Knitting a path, a shrug and a sock

My path lead to the northeast this past couple of weeks. There were lots of clouds there, intriguing lighthouses, big boats, many birds and a couple of dim, foggy beaches. Yarn shops in tourist towns have very expensive yarn. $200 for a scarf, and I have to knit it myself? fuggitabutit!

What to do when you're at the beach and the weather is funky? Go to the outlet mall, of course!

Chalk up one pair of cute shoes to show off hand-knitted socks. Thank you, Clarks. Avoiding the funky weather took us south after that.

I will say that Virginia and North Carolina have it all over the west for fall color. I mean, what's a few measly million aspens compared to entire forests of turning trees in every possible shade and hue of the yellow to red portion of the spectrum?

Sure, I've seen some russet and even the rare purple in Colorado, but, basically, aspens turn yellow, stunningly so, but just plain gold. The NC forest is fantastic, even in the rain. Even though the leaves were mostly fallen, the warm temps encouraged a positive view of the view.



Nice to have it mixed with flowers. My project of choice for the trip was cables mixed with cross-ribs.

Blog browsing before I left rewarded me with a look at just how soft and phat a cable can be. I kept seeing it afterwards, superimposed over whatever I was knitting, a cabled sunspot of a memory. It was a sock pattern from a book I don't have and don't want to buy. I tried so hard to ignore it that I forgot, briefly, where I saw it. Just before the trip, I realized it was something I couldn't ignore and that the purply-pink yarn I had been toting around since mid-summer might serve to replicate it. Never mind that I had already selected a pattern for the yarn, a rare (for me) matching of pattern with the recommended yarn. I hadda stick a cable into it.

(Brown Sheep Wildfoote sock yarn and Nancy Bush's Diagonal Cross-rib socks is undeniably a winning combo. If I did it over without the cable, I'd take advantage of the thin yarn and knit it on small needles at a very tight gauge to make it better fit a woman's foot. Wildfoote smooths out so nicely when stressed.)

Not just any cable, either, it had to be a plush, wide, lush cable on the side or, as the photos show, on both sides. It turned out ok, was engrossing to knit, and made the sock fit better. (The pattern is sized for a man's foot.) Although it isn't very true to the original inspiration, it is satisfactory enough. (It's the 2nd image on the Green Apples blog post I linked. Dangerous blog; the photos are outstanding.)

Fresh on this successful exorcism of lust for another's knitted apparel, I'm attempting to copy the sweater from the Progressive commercial. I've got the Textured Shrug pattern, a bag full of silk and wool blend yarn and some ideas. Unfortunately, the yarn is not all the same color, so I'm also thinking of using stripes like these (sorry, Rav link)...and maybe brioche ribbing. This pattern has been popularized by Lion Brand, which offered it free in a promotional knit-a-long. Thanks to the KAL participants, there are hundreds of images on the internet to help me out. This one is particularly reassuring that this shrug is similar in shape to the one in the commercial. Her photos are great, depicting the shrug in the size I need in a yarn with a similar drape. It's really amazingly like the first shrug, considering that the construction is obviously different. I can just see her buying insurance, and maybe a "new pair of shoes". Oh, I did that already!

New, not necessarily improved

Sometimes things have to be started over before they are done. As in these socks...

They were started three times before the right combination of slipstitches produced a pattern which worked with to smooth the color blips without being too tight to slip over a heel. Even though they've been in production since Labor Day weekend, they are still done in time for the cool weather. They are a gift, scheduled to be delivered this week.

(Trekking Hand Art sock yarn in the faceted rib pattern from the Little Box of Socks. I added an extra stitch between the slip stitches to perfect the fit.)

I hope they are a welcome gift. I couldn't do other than give them away. Even though they are a nice pair of socks, these are just not my colors. You see, the yarn was a gift to me. I asked for the yarn, was happy to get it, but I didn't like the highly contrasting colors.

Sometimes even the nicest of gifts might not be welcomed. Take, for instance, this pretty Christmas cactus.

This was a gift to my mother so many years ago its giver has been fogotten. What is recalled is the reluctance with which this gift was received. At the time, my mother was enjoying a period of freedom from responsibilities and was often away from home. A plant to water and protect was not welcomed. Nontheless, this gift had to be accepted. It spent many years braving the rain and wind, neglected and thriving. Some years it bloomed, some it didn't. The photo above was taken in 2006, one of its better blooming years.

This plant has survived this intermittent care, first of my mother and then of mine, for over 30 years. When I checked on it this fall, I found it changed.

Not really for the better. Based on the nibble-marks on the remaining stems and the lack of any dropped leaves around the plant, I blame the deer. Their pruning was thorough, leaving only the woody stems and a few leaves dropped into the pot. The droppings are taking root, and the woody stems are sprouting a few tender shoots. Now that it has been trimmed for transport, I plan to bestow this plant as a gift along with the socks, since the giftee has recently acquired a deer-free yard. If she devotes another decade or two of intermittent care to this poor plant, it may thrive again. Or not. Either way, this unwelcome gift will be passed on into someone else's responsibilities.

I am hopeful of a better reception for the bibs and washcloth I knitted as a gift for a new baby.


But then, babies are pretty easy to please. It seems they get picky as they get older.

(Chinese Waves dishcloth, made to serve as a hanging washcloth with an i-cord edging and loop. Bib from Mason-Dixon Knitting with added lace edging and i-cord tie. Plymouth Oceanside Organic Cotton with scraps of other cottons for trim. There was more, but I didn't get pics of all the items before I mailed the gift.)

As for me, I get pickier with each year that passes. I clearly remember being thrilled with a wildly variegated yarn a couple of years ago, so thrilled that I drove back to the yarn shop to buy it even after I realized it was neither the right weight nor the right yardage for the intended project. Even though I remember the pleasure with which I held this hank then, I don't feel the same now. In fact, I vividly recall the bewildered looks on the faces of my companions as I exclaimed over the yarn. Now I see why they were surprised.

I've tried several different patterns, even mixed it with a calmer yarn, but nothing with this yarn has pleased me yet. This is it combined with Louisa Harding Grace in the Silk Kerchief pattern. At least this version doesn't have the pooling of an earlier try.

I was pleased to work out the cast on so that there is a stripe of the contrasting yarn among the brown. A small detail now, and one that seems useless as I consider frogging the latest version. Still, with a contrasting border, it might make a nice gift for someone who likes brighter colors than I do. I just worry that it might not be welcome...

but it will at least be gone from my stash!

Knitting Expectations

Knitting is more than just a hobby to me. Since I began knitting four years ago, I spend several hours each day knitting and reading about knitting. One of my friends refers to this activity as my "knitting career." That's no joke. Knitting took the place of part of my career when I moved from a full-time to a part-time occupation. As a time-filler and focus of concentration, it has performed well. Really, that's all I need it to do, fill the odd hours and prevent boredom.

It has occurred to me that I usually expect more from knitting, perhaps too much more. I don't think I'm alone in this. I'm sure many of the knitters with whom I am most familar, those I "see" online, have expectations of beautiful knitted objects. Many of them expect to impress others with their skill and knowledge. These expectations come with their own burdens, requiring a certain level of performance and creating disappointment when the outcome is less than expected. However, there's another, more hidden expectation.

Recently, one of my favorite bloggers, Saffron, author of the Make Do and Mend blog, wrote:

"Knitting isn't supposed to be the thing that makes me feel overwhelmed and gloomy. It is supposed to be the good bit."

How "right" that statement feels to me! I expect my knitting to be enjoyable. Although it has been good for me, filling hours with calming, enjoyable and engaging activity, it also has had its bad moments. Like most other activities, my knitting has its moments of drudgery, boredom, and unsatisfactory outcomes. I've never questioned this, assuming that even the most successful knitters must occasionally feel frustrated. I don't expect it to be all "gravy." I'm afraid, however, that I have been expecting it to be enjoyable, rewarding and exciting.

This expectation creates a problem. The more I expect, the less I enjoy the process, the more I worry about the result, and the more disappointed I am in the outcome. The fact that my expectations of my knitting are colored by the expectations and performance of other knitters further complicates the issue. Seeing what others have knit is both inspiring and discouraging. I envy their projects, their photos, their enthusiasm. At the same time, I'm thrilled by their successes and intrigued by their observations. Equally, I'm delighted to receive praise from other knitters and disappointed that I didn't get more. It seems there's always the "bad bit" along with the "good bit."

No doubt this is a complex issue, and not one that is unique to knitting. However, since knitting is an optional task for me, I'd like to reduce the bad to free up more time for good. My plan for this is simple--reduce my expectations. I took a step toward this last weekend:

Finishing one sweater, I immediately cast on and finished another, a simple little sweater that provided a simple little end to a big group of expectations.

These two sweaters* are my numbers 10 and 11 for the NaKniSweMoDo knit-a-long. Once they are dry, photo'd and posted, I have only one more left and over two months to knit it. I'll finish this 12-project knit-a-long with a dream sweater; ending NaKniSweMoDo with NaKniDreSwe. There's a few sweaters that I have dreamed of knitting but never did. I put off knitting the Equinox Yoke Pullover for three years because I did not have the skills or the right yarn to begin. I will begin it as my 12th sweater of the year.

I've learned enough about fair-isle knitting to start this sweater. It doesn't appear to be difficult. It will involve working with my favorite yarn, alpaca, in some of my favorite colors. While the fit might be problematic, plenty of others have dealt with the issues with this pattern and have left suggestions on Ravelry to assist anyone who tries it now. Even so, I don't feel at all compelled to finish it by the end of the year. Just starting my twelfth sweater this year is enough. I hope it will be a happy sweater, one that I will enjoy knitting. If not, I will simply abandon it and use the yarn for something else.

Perhaps by letting go of some of my expectations, I'll enjoy more of the "good bit". In the repetition of the task of knitting, I'll find the calm. In the pleasure of the prettiness of the fabric, I'll find enough reward.

Not that it hasn't been a good KAL, motivating me to knit up a lot of my stash and inspiring me with plenty of photos of beautiful knitted sweaters. There were several sweaters that I thoroughly enjoyed knitting. Now, I am weary of this year of regimented, one-sweater-after-another projects, each with a deadline. It will be lovely to let go and let my inspiration direct the project. How far will I go? For example, why stop at striped socks or even striped knee socks when I can knit striped over-the-knee socks. Why stop at a normal afghan when I can knit a huge one? Why not 18 colors in a fair isle project instead of 9? Why not knit 6 projects at once instead of concentrating on one so I can finish it in a month? In fact, why not just let go and let be and see if I finish even one?

Even if it is only one, it might be the best one ever. Or just the funnest.

*Finished up the Scoop Pullover for me and then knit a First Frost Capelet in a couple of days, thanks to size 11 needles, Paton's Rumor yarn and the small size of the person for whom it was knit.

Not quite Kitty

No doubt, the average knitter should be able to buy the recommended yarn for a pattern and knit a sweater according to pattern specifications.

I've never claimed to be average. In spite of my quirks, I have managed to produce an average sweater, knit almost to pattern specifications, that fits me fairly well. I even found the yarn on sale. I was so pleased by the outcome of my latest project that I literally spent every free moment yesterday seaming and weaving in ends. You see, it was a pretty day, following a couple of pretty days.

You never know how long a streak of pretty days will last this time of year, especially in the mountains. I figured I'd better get it together and get outside for photos. I was so eager to get out that I left numerous ends hanging inside the sweater. If a careful-eyed knitter spots one or two of them in these photos, she will probably just smile and understand. It might surprise said knitter to know that the reason I'm holding my hand over my midriff is that I've only sewed on half the buttons. As admitted, I'm quirky.


The photos came out, anyway. As for the sweater, let's just say that the pattern designer, Louisa Harding, and I differ in our ideas of the ideal sweater. Not that this is bad. It's pretty nice, really. It was also quite easy to knit. But then there's the fit. Following the instructions for my size (36") would have produced a sweater with 4" of ease. A little caution led me to select the 34" size, resulting in one with almost no ease in the hips and, inexplicably, 4" of ease in the bust. I'd say this pattern could benefit with a little shaping in the waist and bust.

Never mind, it's pretty enough. Shaping complicates things, especially in a cable and rib pattern. It's the cable pattern that requires a big confession. It's wrong. Totally off. Not that the cables are difficult. I crossed those cables every 8 rows, faithfully and accurately, throughout the back, fronts and sleeves. No errors are evident. It was only upon carefully checking the pattern photo as I prepared to pick up stitches for the button band that I realized--they are supposed to be crossed every 16 rows!

No only is this a huge difference, the large, deep cables were the one aspect of the pattern that convinced me that I wanted to knit this sweater. That's why I consider this sweater "Not Quite Kitty". Before I seamed it, I asked myself if I wanted rip back the top of the front, sides and sleeves to re-cross the cables. As evident, my answer was "Not quite."

Ah, what a joke on myself. I have to smile about it, really, rather than feeling entirely stupid. I puzzled over the directions over and over again, as I began each piece. While the written instructions refer to a 16-row cable pattern, the first charted crossing occurs on the 9th row. Seven rows later, the chart ends. There's no indication of where the next crossing occurs. Both the chart and the instructions are accurate, just not quite explicit enough for quirky knitters.

No doubt, I'm used to patterns written in conventional, detailed, American-style English, hence my preference for Interweave publications. British patterns sometimes confound me. Heck, it took two years for me to work up the courage to knit anything from Vogue Knitting publications, famous for abbreviated patterns. I like a lot of detail in patterns. Repetition is good, too. Having knit two patterns from my Louisa Harding books, I now know to be more careful when I start another. I'll read, re-read, and check the photos. I'll bet I'll still manage to add a few quirks, though.


Let's finish with a shot of those buttons, little glass ones from JHB, via JoAnn's. Such cuties. As you can see, I finally sewed on all of them. I never thought they'd hold, but they do. For even more excessive detail on this sweater, check my Ravelry project page.

Squirreling away yarn

It's such a pretty time of year here, when my view is full of a myriad of colors.

If a trip to South Park City, the old mining town/museum in Fairplay, Co., followed by a leisurely drive over the continental divide and up Ohio Creek Road to Keebler Pass and Crested Butte was not enough to inspire yarn shopping, (oh, those colors!) the chill in the air made me realize that it is time for hoarding. (To those seeking fall colors, I should add that they weren't at their peak last week, but probably will be this weekend.) Following the examples of the squirrels, who have filled my flower bed with seeds from the bird feeder and nuts from the trees, I found a few empty crevices in my stash bins.

Of course, coupling the mountain excursions with a weekend trip to Santa Fe helped. Giving me four yarn shops and a couple of hours produced a few nuggets of yarn for those stash crevices. I started out with the Needle's Eye, a largish shop with a mix of tapestry and knitting yarn. There I found the Mini Mochi at the top of the pile above, along with a bunch of magazines. They have old Piecework back issues! Next was Tutto, my personal fave with its airy space and variety of yarns, where I found Isager yarn for a shawl and a sale basket full of sample Opal socks. On the bottom right there's the Kami bison for a scarf and bright yellow sock yarn dyed by the daughter of the owner of Oodles, a fun little shop with a warm and busy approach. I finished with a visit to Looking Glass Yarn, but my purchasing impulse had been sated by then. A little digging turned up only some cotton/linen yarn with dishtowel potential. It's a shop composed of one little room of yarn after another. I should return someday when my buying energies are refreshed.

I am, for now, thrilled with the needles I found in a tumble of gadgets on a table at Oodles. They are size 0 bamboo, from India (Empress brand). Bamboo needles in that small a gauge might break, but these seem durable.

I also added to my fair-isle alpaca sweater stash, which now looks like this, with the addition of the green, taupe, and brown skeins on the left. There's plenty of white alpaca in the bin, too.

I'm planning a pullover, like Equinox, expecting it to be plenty warm, but welcome on these cold fall mornings when I go walking in 35-40 degree weather. Speaking of which, it's time to head out the door!

Next, I may cover my knitting problems--a sweater with an error in length I hope I can just cut off and that sock that was too small. The leg is reknit, and now it's too big!

Talk about knitting socks!

Considering that I've been knitting socks for about a year and a half, I'd say that I've found one aspect of the process totally useful and enjoyable.

Buying sock yarn! It's a great way to indulge in the fun of bright, multi-colored yarns without running the risk of knitting a garish sweater. A hank of sock yarn is the perfect little purchase to make as a souvenir of a trip or a courtesy to an lys owner who has spent time showing me her shop. As you can see, I've visited a lot of yarn shops this summer. Maybe I over-indulged, but the summer is over now and I can hole up and knit down this stash a bit.

Of course, this little pile shouldn't be glossed over with just that explanation. If you really want to know all the details, you can check my stash spreadsheet. The enlarged photo you get by clicking it should show enough of the label details to allow each hank to be matched with its stats. For simplicity, though, here's the short list, starting from the top and going clockwise:

Grays - Fibranatura Yummy
Reds - Misti Alpaca Handpaint Sock
Greens - Whorled Peas Handpainted Sock in Oregano
Grays with a light streak - Aussie Sock in Silver Anniversary
Russet and white - Rio De Plata Kettle Dyed
Greens and yellows - Pagewood Farms Yukon
Dark blue with pink - Farmhouse Yarns Fannie's Fingering Weight
Pale green - Lorna's Laces
Bright blue in the middle - J. Knits

The reason some of these colorways seem similar is that a couple of these were a gift from someone who knows my taste in colors. While she was buying me a couple of hanks, I was purchasing their twins (or at least their siblings), unaware of the yarn I would receive later.

There's a few more that I've bought, but they are already in wound balls and are in my "ready to knit" basket. I'll bet I've got enough to knit over 20 pairs of socks at this point. Maybe next year socks will become the theme of this blog.

For now, the house is not awash with sock love. The buying has been fun, but actual sock knitting has been focused on reducing some older stash, with little reward.

The striped socks above were an attempt to knit an athletic sock. While fun to knit, this pattern of my own invention did not produce a comfortable sock. Since manufactured sport socks usually end up too tight on my ankles, I began with a large hemmed cuff. It is very loose. Then I knit a garter stitch short row heel. This heel was extremely easy to knit, looks great and feels awful. It is too bumpy. The yarn itself is Summer Sox by Classic Elite, a blend of wool and cotton. While it is cool, it is not very elastic. However, they are good for wearing in my sneakers when I exercise and don't bind my ankles.

The little sock in the middle is just that--too little to fit. I used a pattern from the Little Box of Socks that has slipped stitches every other stitch. I knew from Ravelry that it would make a tight, thick fabric and added stitches to compensate. However, it wasn't enough and may get frogged back to the cuff. The yarn is Trekking Hand Art. I don't like the colors, but it was a gift that may get returned to the presenter as socks once I refine the pattern.

The sock on the left is intended to keep K's feet warm this winter, a sort of house slipper. It's very heavy, since I used a heavy worsted yarn and size 3 needles, but should last a while. The yarn is Cascade Pastaza. The llama fiber makes it very fuzzy. I'm almost ready to start the heel on the second sock. This pair should be ready in time for the cold weather which is fast approaching.

You see, the leaves are turning on Kenosha Pass. (Photo taken Tuesday, September 8, 2009.) It just makes me want to knit!

Sweater knitting time is nigh.

I found an omen this past Sunday.

The first leaf has turned here. At least, it's the first I've seen, a cottonwood leaf, I think. While I knew it foretold the golden colors of autumn, I didn't predict from its appearance that I would see a changed mountain just a little later. Once the clouds moved away, it was clear.

Snow. On August 30th. Not terribly uncommon at 14,000 feet, and very transitory.

Below is how it looked an hour later.

So knitters, heed the warning and knit up those socks, sweaters, scarves and hats. Winter is on its way. (At least it is coming to parts of the U.S.) Have a happy Labor Day.