Knitters are the best people

Imagine this.

Monday morning and your husband decides, after much indecision, that he will drive to Sydney that night to see his favourite Swedish metal band on stage at the Enmore theatre. And that we'll drive home afterwards so we won't lose a day's work. That's a 3 hour drive each way and the concert wouldn't finish til nearer midnight.

After all my cajoling, all my insistence that he should indulge himself once in a while, he decided to do it and I knew then that I had to come through with the goods and actually support him! I think I quietly suspected he wouldn't decide to do it.

Part of the reason he decided to do it was, I think, was because I said I could come with him to share the driving and that I'd be able to find company in Newtown on a Monday night. How does one find company in a city that isn't one's home on a rainy Monday night?

Easy! It's called Twitter! Put the word out to the knitters you know live nearby and see if, at the last minute, they want to hang out. Within an hour or two, super organised and connected knitter Webgoddess had organised an impromptu Knitting Salon at her house for seven.

We left work early and I dropped my Swedish metal loving husband on King Street. Trusty iphone GPS application in hand, I found my way to my destination easily and what followed was an exceedingly pleasing evening of vegetable curry, knitting around the dining table, (a little) wine, much chatting and laughter and finally, when most had left, an episode of Pride and Prejudice on a screen much larger than I am used to. Who knew that Lizzie Bennet's cleavage commanded such attention? The things you miss on a modest TV screen.

Around midnight, Sean and I were on the road, driving home on roads glossy with much needed rain, and arrived home at 3:30am. I was thinking as I drove how wonderful it is to be connected to knitters, even virtually. Some women came last night who I knew only vaguely from Ravelry but they put aside a Monday evening and came to hang out and knit and eat curry and Peanut Butter cups and laugh and it was all arranged with a few quick tweets and emails. Suddenly Sean knew he could leave me in good hands while he did his thing.

That, my friends, is yet another benefit of being part of this fabulous community.

I was going to end by saying that next time we decide to drive to Sydney and back over night for a bunch of Swedish long haired blokes, remind me of how crappy and tired we felt the next day, but actually I think I won't say that because being impulsive once in a while is fun and in the process, you can make new friends.

Bells

Handmade News

Do you know the online magazine Handmade News? No? I didn't either until about two weeks ago when I was contacted by Sara Moore from the magazine about doing a profile of my blog.

I had a look and realised it was a crafting magazine I'd never heard of. It seemed quite new and asking around some friends, I realised that no one else had heard of it either. I thought that doing an interview would be both fun and interesting so last weekend I cobbled together some answers for the magazine and sent them out, hoping for the best. Having never done such a thing as answer interview questions, I think it's safe to say it felt a bit weird but was a nice opportunity to reflect a little on blogging and knitting and where the two intersect.

The interview is here and I recommend you check out the magazine because there's something in there for everyone. I'm really glad they got in touch because it's been really great to find a new magazine and to read all sorts of articles about skills i don't have, particularly the jewellery making. I don't think that's a skill I'm likely to acquire so reading about it and enjoying the talents of other people is a very nice way to pass the time. So check them out.

The interview is really about what it means to me to be a knitter and blogger, and how the two inform my creativity. I hope you enjoy it!

And because so much of my knitting at the moment is either not very advanced or is gift knitting I can't show, here's a photo of me and Alice from last weekend. I love her serious face. Her smiles are gorgeous but it's her serious face that makes me wonder what she's thinking! I love being her aunty. She's so lovely.



Have a good weekend everyone!

Bells

Blogtoberfest Day 14: QandA

Today's post is blatantly stolen borrowed from a blogger who is relatively new to me. Pea Soup. She makes lovely shawls and takes lovely photos and getting to know her through her knitting and writing has been an altogether ideal blog reading experience.

Blogtoberfest is hard work. Fun, but hard work and I think lots of us find the middle section is when the cracks begin to show. On the whole though, I'm loving the act of writing every day and was reminded of one of the benefits of this exercise recently in a conversation with Lyn of Shades of Grey. Writing daily is good, for writers. Even just a little bit. It's what author Anthony Trollope advocated and he published 49 novels in his lifetime.

He famously wrote

"A small daily task, if it be really daily, will beat the labors of a spasmodic Hercules."

How fittingly that could be applied to so many aspects of our lives! Exercise, household chores, reading....the list goes on.

So to the point of today's post. On her blog, Suse conducted a QandA session. She invited questions from readers so I will do the same. That will take care of today's post and tomorrow's. Ask away! Anything at all, knitting related or otherwise, within reason, obviously. I reserve the right to refuse to answer some questions!

I'll close with a photo of the Myrtle shawl. I'm still slogging through the border. Four weeks til I see Tori Amos at the Opera House and so four weeks, at most, til this lovely but now rather tedious shawl is done!



Bells

Blogtoberfest Day 13: Cardigan Weather & a Public Service Announcement

I thought that by now, we'd be nearing the end of Cardigan Weather. I think most of us did, but the environment being what it is these days, such things are no longer anywhere near as predictable. I stopped knitting cardigans a couple of months ago because I figured there weren't too many serious cardigan days left (at least not by the time I got another one completed) and so moved onto Other Things.

But check out this sky.



Does this look like cardigan weather is coming to an end? No. Not on your life. Our days are, for the most part, incredibly bleak at the moment. I could have kept knitting cardigans out of light wool. Should have. Oh well.

A couple of weeks ago I started a cotton cardigan. I figure at the rate we're going, I'll get considerable wear out of this if I can get it done in reasonable time.

It's called Golden Vintage and it's an 8ply/DK weight cotton pattern that doesn't appear to have been around very long.



It's an elegant, simple pattern with some mock cabling around the base, as you can see in the above photo. And the cotton is a definite stash busting item. It was a parting gift from Shazmina Bendi before she moved to London a couple of years ago.

It's Bendigo Woollen Mills 8ply cotton in a colour called Gum Leaf. How very Australian.

It's making for some very nice mindless knitting when I need a break from the Black Myrtle Leaf shawl which progresses still.

* * *

I have a public service announcement to make. I recieved a message today from an old friend who now lives all the way over in Perth. She belongs to a band of knitters who are going to walk and knit for an excellent cause. I'll let Helen tell the story.

Members of the Western Australian Ravelry group are taking part in the Cancer Council WA’s Relay for Life on the weekend of 24/25 October at Joondalup Arena. We will be knitting as we walk to make blankets to be auctioned off at the event.

Part of our fundraising is a yarn raffle that is being conducted through the blog Casa Esmerelda, with fabulous yarn, fibre and knitting related prizes.

Details about the raffle and how to donate are at Casa Esmerelda.

***

I reckon a band of knitters who plan to walk and knit for a cause are absolutely worth our time and money. I definitely want to see photos from that. If you're keen to help, pop over to the site and see what you can do. Hint: there's Wollmeise among the prizes!

Bells

Blogtoberfest Day 11: All The Good Things

We had an easy weekend. Walking, bike riding, blue skies and sunlight. Spring is here. You can feel the population waking up.

Saturday morning, on a bike path, Belconnen area. Not far from home.



Sunday afternoon, walking in the pines again, not far from home.



Sunday afternoon, cuddles with Alice. That's her mum, Fee.



And so another weekend comes to a close. I wish that Mondays didn't roll around quite so quickly.

Bells

Blogtoberfest Day 8: My nose doesn't work

I think at some point in my youth, maybe even my childhood, I started to figure out that something wasn't quite right with my nose.

Already, I had a complicated relationship with my nose. I thought it was too snub. Too upturned. Too pig like. It must have been true because sometimes at school, boys would make 'oink oink' sounds when I passed by. Stupid pug nose. I hated it. I thought everyone could see up it when I was a kid and it was a source of great shame. Ironically, a boy who liked me in Year 7 told other kids he thought I had a nice nose. He said other nice things but that's the bit i remember twenty odd years later. My nose. He liked my nose. Why?

How strange then that something so upturned, so open to the world, should actually not function the way a nose ought to. Smelling seemed a bit mysterious. I looked at other people smelling things and wondered if smelling stuff was something I was yet to learn to do. I don't remember having that thought, but I know I did. Recently, when I was reading about an absence of a sense of smell, I learned that many people with this condition spend their childhood wondering if they just haven't learned to smell yet.

In late high school I worked in a pharmacy, the kind that also sold gifts, like perfume. Many times men came in to buy hurried gifts for their wives or girlfriends and they would hand me a pretty bottle or two and say, 'Does this smell nice? Should I get this one or that one for her?' Not wanting to appear ignorant, I usually made a charade of sniffing and picked the one with the nicest bottle or the most interesting name or label. How many women out there had nasty perfume as gifts because I couldn't tell one from the other?

In 1994, I had a boyfriend who loved food and smells. I faked the whole smell thing for as long as I could but one day, we sat in his car in the rain, overlooking Lake Burley-Griffin with a big pile of fish and chips balanced between us. The conversation was an important one.

Him: God I love the smell of fish and chips on a rainy day.
Me: Yep.
Him: Don't you love it? Isn't it just the best smell?
Me: I don't really know.
Him: How can you not know?
Me: I just don't. I don't think I can tell what it smells like.
Him: Are you serious? What do you mean?

And so on. Shortly after that, he as good as marched me to the GP where I got a referral to an ear, nose and throat specialist. I went to that appointment alone and a nice specialist poked and prodded, sprayed and dug around and he concluded, from that, that there was something wrong but he couldn't tell what. I was probably born that way, he said. Or maybe I had a bump on the head as a baby or perhaps I got a bad cold as a baby and the olfactory nerves were messed up.

In other words, he had no idea. He said I'd never be a wine taster. Gee, thanks.

I've often thought of getting a follow up view on my nose but from all I've read, if you have what I have, Congenital Anosmia, there's not a lot to be done. People who lose their sense of smell can sometimes get it back, but people who were most likely born this way cannot.

Many, many times I've been asked how come I appear to love food and wine so much if I can't smell. I'm lucky. I can taste. I don't know why this is. Not everyone with Anosmia, congenital or otherwise, can taste. Some people are so unfortunate that they couldn't tell the difference between chocolate and curry, between sweet and sour, salty or spicy. I sometimes think I over compensate a bit with food and I've had to learn over the years that if something I've cooked tastes over seasoned to me, then it's probably way overdone for a regular, smelling person.

As for wine, it's true, I'll never be a wine taster professionally, but I sure as hell know what I like. I will never be able to talk about the bouquet, the hint of blueberry or peppercorn in a bottle of shiraz, but I know when something tastes funny, or tastes good. But that's about it. I am probably missing out on lots of good experience, but what I don't know, I don't miss, right?

But there are things I do honestly long to be able to smell. That new baby smell everyone talks about, or freshly cut grass, the scent of rain coming in, or bread in the oven. I want to know why my sister loves the smell of jasmine so much or what it's like to walk in the door at night and find Sean filling the house with the smell of sense-assaulting curry.

These are things I'll never know. Same with that woolly, earthy, sheepy smell that knitters and spinners rave about. That's lost on me too.

Then again, I can't smell rotten eggs, dog farts or bad food in the fridge. This can be a disadvantage, as you might imagine. I can't tell if milk is off until it goes lumpy. I found that out the hard way.

I figure that if I had to be minus one of the five senses, this is the one to lose. I can still work, I can still drive, music is my lifeblood and my eyes are just fine. My sense of smell is not vital to my survival as it might have been had I lived a couple of thousand years ago. My life is probably a little poorer for the gap this creates, but it's not seriously disadvantaged. I get by.

I've got Sean, and friends who feel confident about doing so, to describe to me when my curiosity is aroused about how something smells. Try some time, if you're curious, to describe what something smells like. What does cut grass smell like? I reckon it must be very hard to describe.

Bells

Blogtoberfest Day 7: Walking round the rainy city

When flying I like to have the window seat if I can. That view from the sky is something I never get over. Yesterday, flying to Melbourne I was surprised to see how at the end of winter, this wide brown land, to quote poet Dorothea Mackellar, was not so brown. Definitely green, with splashes of canola yellow.



By the time I was on the ground, heading for the CBD to meet Shelley, Melbourne looked like this.



Dismal huh? And it's not possible, really, to arrive in Melbourne on a rainy day and not start humming the Whitlam's song Melbourne (iconic Australian act of the late 90s, for the non- Aussies who won't get the reference):

Walking 'round the rainy city, what a pity there's things to do at home.

I found Shelley, we had coffee in one of those desperately Melbournesque side alleys with an equally Melbournesque tiny, excellent purveyor of coffee. Fortified, there was just long enough before my lunch time meeting to head to yarn stores, Morris and Sons and then Clegs.

Did I go crazy? Did I shop til I dropped? No. I did not. I bought one extra ball of sock yarn that I needed (yes, needed. I was close to running out) and a Knit Picks crochet hook. A souvenir if you like.

One meeting later, I was back in the Qantas club lounge sipping Sauvignon Blanc looking out over the wet, glistening tarmac.

The return view was not so good.



Probably just as well. I picked up Nick Hornby's new novel at the airport, Juliet, Naked and was riveted. If you're a music nerd like I am, you'll love his new book.

Home in time for dinner, I'd say that was a pretty good day, as far as down and back in eight hours goes (which, incidentally, is the time it would have taken to drive one way!)

Bells

ps thanks for being so welcoming to EssiMay yesterday. I think she was a bit nervous.

A darn good toy

What's that you've got Alice? Some sort of toy? (And yes this is a gratuitous way of working Alice into a knitting post!)



It looks like a mushroom and as we discovered a few seconds after this photo was taken, is an excellent teething implement!

Actually what it really is is a Darning Mushroom and RoseRed gave it to me last weekend along with the lovely socks I posted about a few days ago. I'd seen one before but long before I ever knew I have a need to use one. RoseRed did a good thing, because it just so happens that I have no fewer than three pairs of socks that are in dire need of repair.

Sure, we could all use The Yarn Harlot's method of sock darning, which is, apparently, to hold a holey pair of socks over a bin and say, 'darn it'. But I'm not so keen on that method when it comes to special socks. My first ever red koigu socks, made from yarn that was a gift from RoseRed, were the first casualties in my sock drawer and I just felt devastated at the thought of losing them.

Two more pairs of socks followed, remarkably quickly, and all on the ball of the foot, which suggests to me there is something about the way I walk that they should all wear out there. One was my much loved, but comparatively little worn yellow Pomatomus socks which I only made in January this year and actually never wear with shoes. I must be very hard on my socks.

RoseRed also got a darning mushroom and today she posted about how she used hers. Once Alice goes and stops playing with it (no teeth marks, don't worry RoseRed!) I'll give it a go. I found a good post on Knitty which has some excellent pictures. I'm keen to get my much loved sock back into their usual high rotation.

We've had Alice for the whole day today and because of the blustering, freezing wind we've stayed indoors and made our own entertainment. Like smiling. Who isn't entertained by a million dollar smile like this?

Bells

A Town Called Berry

It's nice to go away for a little weekend break. It's especially nice to go away with a few close girlfriends and just hang out. This was a weekend long in the planning, driven mainly by one member of the group, George, who has routinely been either in labour or caught up with kid stuff and unable to join in other fun things like knitting camp etc. So a weekend was planned and excecuted very, very well. There are some nice photos and a run down over on Dr K's blog.

Berry was the town we chose. It's a tiny little town nestled amongst some very green and pretty hills, which you'll have to just imagine since I got very lazy on the weekend and took virtually no photos. Trust me, it's every bit as scenic and adorable as you could imagine it to be. Sean and I spent a weekend there last year, around this time, so I knew what I was in for. Actually there are a few photos from last year's trip I can recycle. This one gives you an idea of the landscape around Berry.



It's your typical small Australian town that has turned to small, folksey business in order to survive. Bed and breakfasts, antique shops, excellent restaurants, bakeries and cafes.

And a wool shop. OK, a yarn shop. Somehow calling it a wool shop sits more comfortably with my sense of old time Australia. I grew up calling such places wool shops because in the 70s and 80s, that's pretty much what they sold. Wool. And haberdashery in general. I still feel most at home in those old shops with their packets of fine Australian fare, Patons, Cleckheaton, that sort of thing.

More on that in a moment.

There was a fabulous garden at the 1860 cottage George found for us to stay in where I found some fun things to photograph.

Like the scarecrow who I think had seen better days.



I dubbed him Worzel Gummage.

We found asparagus growing in the garden. A small, developing patch so we left most of it in tact, but I got to eat this spear later on. Fresh asparagus out of the garden - my first time!



Just one photo of me posing cheesily in the garden. It seemed like a good idea at the time!



And pretty, pretty bluebells. It was that kind of garden. Little points of discovery and interest around every lush corner.



Do you want to know what five obsessed knitters talk about all weekend? Go on, have a guess.

Ravelry. I think we talked about that more than anything else, or at least it felt like it. Who knew that a knitting site could sustain so much interest and conversation. Thank God there were a couple of iphones there on the weekend so that we could easily check Ravelry for the patterns we were talking about. I'm not sure how we'd have coped! (Joke)

So let's get down the really important stuff. The stash. Sew n Tell in Berry is a very classy shop. It's got the good stuff. And it's amazingly well priced in some instances. I think I was quite restrained in terms of volume. I aimed high this time and I did not disappoint myself. Note the purple Kidsilk Haze. I've never owned that before. I just want to stroke it all the time and listen to it purring!



1. Cascade 220, 2. Kidsilk Haze, 3. Rowan Cotton, 4. Noro Iroha

And to continue the purple theme, which was not intentional, it just happened, here's the Wollmeise I bought from RoseRed who is the kind of person who has Wollmeise to burn, I mean, destash.



I saved up for all this stuff and loved every single moment of choosing it all. I decided, when I looked at it all and my other stash at home that really, it's like a collection now. A collection I'm increasingly proud of and besotted with. And I know I'll enjoy knitting with it.

So all in all a very happy weekend. And just maybe, the idea was born in Berry of a chick-lit novel with a handsome sheep farmer and a heroine who loves to knit. Or something. It's fun to dream about it any rate. Who knows maybe I'll even write it!

Bells

Of Shawls and Babies and Jumpers

There's a really nice ending to the story about John and his jumper that needed rescuing from certain death.

We arranged to meet on Wednesday outside my building and when I showed him the repair job, he was very pleased. Delighted, in fact. Two unexpected things occured after that.

He offered me money. Not a specified amount. Rather, he asked how much he owed me but I didn't want to take any money. He'd already brought me a coffee. That was enough, really. For 15-30 mins work and about a metre of green wool I already had in my stash? I would have felt silly. If perhaps it had been an arduous task that had taken me hours, then I'd say we'd have been talking a dollar amount, but not for that.

Unexpected thing number two was that he asked what book I would recommend for someone wanting to learn to knit. I recalled at once that my own re-entry to knitting came through Stitch N Bitch but I thought I'd ask him who was wanting to learn before I recommended that.

"How about an old bloke like me? I want to learn!" he said. Still, the only book I could think of, on the spot was Stitch n Bitch. So I told him to overlook the name and check it out. He thanked me and we parted ways. Yes, I suppose I could offer to teach him but somehow it didn't seem right.

Later that night I sent him a text saying I thought that the website Knitting Help probably a better option. I hope he follows it up. What would you have recommended? I was really stumped.

* * *
Last night I tried out blocking wires for the first time. Here's a photo I snapped quickly before work of the shetland triangle drying on the mats we bought from Bunnings last weekend. Sean picked them up becuase he thought they'd be good exercise mats. I misunderstood and thought he was suggesting blocking mats. Turns out we were both right!



They're awkward and I'm not sure I got it right, particuarly as I had to use two across the top of the shawl. What will it be like when I have to block the Myrtle shawl which is now, unblocked, taller than I am? I may go back to using cotton. It's definitely quicker than using a gazillion pins, but I'm not convinced I got the level of tension I wanted. I'll see how it goes on the weekend but maybe I'll re block it.

Also, this was my favourite photo this week. Me and sweet little Alice. She and her mum come for lunch most weeks. We have sushi and a coffee and Alice flirts with people sitting nearby. She also gives the best cuddles you can imagine. I think six months must be a very cuddly age.



This week i figured out she has teeth. Sharp ones! I love that she gets to wear her handknits when she comes out on our still rather cold days.

Bells

ps I'm thinking I'll probably run A Long Lacy Summer again this year, starting in November. Stay tuned!

The Knitting MacGyver

Picture this.

I am sitting at work one afternoon in August. I am probably bored. My mobile phone rings and it's a number I don't know.

I am always suspicious of numbers I don't know.

A male voice I don't recognise asks for me by name. First and second name. Again, I'm suspicious but what follows is a rather odd but harmless request.

His name is John. He was given my number at a local yarn shop - Cassidy's or The Shearing Shed, I can't remember which - and how they had my number is still a mystery but I think they may have found me via the listing for the Canberra Stitch n Bitch group.

What I hear him describe is worrying and at first I panic. He has a jumper and it needs repairing. He doesn't know any knitters and hopes a local knitter can help. He describes a sister who could knit but who died and no one else who could help. Against my better judgement, I say yes, imagining the worst. I have visions of jagged edged holes, unravelled stitches, a nightmare. Perhaps helping him out will earn me good seats in Knitting Heaven.

Some weeks pass before our schedules are simultaneously free and when the time comes to meet him, Sean suggests I take a friend. Because, you know, men who call knitters for help with their unravelling jumpers are probably also deranged.

You never know.

A knitterly friend, Anthea, who works in my department and doesn't need much in the way of persuasion to get out of the office comes along with me. The arranged meeting place is a cafe near work and Anthea carries her knitting (she walks and knits!) so that he will recognise us.

We are met at the door by a waitress who says, 'Is one of you Helen?' I say yes. She points me in the direction of John who is at a table waiting. Very quickly it's easy to tell he is not deranged. At least not at first glance. He is a rather good looking silver-haired man in a suit who orders coffees for both of us and proceeds to explain his dilemma.

He has a large, heavy bottle green aran jumper that was bought for him in Ireland and as the problem is revealed, I know I will be fine. Anthea and I declare it an entirely salvageable piece and after a few more minutes of very nice chatting, John departs and leaves us to our coffee and knitting.

This afternoon, I set out to fix the jumper, turning myself into, as Kylie called me when I told her what I had to, The Knitting MacGyver. Truth be told, there was nothing very challenging about this fix-it job but I thought it was worth showing what I had to do.

Here is the jumper with the hole up near the neck.


You can see there's a hole in the purl section beside the cable. My fears of moth-eaten jagged holes were so much worse than this.

About 10cm or 4inches below the hole, I located a stitch just hanging out on its own, like this was an ok thing for a stitch to be doing. I grabbed it with a crochet hook.



Using the crochet hook, I picked up each horizontal bar of the ladder, working my way up towards the hole. Here, I've reached the hole.



For reasons beyond my understanding, there was no obvious place to hook the stitch once I reached the hole so I just worked right across the hole, picking up the first horizontal bar on the far side of the hole.

After that came the fairly dodgy sewing stage. Naturally enough I didn't have any yarn of the same shade, but the green of the jumper is flecked green and so some Bendigo yarn I had to hand matched a few of the flecks. Here is my carefully done but ultimately still fairly unprofessional job of securing it all down.

So that's the reverse side. Here's the front side - which on the jumper is the left shoulder blade.



See, with all the green flecking, I think the front is about as good as I could reasonably get it. Sean could only see it once I pointed it out (or so he said!).

So there you go. When strange men call you at work and ask if you can fix a much loved jumper, there's no need to be afraid. Or so it seems.

The proof of this pudding will be John's reaction when I give him his jumper some time this week. It really wasn't wearable as it was - that stray stitch was just going to keep slipping down the length of the body if somebody didn't intervene. I'm kind of pleased I got to help him out. I feel like I undertook a spot of community service.

Bells

Viral Knits

This week, in a fit of crazed startitis, I cast on a new shawl. Not just any old shawl, but a pattern I've meant to make for a long time.

This is the Swallowtail Shawl, just one of Evelyn Clark's many wonderful lace patterns and for the longest time, I've put it off because I had this crazy idea it was hard. Well pfft. It's not. Admittedly I haven't hit the nupps yet, and I'm not sure I'll include them, but so far, piece of cake. Even in Madil Kid Seta which will no doubt be a bitch to undo if I have to.



Note the absence of lifelines. I like to live dangerously.

Sure it's a viral knit (a popular knit as opposed to a virulent strain of head lice!). Lace lovers everywhere have made it but this doesn't detract from the pattern's worth at all, in my view.

So I was thinking about viral knits - those patterns that everyone seems to be knitting. If you show up at an event where two or more knitters are gathered, you're going to see multiple versions of those oh so popular knits. Some people find that disturbing. They don't want to make what everyone makes. I get why they might feel that way. We all have our ways of distinguishing ourselves.

I personally like to avoid, as a matter of personal taste, the music that 'everyone' is listening to or the latest reality tv that 'everyone' is watching but sometimes, something that's very popular seeps through all the garbage that's out there and I end up loving it - like Buffy. But mostly I don't get on those bandwagons. Knitting is different. If there's a pattern that 'everyone' is knitting, chances are I will at least consider it.

Personally, I've made loads of the most viral knits, like the ubiquitous Clapotis. Haven't heard of it? Which rock have you been living under? Here's mine, made well past the point where everyone was making them. Better late to the party than never huh?



I've also made Monkey socks, at least three times. I think maybe four. These are the ones I made for RoseRed for Christmas.



Why have I made this pattern so many times? Because it's a damn good pattern. That's why it's viral. It's simple but not boring. It's versatile. It works with many different kinds of sock yarn and the results are fabulous. For me, it was a great transition from plain socks to patterned. I know it's been the same for lots of knitters.

Also, I made the pi blanket, by Elizabeth Zimmermann. A gazillion knitters jumped on board with this one and I made it twice.



Oh and then there were the Fetchings. Four pairs at last count. I've just realised that several of my favourite viral knits have come from Knitty. I often think I haven't made much from Knitty but I think I ought to revisit that idea. It looks like I've made more than I think.



I love all of items things I've made, no matter how much they have been knit by others. Yes, they've been knit by thousands and thousands of knitters, but those knitters didn't knit these versions. I did! They're mine and that's all that matters!

I get kind of cranky when I hear people bemoan the popular patterns, as if it means that to knit them means you haven't had an original thought since 1993. Even if you knit the pattern without modifications, by choosing a colour you like, perhaps substituting a yarn you prefer, you have made it yours. It's unique.

Even RoseRed and I have both made, at the same time, February Lady Sweaters from red Cascade 220, but we made our own versions with the buttons we chose, the length of our sleeves or the body. I'm sure we'd probably avoid wearing them to the same event, but otherwise, we celebrated our shared good taste rather than whining about each other's lack of originality. Again, it's a good pattern. That's why it's popular.

Sometimes a pattern just captures the imagination of knitters everywhere. Ysolda Teague must be loving that her simple little Ishbel shawl is so amazingly popular as well she should. There's something exciting about stuff that works and let's face it, the internet has made our knitting such a shared activity now and I'm loving all the shared creativity and happiness.

There are many, many more viral knits in my future, I'm sure of it and every single one of them will be uniquely mine, just as yours will be uniquely yours. Let's celebrate the shared creativity!

Bells

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

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!

The Shampoo Free Life

I have a strange declaration to make.

Since February this year, I've not once used shampoo.

I have used conditioner but just a mere three or four times when I've dyed my hair at home and have used the conditioning treatment that comes in the box. Other than that, I've been living shampoo and conditioner free for over four months.

Am I stinky? Nope.

Greasy? Not a bit.

Have I turned into a dreadlocked hippy? Absolutely not!

My hair is shiny and clean and yes, I'm frightfully aware I'm starting to sound like an advert so I'll get to the point because I love my shampoo free life and want to talk about it! I was prompted to do so because at the new lunch time knitting group we've got going in Civic, I mentioned my hair care routine today and there was a goodly amount of interest. I said I'd do a post on it.

There's a whole movement out there supporting the idea that shampoo is bad. Some say it's bad for our waterways. Others say it's bad for our hair, stripping it of natural oils and necessiting the use of conditioner which only serves to try and replicate the natural oils and not in a very lasting or helpful way. Google the subject if you're interested and read about all the ways shampoo has come to be seen by many as a fairly nasty and unecessary product.

For me, the lure of the shampoo free life is manifold. I don't like the idea that most shampoo is no less harsh than dishwashing detergent. If it's stripping my hair, what's it doing to my skin, which after a shower always feels dry and tight? There's a fair amount of evidence in dermatology circles to say that shampoo is abrasive and a contributor to a range of skin disorders.

And shampoo is so expensive, packaged in pretty bottles making so many stupid claims I just get angry at myself for falling for it. I'm skeptical about many claims made by beauty products and have long been an advocate for finding ways to not be sucked in by the industry. I love using household products on my face and my body so this shampoo free concept was really just a method just waiting for someone like me to find it.

So thanks to a friend I was put onto a company in Tasmania called Beauty and the Bee. They write on their site quite eloquently about the philosophy behind their products, many of which are olive oil or coconut oil based.



I bought a bar of their soap and one of the real keys to the shampoo free life, Apple Cider Vingear. That's a big part of the shampoo free movement, rinsing your hair with apple cider vinegar (diluted). I don't fully understand the science of it but the rinsing part of the process restores the right ph balance to your hair and, well, I can tell you it works. Don't worry about the smell, the vinegar is weak and the smell evaporates, so Sean confirms, as your hair dries.

Afterwards, my hair always feels soft and lovely, just as if I'd put conditioner through it. I was amazed the first time I tried it and I've become addicted to it. On days when my hair doesn't need washing, I sometimes still put a rinse through before getting out of the shower because it gives my hair a between wash lift.

And that's another thing - frequency of hair washing decreases rapidly once you get used to this method. I used to wash my hair every second day, sometimes daily, now I'm washing my hair twice a week and only wetting and styling it every other day. I'm getting such great wear out of this! It's saving me bucketloads of time, being the fussy hair person I am.

I put my sister Adele onto it and after a few weeks of struggling with an adjustment period, she too became a convert. Her hair is thicker and coarser than mine so she used a different soap, but the result was the same. Now she's shampoo free too.

The company makes other products - I love their mud mask and my sister Fee says the nappy rash ointment was the best she's used.

So this isn't much help for non-Aussies who don't want to pay the postage overseas, but I just wanted to share because going shampoo free has been so great for me and there must be companies all over the world who do stuff like this.

Some people take the shampoo free thing a lot further than I do, not doing anything more than rinsing with vinegar and water. They say the transition time to reach the point where your hair is no longer needing any kind of cleansing is long and painful and I'm not quite ready to go that far. I'm very happy with the olive oil soap I'm using for now. The soap bars last so long that this is really an amazing economical method, too. I cut chunks off the block of soap and find the whole block lasts a long time. I'm still using the block I bought several months ago.

I'd be curious to hear if anyone else out there lives a shampoo free life and would encourage anyone interested in trying it to give it a go.

Bells

Another Year Older

Today is my birthday. Sean and I took the day off work, planned some time ago, and disappeared down the coast for the day.

We would never dream of going to Bateman's Bay (or Little Canberra) in summer, when you'd have to queue just to get a table at the fish and chip shop. But in winter, we like these touristy places a lot.

The sun poured down on us today. I'd had visions of a bleak, wintry seascape but really, who gets annoyed at the sun?

But first, the day began with Sean gifting with me a lovely set of Knitpicks Harmony needles. As I noted recently, the name has changed outside the US to Knit Pro. I hadn't realised the names of the needles also changed. They are no longer called Harmony needles. They are Symphonie Birch needles. Doesn't matter to me. I will still call them Knit Picks harmony because, really, who is going to pay attention to the name change?



Sean's a good husband. This is the third year in a row he's sourced a set of Knit Picks needles from Donni, my supplier. Wonder if they'll come up something new he can buy for me next year?

Before we left for the coast, I found out Adele had provided me with a year's subscription to Donna Hay magazine. Life is good.

We headed down the coast soon after and soaked up the difference that approximately 7 degrees can make in the air. It was 15C (59F) in Bateman's Bay today.

First stop was the village outside Bateman's Bay - Mogo. Antiques, second hand books, artsy stuff.



We found a couple of treasures in the bookshop and headed to Bateman's Bay for lunch. This was our view from the deck of the fish and chip shop.



And this was one of the main reasons I chose the coast for my birthday. Oysters.



Sean can't eat them. He's got an allergy. But I can and the Bateman's Bay oysters are quite wonderful. I lapped them up.

We passed the afternoon with a little more wandering, a little more sitting and taking in the ocean views. I wore my February Lady Sweater today, but it was possibly a little warm for it on the coast. I don't think worsted weight yarn is good for coastal weather. Thank goodness I live in Canberra where we have real winters!



Eventually, we had to head home and when we arrived, I found my birthday present to myself had arrived from the lovely Sarah Durrant. This woman's service is second to none. I ordered this on Friday. Colinette Tao in Ginger Cinnabar. Delicious.



Could you imagine a more blissful end to a birthday? Oh, other than your five your old nephew singing happy birthday down the phone line to you. When I described my day to him he declared, 'how good is that?' It's very good, Willem. Very, very good.

Bells

Knitta Please & the Chevron Lace Cardigan

Today being the penultimate day of the Knitta Please event at the National Gallery, as part of it's Soft Sculpture exhibition, Sean and I trundled off to check it out today.

Knitters from all over the place took part in this event, responding to the call for strips of knitted fabric (some crocheted fabric was also provided) so that the organisers could do this.



And this



I never quite got around to knitting a piece to contribute and today, I felt a bit sad about that. It would have been nice to be part of a scene like this but it was very enjoyable to look at the efforts of others - such colour and vibrancy!

Today I wore my Chevron Lace Cardigan for the first time and Sean obligingly took a few photos while I examined the tall columns at the entrance to the gallery that had been dramatically adorned in knitting.



I was surprised by how impressive it was to stand beneath tall columns of knitting.



Here's the cardigan, which I'm loving, from the back.



And from the front.



I'm so happy with this cardigan, although it's been a bit touch and go. After finishing it several weeks ago, it grew to thigh length after blocking, so I ripped out the band, took about 3-4 inches at least off the bottom and reworked the band three times. For some reason, a simple crochet band took several goes to get right.

My only complaint is that the neck is quite tight. If I make this again, and I think I will, I'd make the neck a little wider. The reason I haven't attached any buttons or clasps to it is that it chokes my throat when I hold it closed. I think it works quite well without any kind of fastening, but I'd have liked to do it. I'm still playing with the notion of doing it up lower down but am as yet unsure.

Details as follows:

Pattern: Chevron Lace Cardigan by Milobo

Yarn: Bendigo Luxury 8ply in Oceanic 400g. This was my first time using this new, pure wool product by Bendigo Woollen Mills. I think it has easily become my favourite of theirs, with just one project. Soft, smooth, not very splitty, a delight to use. I'll be getting more.

Time: June 9 - July 4.

Hook: 5.5mm. I'm happy with the amount of openness I achieved with this size. It meant my gauge was slightly off but it only took minimal fudging at the point of dividing for the sleeves in order to get it right. I really didn't want it to be too airy.

I really love this cardigan. I think it'll get loads of wear over the remainder of winter. Next time, I might try capped sleeves, which I've seen others do to great effect.

Bells