

This the Pickwick crocus that I love so much. Can't manage to be home when the sun is at its highest and the bud would be open, so I keep catching it only when it's shut up for the day. Lots of my crocus bulbs didn't seem to survive this summer so when I found this one hiding down among the greenery, I was pretty happy to see it.



It never fails to make me think of Charles Dickens which is silly since I've never even read The Pickwick Papers.

The purple theme continues with this fully open anemone. It amazes me how they are such tiny buds and yet they open up to be so very big.



And finally a Daffodil in the setting sun.



Sean had a lovely time wandering around the yard yesterday morning before work spying all the daffs that are up and about. They're special to him. His late, maternal grandfather, who I never met, was particularly fond of them and Sean has assured me that wherever we go, there will be daffodils every spring as a way of keeping his grandfather a little closer. I don't think that's a big ask, do you?

We're off this morning to visit Kylie for the weekend, to hang out and to collect some Socks that Rock yarn she got when I piggy backed on her order. What fun!

Bells

I'll trip, fall, pick myself up and walk unafraid

Earlier this week I had a conversation by email with RoseRed about some socks I was planning. I had a dilemma and as so often happens, chatting with RoseRed sorted me out.

You see, I wanted to make a pair of plain knee length socks from this gloriously stripey yarn I was given by Kylie.



Kylie gave me two balls of it and Pru generously gave me a matching one she no longer wanted - thereby providing me with enough to make long socks.

Nearly all the patterns I found for plain knee high (or even just long) socks were for toe up and I have, to date, studiously avoided toe up socks. I did try it once. I learned how to cast them on, then promptly lost interest before I got to any of the good stuff like turning a heel in reverse.

I asked RoseRed what she thought of trying them top down and just figuring out the calf increases myself. RoseRed's advice back to me was this:

"If you can steek you can do toe up socks!"

And I figured she was right. Not that steeking, or cutting your knitting for the uninitiated, is really anything like knitting a pair of plain socks starting at the toe, but the message was clear. You've gone into some pretty daring places with your knitting, Bells. Toe up socks really shouldn't be that daunting.

Fair call. So I started, using some clues by Wendy Johnson and the clever increases that RoseRed told me about by Cat Bordhi. (Edited to show link to the increases I'm using). I was off.



And it's fun! It's not scary. So far, thanks to the magic of Kaffe Fassett's colour genius in this yarn I'm enjoying watching the stripes emerge and I'm also enjoying seeing a product I know so well from the other end, as it were.

Of course, I haven't had to deal with the gusset or heel formation yet, but I'm guessing that won't be so scary once I've given it a go either. Honestly, there are times when I wonder what's going on in my head that I have systematically avoided any pattern that called for toe up construction. How silly, really.

This time, it was just a knitting fear. A minor, inconsequential little fear. Maybe I can think this through next time there's a big, real life fear to deal with.

Have you got any knitting or craft related fears to overcome? I bet you have. Maybe we should all have a go at addressing something we're afraid to try? Go on, get it on the table, let's declare our knitting (or other) fears!

Bells

Myrtle. Twelve Weeks From Here.

As I've been recovering from all this illness and working steadily on my Myrtle Leaf shawl, I've been pondering where one goes with a new, beautiful piece of lace.



She's not finished yet and she won't be for some weeks, but it's lovely to look into the future, imagine yourself draped in black silk and going somewhere special, and make a few plans.

In a cafe yesterday afternoon, bathed in winter sunlight, I worked on Myrtle while Sean and I drank coffee and tea. I said to him I thought Myrtle ought to get to go out when she's done. Somewhere special. I began to imagine a nice restaurant or even just a walk somewhere beautiful for some dramatic photos and then it hit me.

In November, exactly twelve weeks from today, we've got a big night out coming up. Tori Amos, a woman whose work I have loved often to the near exclusion of all others for 18 years, is touring again and on 16 November she'll be playing the Sydney Opera House.



The last time we saw her there was a beautiful evening in 2005. We drank champagne overlooking Sydney Harbour and went inside shortly after for a truly spectacular performance, during which I'm not ashamed to say I cried.

In November we'll see here there again and at least two other knitters I know are going to the same show. Ailsa and Jody. The venue, the friends, the music all mean that I must work hard to get Myrtle done by then - I imagine she'll be finished well in advance, but she'll have her debut that night.

I simply can't wait.

Bells

Cauchy Socks - What Took You So Long?

Being ill this week has been good for my desire to get things off the needles. I was struck down, mid-flu bout, with a bacterial infection and now have tonsillitis. This has been a real doozy of a week.

But there has been much knitting (including the black Myrtle leaf shawl, but that's just growing and not very newsworthy) which is excellent for productivity.

So I bring you Exhibit A. Sean's new socks which, I'm ashamed to admit, were begun way back in April at Knitting Camp. They were begun as a little Knit Along with RoseRed and Kylie, both of whom beat me some time ago. You can see RoseRed's version (she came second) here, and Kylie's version here. All three of us knitted these for the significant men in our lives.

So what took me so long?



Were they difficult? No. Boring? Yes. But the result is good so I'm willing to forgive them. I would say, that out of all the socks in Cookie A's book, Sock Innovation, these are the least innovative socks.

The pattern is boring because it's not difficult enough to keep your interest, not even a little bit, but not simple enough that you can just whizz through it. You have to keep at least one eye on the purl stitches to form the pattern. But it's not bad. Honestly. And it's easily modified to make it a little bigger - you just an extra knit stitch at the end of each pattern repeat, taking the pattern to 66 stitches, which is more like it.

More to the point though, I chose a really boring colour. It's not a bad colour in and of itself, but I kept being distracted by prettier colours in my stash and working on those instead. I don't mean to do Patonyle a disservice. It's really, really wonderful sock yarn. But oh their colours are so very limited.

That said, Sean chose this for himself and I am a most obliging wife (a wife of five years today, as it happens!) so when the moment came to put these on his feet, and we saw how very well they fit, we both knew the wait had been worth it.



Anyone care to guess what was on the tv when I took this shot? I bet Kylie can guess since I think she was watching the very same thing at the very same time. Yep, a lunch time screening of the 2006 adaptation of Jane Eyre. Sigh.

Wonder what socks I'll knit next? Time for something fun, to shake things up a bit I think.

Bells

Loving the black lace again

Does anyone remember my ebony Myrtle Leaf shawl? If you do, maybe you thought I ditched it?

You'd be forgiven for thinking that since by my reckoning, I've not worked on it since the day this photo was taken, way back in April, at Knitting Camp!



To recap, it's from Victorian Lace today. The yarn is JaggerSpun Zephyr wool-silk and the pattern is Jane Sowerby's Myrtle Leaf Shawl with Willow Border.

Really, I just put it down for a few months because I was too busy knitting cardigans. I long ago decided that there was no rush on this particular piece. I don't particularly need a black lace stole but I sure as hell love knitting this stuff. So I decided it would take as long as it takes. It's not particularly hard, although the black is a bit draining to work with sometimes.

Having said that it will take as long as it takes, I'd kind of like to bump it along a bit and have it done well before the anniversary of starting it, which is late January. I'd like to have a fresh lace project of substantial proportions to work on once cardigan weather is over and I'm again in need of light, airy knitting that doesn't make me overheat.

So I reckon I could, if I focus, get this done before the end of September. No promises, but I do work well with a deadline looming and the thought of choosing something new, something not black, might just spur me on.

I'm home sick this week with a pretty nasty flu virus. The Dr told me to stay home until I'm no longer contagious so between naps, I'm sitting in the full glare of daylight and getting a bit of this lace knocked over. I'm a little over half way now I think and I know that if I focus, it moves fairly quickly.

Let's see how I go!

Bells

Lacy Mock Cable Socks III

(This is a repeat posting - for some reason the photos all vanished and people couldn't see them. Fixed now!)


When trying to choose which knitting projects to take to my sister's house for a few days, I thought about how I'd be busy running around after my nephew, Will; how there'd be a lot of talking and not much chance for concentrating. So i took only socks and only easy socks that were well overdue to be finished.

The plan worked for one pair of socks which are modelled here by Adele. How good is it to have socks modelled by someone else! For once I didn't have to try and come up with interesting angles while perching on steps or performing contortions on the lawn during daylight!



Willem got into the shot, too, not to mention the cat in the background.



The socks are the Lacy Mock Cable pattern made from Colinette Jitterbug in Velvet Plum. Getting Adele to model them was risky business. We discovered a hole in the original pair I made for her (same pattern even!) but this yarn was a gift from RoseRed and I love the colour so I sure as hell won't be giving them away! Adele will have to wait for her own pair.

This is the third time I've made this pattern. It was one of the earliest patterns I used once I felt brave enough to let go of the sides and dive into patterned rather than plain socks. If you're a not so confident sock knitter, looking for a way to branch out into semi-lacy socks, this is a very good, easily memorised pattern.



I just adore the colour. Colinette do amazing sock yarn and after warnings from others, I was careful about the yardage. More than a few people failed to get a full pair out of Jitterbug but I weighed them carefully and each sock is 54g - thankfully the skeins are 110g!

My trip away was really lovely. Just sisters hanging out during the day, with Willem for added company and fun. We made cupcakes, among many other great activities over two days.



He decorated them with those pink and white lolly teeth. He was pretty pleased with his efforts, as he should have been! Aunty time is good for the soul.

Bells

Winter Garden

I'll say one things for bulbs, even when your garden is a largely neglected wasteland, the bulbs still do their thing. No water, no feeding, no real tending of any kind and yet come August, their beauty still shines.



I wandered outside on the weekend and found delicately unfurling petals, like the Anemone above.

And some bigger, already opened anemones.



I think the intolerably dry summer this year did terrible things to many of the bulbs from last year. In northern climates I'm sure they go on for years, but I found at the end of summer that some had been cooked in the flimsy, dead soil. It made me sad. I know I can lift then but we planted over 200 bulbs last year and I'm sure as hell not lifting them all!

This is the only crocus I could find in the front beds.



Just one little candle flame of a flower. The rest are all gone.



I try to value the green and the colour I'm finding in the garden at the moment. I've ignored it over winter, feeling too much like hibernating to really deal with it, but at least I can be glad that a few bulbs survived.



Soon it'll be time to start thinking about spring plantings.

This week I'm off to Sydney on my own for a couple of days to just hang out with Adele and Will. Serious aunty time coming my way. Can't wait!

Bells

Small Shawls and a Baby Kimono

I've had a bit of a weird week since I last posted. A bit patchy on the knitting front, a bit crazy on the work front, and a bit odd on the 'other things' front.

Not that I intend to discuss it much, because talking about weight and food is a bit dull, but I started Weight Watchers, in an attempt to shift the damage inflicted by two years of futile fertility treatment and generally not taking much care of myself as a result. I've figured out so far that I eat good healthy food, just too much of it. Who knew?

On the knitting front, I think it's probably quite normal to hit a bit of a knitting slump after finishing something like a cardigan, especially one that was part of a race and took only 20 days to knit. I'm not sure if I exhausted myself exactly, that'd be overstating the case, but I felt at a bit of a loss once the Garter Yoke Cardigan was done.

I did start a little shawl (thank you LynS for pointing out shawlette is a nasty word!). I started right away working on the Aestlight shawl, a simply knit small shawl made in the traditional Shetland way, according to designer Gudrun Johnston.

It was pointed out to be by mad keen shawl knitter Jan of Pass the Slipped stitch Over. It was lovely. Really gorgeous, until I hit the birds eye lace section. I don't like that stitch, not one bit. I stuffed it up and moved on. I think I'll go back, because it's so cute as a project. But not now. Jan, however, has made a beautiful one. Check it out.

Instead, I started the Milkweed shawl. No doubt, if you inhabit knitting blogland, you'll have seen it already. It's everywhere right now. A bit Ishbel-esque in its popularity and I can see why. It's a very pretty little knit. Laura Chau is clever and I'm plugging away at it for now, not holding my breath because me and shawls are kind of not seeing eye to eye at the moment. But here it is.



The yarn is by Ailsa, or Knitabulous, and it's called Merlot Friday. The observant among you might have picked what the colour also looks like. Hello, knitpicks cables anyone? I am certain Ailsa never intended it but it amuses me to think of it from time to time while I knit.

I did manage to finish off a sweet little cardigan for my niece Alice, who was an all day visitor at our house yesterday while her parents attended a family wedding. I started this kimono about a month ago and just needed to add sleeves, which I spent Friday night doing. Here she is modelling it yesterday morning.



I have to say I have mixed feelings about the pattern. It's the Seamless Baby Kimono. I made one for Alice a couple of months ago and the little chubster has outgrown it. So I made another.

The problem with the last one was that it was very floppy around the neck. I read that some people added a row of single crochets around the neck to reinforce it a bit. I did that and it does help, but the front is still kinda floppy and I'm not keen on how the wrap does up.

Maybe it's me? The underneath section of the wrap doesn't connect to anything. It kind of hangs, like it needs some button or something to tie it up on the inside. It's only held together properly in that photo because I put Sean's fingers in the right place to hold it. Anyone who's made this got thoughts? I reckon I'll make a regular cardigan for Alice next, or a dress. I do enjoy knitting this little piece. It works as a concept, just not as a successful wrap, for me at any rate. I just can't get it to a wearable state I'm happy with.

Anyway, I'm sure Alice will still get wear out of this, even with its faults. It's still cold here. The yarn is Bendigo Woollen Mills Rustic 8ply in Pink Opal and I think she looks very pretty in it.

Edited to add: First comment by Leonie shows I have utterly failed to read the pattern well. It asks you to add a button to hold it closed. Duh.

Everyone says it but it's true, baby girl knits are so much fun.

Bells

ps thanks for all the fabulous suggestions on naming the Knitting With Bells bear. I have stared at the list and stared at it and I can't decide. I will choose one - it's just so hard!