Trusting the pattern

Any idea what this is?



It's damn cute, that's what it is, but I know that only because I know how it will turn out. Not because I can actually see what it is right now. It's pretty, but it doesn't really look anything like the end product yet.

This pattern, called Fiona's Top, is a tunic style top or dress that I'm making for Alice. It's a translated Danish pattern and boy is it odd. I say that with all due respect to the designer but it's not written in a way that most of us would necessarily get on first glance. To my mind, a dress that starts from the yoke and works down can quite easily be done in one piece in the round but I decided to go with the flow and knit it as written and so far, it's knit flat and in sections.

The two halves you see there, in purple with the lace pattern, are actually the two parts of the back and until two rows ago, they were separated. I've just joined them and will continue to knit down now until the bottom of the piece. After that, I'll pick up the front stitches which are on waste yarn at the moment, knit the front and then sew seams.

Really this is fine. I'm quite enjoying it but it's been a curious experience. I know LynS made it for her granddaughter and she didn't mention any particular struggles so I've kept that in mind as I've crossed each small query along the way. Lyn made it. I can make it. That's what I've been saying and I'm glad I persisted because at first, I really wasn't sure.

And what is with Rowan discontinuing this cotton? It's their 4ply cotton and the discontinuation may have occured some time ago for all I know but it seems like utter lunacy! It's a delicate, highly workable and utterly pleasurable cotton to knit with and I'm flabbergasted. Why would you discontinue something so very good? Business decisions often make no sense at all.

(Edited later: Donna left a comment to say I had perhaps got it wrong. One phone call later I saw she was right. No wonder I was confused. What we have there is the side seams joined well before there are any side seams to join. That hole is the arm hole and I have actually done a front piece yet so it's too early for an armhole! Confused? I was. Not any more. Thanks Donna!)

* * *

Today is Sean's birthday and this morning he got to have a birthday cuddle with Alice at the markets while Fee had her coffee. Don't they both look a picture in red?



Shortly we're heading out, just the two of us. It's a gorgeous November day. Perfect for an outdoor birthday lunch. His thumb is doing well, thanks for all for the queries. The bandage is off now and he's able to show off his electric blue stitches! Pretty impressive but we'll spare you the photos!

Bells

Of Roses and Lace

Summer is here. Unofficially. The calendar still says November, but the mercury says summer has arrived. We are in salad and cool drink territory now.

And lace. Lots and lots of lace. I promised on my blog break I'd do some maintenance on the blog, which was to include adding a list of A Long Lacy Summer participants to the sidebar but oops, I had a real break from blogging. One that included not doing anything to the site. I'll get to it. I've been busy with Icarus. Remember how I was agonising over the right project for my Helen's Lace? Remember how I was totally over thinking the whole thing?

Behold Icarus. This is what happens when you stop over thinking and just knit.



I love this shawl so far. Yeah it's fairly mindless but hey, after my Myrtle Leaf shawl, I think I earned the right to do some lace where I just enjoyed something simple, right?

It's the lace knitting equivalent, I think, of just smelling the roses. Or, if you're me, with no functioning olfactory nerves, just enjoying the look of them.

This is a heritage rose my father in law gave us as a cutting and they are flowering. Stunning, don't you reckon?



And speaking of cutting, a certain someone who also lives here injured himself terribly last night - the top of his thumb is now held together with stitches. We love our sharp knives, but sometimes we are careless. Thankfully he is left handed and the injury is on his right thumb. He can still use his iphone. That's a relief!

And no I haven't worn my Myrtle Leaf shawl to the Opera House to see Tori Amos yet. That's next Monday and I just can't wait.

Bells

Persistence pays off

As I mentioned in my last post, I was really struggling with the border of my Myrtle Leaf shawl. If you don't know this pattern, or the book it comes from, here is an image from the book, Victorian Lace Today.


It's a long shawl. By the time I finished the forty leaf pattern repeats, it was, unstretched, taller than me (I'm short, but that's still a hell of a lot of black lace by anyone's standards!). But the body of the pattern was not the end of it. Oh no, not by a long shot.

What follows the main body of the knitting is what some have called the arduous task of knitting on the Willow border. I didn't read the instructions for it until I was ready to do it and with the benefit of hindsight, 6:30am on a Sunday morning when I was not in the most happy or confident of moods was probably an unwise time to try and come to terms with something that seemed a bit daunting.

But with fresh eyes and more than a few helpful comments, plus email discussion with a couple of helpful people, I made it. Last night, I sat at the dining room table, under good light, with the lap top beside me, the book open in front of me and I gave it a go. Here's what it looks like now.



The verticle line of large holes is where the border connects to the body. The border is only eight stitches wide, and the wrong side rows are just purl rows, so once you get going it flies along nicely. I'd like for this not to drag on for an eternity, so I'm going to plug away as consistently as time and alertness allow.

I'm not sure I know what was so hard now. It's true there are a few lines in the instructions that seem kind of odd and unhelpful. I wish Jane Sowerby didn't write that this was unorthodox border because it's not, in essence, that different to the border I learned to do through Elizabeth Zimmermann. I expected it, after that statement, to be radically different and it wasn't. Not really.

Now that I can do it, I wonder what I made all the fuss over, but I suppose that's what learning is all about. What was difficult soon becomes commonplace and easy. Or easier.

All I need to do now is knit the thing.

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

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

A Tale of Two Ishbel Shawls

Once upon a time, I wrote plaintively of wanting to knit Ysolda's Ishbel shawl. I felt driven to start what so many others had started before me. I pinned so much hope on her and so despite having several projects on the go, many commenters said go for it.

So I did. Ishbel looked like this.



And we sang her praises at the time. She was declared beautiful. The alpaca/silk blend seemed just right.

Things went downhill from there and I neglected to mention Ishbel again for some time. I don't like failures but I don't like to pretend forever that I never have them. We all have projects that just don't work, right? So I'm mentioning her now.

Ishbel failed. I finished the stocking stitch part and launched headlong into what I can only describe as an entirely un-intuitive (to me) lace section. I bombed. About three rows in and I was in dog's breakfast territory.

I believe that with a lot of lace, you get a feel for it right away. I've never persisted with a lace pattern that didn't feel, early on, if not easy then at the very least, enjoyable or relatively smooth. Lace is enough of a slog without labouring over every single stitch.

At the time I blamed the yarn. Not that I didn't love it. It was a long ago given gift from Julie. I'd held onto it for a long time deliberating over the choice of project. But I blamed the yarn rather than myself or the pattern because I thought perhaps the slight variegation was obscuring my view of the lace (let's not discuss the appalling lack of correct numbers at the end of every row).

So I quietly frogged Ishbel and put the alpaca/silk away for another day. Soon after, I started Ishbel again - a remarkable feat of perseverance on my part, don't you think?

You might remember. Ishbel II looks like this - made from forest green Wensleydale.



And look, really, there's absolutely nothing wrong with her. I flew through the stocking stitch part and even began fairly optimistically with the lace. It's ok. I'm managing. Or was I before Tour de France began and I lost focus on anything that isn't a race knit.

Will I continue? I don't know.

The lace doesn't speak to me. It doesn't sing. What's wrong with me? The vast majority of the knitting world adores it. Some people finish it in less than a week. And I keep shrugging my shoulders and wondering what I'm missing.

Suggestions welcome.

Bells

In the bleak mid winter

It's been a bleak week here in wintry Canberra. Drizzly days with icy nights.

I sometimes feel the need to qualify these sorts of sentences with statements such as 'but not as cold/bleak as it gets in Canada' (happy Canada day, by the way if you're from there). But it gets cold for here.

We are starting days in eerie dark, blanketed in other-worldy fog; we are going out at lunch time, clutching our coats to our chests, pushing forward into tunnels of frigid wind; we are coming home when it's dark again, hair flattening sleet driving us on to where it's warm.

The evenings are cosy, sleepy and, in some instances, productive.

We were greeted by a picture of cuteness earlier this week though, in the form of a puppy newly adopted into my brother's family.

I'd like to introduce Manfred.



Part Maltese terrier, part poodle, he was my brother's 30th birthday gift from his girlfriend. Manfred, as is no doubt predictable if you know puppies, went straight for any bit of stray wool when he was here on Tuesday night. I gave him a hastily found scrap of Cleckheaton Country and he went to town with it. This photo was taken in a moment of stillness. There weren't many of them as all the blurry photos I didn't publish would attest.

Every other night this week has seen me pushing forward on the WIPs in order to make room for the Tour de France knit starting on Saturday night.

I made reasonable progress on a new kimono for Baby Alice, who is fattening up nicely and threatening to outgrow the knits I've clothed her in to date. It's closer to finished than this photo demonstrates.

Bendigo Rustic in Pink Opal.

I made good headway on Ishbel #2. What happened to Ishbel #1 you may well ask? That's a story for another day. This one's made from Wensleydale the ever lovely Kylie brought back from the UK for me.



And on the bus I've been working on Lacy Mock Cable socks in Colinette Jitterbug. Pretty huh?



And finally, I swatched. Rowan Kid Classic. For the Garter Yoke Cardigan.



So really, I'm good to go. I'm ready to wrap up this dark week and head to Sydney to hang out with my sister at our annual day out at the Good Food and Wine Show. We've been counting down for weeks and now it's here. See you at the end of the weekend with a wrap up of a day I'm very much looking forward to, not least of all because we'll get to check out Gordon Ramsay who, it has to be said, has been amazingly quiet following all the scandal that's dogged his visit down under.

Bells

Lessons in Blocking Crochet

Remember the Chevron Lace Cardigan I posted about a week or so ago?

Back then it looked like this.



Mine, now that it's dry, is considerably longer. You would expect it to be longer now that it's finished, washed and blocked, wouldn't you? And it is. But it's too long. Or at least it was until about half an hour ago.

I'm not going to show you what it looks like now because it's sitting on my lap slightly unravelled. I finished it on the weekend (is the crochet equivalent of Off The Needles actually Off the Hook? If so, I like it!) and, very happy with the length, proceeded to soak and block it.

I watched it, as I laid it out on a towel, almost growing before my eyes, much like when Kylie blocked her Liesl last week. These lacy cardigans seem to take on a mind of their own once they hit the water. It's most disconcerting. You think you've got it all sorted; you get everything as right as it can possibly be and then the damn things go and expand on soaking.
It's not right.

Even Sean, who claims to have little to no views at all on what is right and wrong in the world of clothing declared it too, too long. We're talking below the butt too long which was not, as you can imagine, what was intended.

So right now, my lovely cardigan, is on my lap, ready for reworking. All I've done is unravel the band and 3 inches of the bottom. Oh the joy of top down garments! If this was worked from the bottom up, we'd be having a whole other conversation right now.

Was it the gauge? I don't think so. If anything my guage was slightly tighter than required. Was it the needle size? No, I went down a hook size. Was it the yarn (Bendigo Luxury)? I don't think so although I'd be interested to hear if anyone else has found it grows.

I think it was just that it's fairly open crochet. Lots of room for those holes to drag down.

But it's at times like this that the words of author Peter Carey flow through my mind. I'll paraphrase what he said when asked how he felt about rewriting drafts of his novels. Imagine, if you will, that he was a knitter, or croceter, and not an author.

"I figure we knitters do this stuff, we knit stuff and if we can knit stuff, we can knit plenty more. I quite enjoy throwing away good knitting."

Well it's not quite the same thing - I'm not throwing anything away, but I am undoing many, many stitches in order to get the cardigan right.

And that, in the end, is what really matters. Getting it right. A girl's got to be happy.

Finished garment photos to follow!

Bells

Half Done Cardigan

Let it be said, up front, that I have had truly the most difficult of days. Not all of it was bad but not all of it was particularly good. Some not so great news, some crap stuff at work including packing to move to a new building (not just me - the whole floor is moving) and a general feeling at the end of the day of being very, very washed out.

But I got to come home early and sit in the peace and quiet of a silent house, with a bottle of Sav Blanc chilling in readiness for later on.

And I took some photos. Self portraits in the bathroom mirror of my half done Chevron Lace Cardigan. For some reason, I'm all about crochet this week. It's really hitting the spot, as evidenced by the fact I've reached the waist in next to no time.



I think it's very cute. I love the simplicity of it. I love that, to me, it doesn't look in any way like how you might expect a crochet cardigan to look. One of the reasons I took up knitting in 2003 was because it seemed to me then that there were not so many un-daggy crochet patterns around, in terms of garments. I found a few back then (and I must do a post about my very favourite crochet cardigan that I have worn to death for five years or more) but there weren't that many.

The internet has changed all that and I think there are many more great crochet garment designers around now. I for one can't wait to finish this one. It's (I'm so tempted to say knitting up, out of habit) crocheting up beautifully and the Bendigo Luxury is gorgeous to work with. Give me a few days, I think I might be there.

One last thing, for locals, Genevieve Jacobs from local ABC radio is looking to interview tomorrow any willing 'old school knitters' - anyone who was knitting in the 1970s and has stories to tell about vintage patterns. She just posted on Ravelry (as a big fan, I was thrilled to see the post!) and she asked that you call her directly on 6275 4561 where you can leave a message and she'll get back to you. I was knitting in the 70s but I was a slip of a girl and making things like holey scarves for my dad, so I don't think I qualify, but if you do, give her a call!

Bells

Purple Tangle

As luck would have it, I awoke this morning sick. All that talk of getting on with plans came to a screeching halt with a definite bout of a sore throat and a cold. I'm not dying, but I don't feel great.

There's just one thing to say about this that's good. I will now rest. And knit. And go out little. Can't complain about that.

I was not, however, too sick to start the day with a bit of yarn buying. Before I'd even had a cup of tea, mind you. Ailsa over at Knitabulous has opened an eye-poppingly gorgeous etsy yarn shop. Her dyed sock yarns and lace weights are stunning and I've resisted for a little while, but the delirium of illness made me buy something in vivid purple today. Oops.

After a spot of reading in bed (Nancy Mitford's Love in a Cold Climate), I got reacquainted with my February Lady Sweater. If you've made this, you'll know that the yoke for this cardigan goes on forever. Much like the garter stitch edging on my brother's pi blanket (which is finished, I might add. Photos later in the week.)



Between the blanket edging and the cardigan yoke, I'm doing a lot of garter stitch at the moment. Almost an entire week of it.

The afternoon did not pan out so well. I've got a secret knit on the go, which I can't say anything about at all, but I can talk about the yarn. It's Fibreworks 4ply merino which I bought at the markets a couple of weeks ago. It's lovely but I think the people at Fibreworks need to take a bit more care with the way they skein up the wool. I was careful but I messed up the first one. Look.



The last time this happened, a kindly reader called Catherine stepped in and saved me. Today, in a rather forward step, I wrote and asked her if she was keen to help me out again. The crazy woman gave a resounding yes and promised to return it ASAP. It'll be in the mail tomorrow.

The second skein was also pretty messy at the points where it was joined but I was on high alert and managed to avoid another crisis.



After that, I got on promptly with starting the Top Secret project and knocked over a goodly amount of it. Maybe this being sick thing isn't so bad after all. Tomorrow, I head to the country for the day for an Austen-fest. I'm not too sick for that. After all, it's what I'd be doing if I was at home anyway!

Bells

Averting Disaster

At some point over the weekend, one of the nightmares every knitter experiences started to loom frighteningly on the horizon. I saw it coming and for a day or two I lived in a state of denial. I tried to knit faster - because we all know that helps.

It became apparent on Sunday that was going to run out of yarn with well over half the border of my brother's pi blanket left. To refresh your memory, I am knitting a fairly wide garter stitch border onto the blanket. It's taking FOREVER.



It turns out I'm knitting it wider than it needs to be. I'm doing eight stitches, which is what Elizabeth Zimmermann recommends but she's also talking about a laceweight shawl when she recommends that. There's a fair bit of difference between laceweight and the 12ply I'm using here.

Duh.

But then, RoseRed, genius that she is, came up with a brilliant idea, one that would save me from having to buy a whole 200g ball of Bendigo when in reality I'd need a lot less than that. I put the word out on Ravelry for someone to let me know if they had any scraps of this yarn left over. Within an hour I had an offer from a kindly knitter in Sydney and tonight, it arrived. Two days after I put the call out.

Here's what I had left tonight. Just a measly 4g.



I was disappointed to think that I might not be able to knit on it any more tonight because I'm truly buggered at the moment and not up for anything more complex than garter stitch.

Then, because Sean had suggested we get takeaway for dinner, I discovered there was a parcel at the front door. I'd missed it, getting home after dark and going in the back door. But there it was, as I handed over the cash for dinner, sitting there on the front step waiting for me.



A whole 118g of Rustic 12ply in Red Tweed. I might just get this finished in the next day or so.



And yes, for the observant among you, I have indeed missed the deadline for my brother's birthday. It was this weekend just gone. He knows there's something coming and I reckon next week, he'll get it.

So thank you to my donor. I am unspeakably grateful. And I reckon she ended up happy to with the little arrangement we came to as part of the deal. But that's another story.

Bells

Nibble nibble nibble

After a rather inelegant fall down some restaurant stairs at SnB a couple of nights ago (thanks to new black heels (not high) and a shiny wooden floor), I'm a little bruised and sorry today and so have not done an awful lot in the way of movement.

This is all very convenient, because, you see, I have a rather large task ahead of me. My brother's pi blanket, which has been growing rather rapidly in the last week, is near the end.



I am quite literally nibbling away at the 576 stitches of this blanket, adding a garter stitch edge by knitting together the eighth stitch of the edge with the last row of the blanket. Doesn't make sense? No it didn't to me before I did it for the first time either.

I'll tell you one thing, in Knitter's Almanac, Elizabeth Zimmermann says, 'You will think at first this is going to be an infinite job....' and well, yes, I do think it will be. The knitting itself is straight forward but it's the huge turning and lifting of this massive blanket every time I complete an 8 stitch row that makes this arduous.

Still, my brother's birthday is a week away so I'm well on track. Sometimes, I stop and look at the blanket unblocked and think it looks like some kind of weird lunar landscape.



But this isn't bad for two weeks' work. A day trip to Sydney last week really knocked over the last part of it.

And so despite the finger-numbing pressure I've put myself under to complete this before my brother turns 30, I've still managed to cast on a couple of other smaller things to relieve the monotony of a plain blanket.

Ishbel was in fact begun, despite trying to talk myself out of it. I chose some beautiful alpaca/silk which was a gift from Julie a couple of years ago. I think it's a perfect match. So far, given it's largely stocking stitch, it's been good for bus knitting.



And for fun, I've cast on another little baby project for my niece, Alice. It's the Seamless Baby Kimono from The Complete Fabrication.



I think I've broken the spell of dark colours I was under for a while there, don't you?

Bells

It's polite to share

After the Victorian bushfires, there were all manner of great ways in which people could donate to the cause for helping victims put their shattered lives back together.

One of those ways, of particular interest to the knitters and crocheters amongst us, was to donate to the Red Cross and leave a comment over at Serendipity to say you'd done so. Contributors went into the draw for an astounding array of prizes donated from all over the place. There was much buzz.

I didn't win anything. That's ok. Really. It would have been wonderful but that wasn't really the point.

RoseRed, on the other hand, scored big time. One whole kilogram of cashmere was hers for the choosing from Colourmart in the UK. That's 2.2lbs of cashmere, for the non-metric among you.

And she could choose cones of heaven in any colour or weight combination she liked. You can imagine the discussions that flew back and forth across cyberspace. Days of examination. Hours and hours of agonising. Dreams galore.

And the absolute best part of all this? RoseRed said she was going to share her bounty with me. Is that not the most wonderful generosity?

So the agonising was mine, too. I could choose a cone of anything I liked and so I did. Behold.



This is a 150g/5.2 ounce cone of laceweight cashmere to call my very own. It was delivered by Kylie on the weekend, who took her mission most seriously.

Want to know the yardage? Sure you do.

2103 metres, or 2300 yards. Bloody hell. What's a girl to do with that much laceweight cashmere?

Well for a start, I'm just going to love it. And love it. And love it. And some day, I'll knit it into something really, really big. Just not any time soon. This thing's gonna need some seroius training first. Some preparation. Some build up.

Oh and I might have to finish this black beauty first. And have a little rest. Then, maybe I'll be ready.



For now I'm happy to dream. Dreaming is good. So are friends who share. Thanks RoseRed.

Bells

Cookie A and BKFFs

Many, many sock knitters love Cookie A. Who amongst us hasn't knit at least a pair of Monkey socks? Or Pomatomus?  Ok, not everyone has, but there are almost 9000 pairs of monkey socks on Ravelry. She's popular. Very popular and not without good reason.

It was probably only a matter of time before she put out a book. I thought her website was pretty cool and so wondered if a book was really necessary. Exciting, certainly. But necessary? When she's already such a great presence on the net? Nonetheless, when RoseRed offered to get a copy for me from Amazon when she ordered hers, who was I to say no?


As it turns out, a Cookie A book actually is necessary. Buy the book for the instructional chapter alone. Not just a how to knit socks, but a how to design socks. If you've ever had the slightest notion of having a go at designing socks (I have, but I'm scared of numbers!) then this is a great book for you. A chance to dig around inside the mind of a very clever sock designer is absolutely worth it. 

And if it's not designing you're after, at the very least it's a chance to really have a good think about how socks are constructed and why. 

The socks are amazing. A little too amazing in some instances. With daunting looking charts and rather busy looking cables, I think some of them are socks I may not ever attempt. I won't say never, but honestly, they're a bit full on some of them. Others are just perfectly gorgeous and impressive and I plan to knit quite a few.

Also, there is the rather sweet reference in the book, several times, to her blogging and sock knitting friend, Kristi, as her BKFF (Best Knitting Friend Forever). It made me smile. So cheesy it's cute.

So it was quite fitting then that, at knitting camp, me and two of my very best BKFFs cast on socks from Sock Innovation together. Not just three socks, but three of the same socks, in different yarn. 



L-R: RoseRed's in Mountain Colours Barefoot; mine in Patonyle; Kylie's in Socks that Rock. The pattern is Cauchy (Ko-Shee) which is a rather nice, simple geometric pattern, and arguably the most straightforward and simple sock in the book.

You can't really see it yet but I guess you can see the beginning of the geometric stitch pattern.

These are for Sean. I think he'll like them. He certainly made the right noises, nodding approval etc. 

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So today marks the end of my month of daily blogging. Thanks for participating! If you won a prize, I'm sending them all out next week.

I have really, really enjoyed daily blogging. I'm not sure how I found the time some days. But I got there. I have to say I'm looking forward though to being able to go out tomorrow night and not think of a post to write in advance! I can wait until Saturday if I want! 

By then I'll be able to show you the Ishbel shawl I am going to cast on tonight. I am weak. So very weak. I can't resist. You all had very good arguments for why I should do it, and so I will.

Bells

Knitting Camp 2009

As you may well imagine, a weekend of knitting, talking, eating, drinking and more knitting is pretty fabulous but also pretty bloody exhausting. When Sean picked me up from Wollongong mid afternoon today, I believe I sank into the car and sat staring comatose out the window for a fair whack of the journey home.

Between late nights, early starts and an extensive amount of talking and knitting, often at the same time, it's enough to wear a girl out. Still, I have had dinner, changed into PJs and had a glass of wine so I am suitably refreshed and able to cobble together some sort of picture of what a wonderful weekend it was.

Here's a mosaic of some photos from the weekend. As usual, click on the hyperlinks below to see any of the photos properly in flickr, with descriptions etc.



1. pi blanket, 2. lynS, 3. Myrtle Shawl At Camp, 4. Ailsa and Donna - dinner, 5. Knitting in the Sun, 6. Knitting camp - outside, 7. Knitting camp - Saturday morning, 8. Rainforest Chapel at Mt Keira, 9. Playing Dressups - Saturday night Hawaiian Dinner, 10. Matchy Matchy, 11. Bells & Jejune, 12. Bells & Kylie

Arriving at camp late afternoon and Friday, Jejune and I set up our room and waited for others to arrive. And arrive they did. Hoards of knitters, refugees from the working week, arrived bursting with excitement. Those girls (and Lee*) sure can talk! We were raucous. I think there's no other word for it.

There were people to meet. This weekend, although there were vast numbers of knitters I already knew from blogs or Ravlery, there were still more to meet. It's wonderful, and sometimes a little weird, to meet complete strangers and be known as Bells, not as Helen. I'm sure we all have that experience. A person might introduce you as their real name but until you place them by the name they use online, you're all at sea.

And really, the rest of the weekend was much of the same. Raucous, incessant chatter. An endless parade of knits. We had two Tangled Yoke cardigans; three February Lady Sweaters in progress (and a baby version); one Eastlake jumper; two complete Autumn Rose jumpers (photo #10 above) and more socks than I can list. Sometimes I just sat back and watched people diving on each other's ankles, guessing at patterns and yarns and making all the usual noises of praise and admiration.

Honestly, there are few greater treats in life than to spend a weekend with your dearest friends, doing little more than the very thing that brought you together in the first place. Sometimes I am gobsmacked by the notion that years ago, when I thought, hmmm, maybe I'll take up knitting again, it opened up the world to me.

If that moment hadn't happened, I wouldn't have spent the weekend high up on Mt Keira, surrounded by rainforest and sharing a weekend with friends I adore and knitters I got to know a little better.

It is possible, though, that there is such a thing as too much knitting. I worked extensively on a gift pi blanket - 12ply yarn, 6mm needles and a lot of stitches. That much heavy weight knitting can make a girl's fingers throb, ever so slightly.

Bells

* this refers to the fact that this year, we were joined by a solitary man, Lee. Each time the organisers of the camp addressed the entire group, they would begin, 'Ladies! And Lee.' It made us laugh. Maybe you had to be there. I had to share at least one in joke.

Retraction

This ball of dark green Grignasco Tango used to be my Tangled Yoke cardigan. Or rather, the beginning of a Tangled Yoke cardigan.



Now she's just a wound up ball of wool, alpaca and viscose. I say 'just' but that's not quite true. She's quite a lovely ball of wool, alpaca and viscose and really I like her very much so it's nothing personal.

For now, she's simply retracting all earlier statements that she ever wanted to be a Tangled Yoke cardigan. In time, I'm sure everyone will forget.

And the reason for this retraction? A couple of friends kindly agreed with me last weekend that the yarn was too dark, too flecky to be something bearing a detailed but delicate cable. The cable would be lost. I heartily agreed and figured I'd found the reason why she'd sat in my workbag untouched for more than a week.

Quite simply, I just knew. Deep down. So now I'm moving on without so much as a backwards glance.

I have a new love.



February Lady Sweater in Cascade 220. Red, smooshy love, that's what I'm feeling. OK, so she's a viral knit. Half the knitting world has made one, in this yarn. Do I care? No. Not one bit. I think we're going to be very happy.

Bells

Contest winners and a single bootie

How's that for an exciting title?

First things first, never let it be said that my husband only half does the tough jobs. He found judging the contest really hard, partly, I suspect, because he feels like he knows some readers quite well from either being friends of mine, or because he hears stories and choosing is like playing favourites!

That said, he chose winners he didn't know and would you believe, he sent me a summary email outlining his choices, the honourable mentions, the ones that he liked a lot. But in the end, it's down to these three (yes, three, because choosing one was something he just couldn't do).

1. Kate from Knightly Knitter. Sean loved that her comment on suggested post topics was both funny and incredibly broad. She wrote:

hmm, interesting topics?
How Not To Get Back To Sleep At 4am
Procrastination: A Philosophy to Live By
Why It Is Good To Knit And Teach Simultaneously
Bookstores I Have Known
Utopian Cafe
15 Things To Do On The Plane When They Won't Let You Knit
The Book That Showed Me The Wonder Of (insert genre here)
The Weird Thing I Saw/Heard/Smelt of Public Transport Today
Just Keep Going Round: A Tourist's Guide To Navigation In Canberra (and any variation for any other city!)
I See Rainbows
Hang The Housework

(the first one pretty much is the reason for the rest of them today!!!)

2. Sonia from The Peaceful Knitter. Sonia wrote:

Have we seen your stash lately?
Interesting conversations with non-knitters/crocheters?
What's going on in your garden?
Themed photo mosaics from your archived photos.
Okay, I'm stumped now...have fun and keep writing!

Sean liked that Sonia's suggestions covered all the things he likes to see here.


3. Finally, Tinkingbell. Tink wrote:

Like trawling the archives, but how about being a tourist in Canberra? Lots of your readers would like the wider view - and you may notice things you haven't before - take us walking the streets and parks with you
Or take us to (the less sensitive bits) of your work with you
or take us to SnB with you
Or tour your favourite paintings via galleries and museums
or give us more of your childhood and growing up!
What a fun shout out!

Sean chose this one because it means he'll have a reason to drag me around to some galleries again. It's not that I don't like going, I just sometimes forget how much I enjoy it until I get there.

So thanks everyone for your fabulous comments. I've drawn up a list and well, that should keep me going for a while. Winners, send me your addresses and I'll have some stitch markers for you!

Finally, to finish with some knitting.

Isn't this so very cute? It's the first bootie I've made in a long, long time and it's for my niece. It's the leftovers from the jacket and hat I've so far managed to get out of two skeins of Koigu.



I just love it. But it really needs a mate. I'm off to make one now. Yes, they're that quick those Saartje's booties. I'll have the full set of Alice's outfit ready to give to her in the next week, after buttons are found and all finishing touches completed.

Bells

Sage

Great progress was made on the February Baby Sweater today.



Thanks to some sage advice from George, I managed to get the sleeve stitches onto stitch holders, thereby avoiding Elizabeth Zimmermann's instructions which would mean knitting the sleeves flat.

I imagine I will continue to ignore all other knitting until this is done, such is my love for it right now.

And speaking of sage, look at this.



My herb garden is bursting with sage at the moment and, fortuitously, the aforementioned autumn issue of Donna Hay features an entire section on recipes using sage. Tonight, we dined on sage. The real treat of this issue of Donna Hay's magazine has been learning about mixing herbs with salt. It seems obvious now, but, beginning with Thyme salt, we've been enthralled.

Tonight, we had chicken roasted with sage leaves under the skin and sage salt delicately adorning the dish before serving.



I'm a total convert to herb salts now - just bung the herb of your choice into a processor with a tablespoon or two of salt flakes and Bob's your uncle.

The sky's the limit, really.

Bells

ps do I really have to go back to work tomorrow? I've been so happy.

Not socks!

The pale blue koigu I'm employing to save my eyes from certain weariness has found a purpose.

It will not be socks.

It will be a February Baby Sweater, Elizabeth Zimmermann's lovely pattern from the February chapter of The Knitter's Almanac.



And who is it for? My still very new little niece Alice who really, really needs to be armed with made-by-Aunty-Bells knitwear by the time Canberra descends into the dark, foggy days of winter.

What baby doesn't need a whole jacket made of Koigu? I know I'd love one, so the next best thing is to make one for her.

I've just started the lace part and it's going quite well. Last time I tried gull stitch I made the mistake of doing so on slightly variegated malabrigo. No deal. This is much better.



And I have to admit that switching from all the black projects to something small, pretty and pale is quite lovely.

Bells