Kinship

Thanks for all the comments in recent days folks. I love hearing back from those of you who are reading and I enjoy each comment.

There does seem to be a little confusion about the kind of knitting destruction my cat has caused. She does not merely play with finished knitted objects. Oh no. She usually takes the ball of yarn connected to the work in progress and bats it around the living room. Occasionally, she will pick up the yarn ball in her fierce little teeth and trot around with it, displaying her prowess as a huntress and dragging my hand-dyed, lace-weight or luxury fiber all over the house. Beast.

I think she just likes attention. She has a great little homing beacon that must tell her when I'm busy with something else, cuing her to find the most difficult place to be and defend it with plaintive mewing. When I was putting together the quilt top, she slept on top of the parts I was piecing together, or on the chair at my desk. She follows me around the kitchen when I cook, sitting up on her haunches to bat at my legs and whine. If I'm trying to knit, she wants to be in my lap. If I'm reading in bed, she curls up on top of my book and purrs insolently.

A two year old human couldn't possibly be as difficult as this cat.

I would also like to say, on a completely separate note, that I love the Midwest the way I love my brother. It is the love born of kinship. My brother and I come from the same people and the same background and whatever has gone into his making has gone into mine as well. We have known each other his whole life and are inextricably connected. I might poke fun and point out the endearing quirks, but I know that those things make him who he is and they are therefore at least a little part of me too. I may grow exasperated at little irritations. But Lord help the mister (or missus) who seeks to find fault with him, because he's a part of who I am and I'm a part of who he is too.

Thus do I feel about the Midwest, as well. I lived there during all my formative years. The people who live there are my great big extended family. And when people give me attitude about "Typical Midwesterners" I usually get punchy. Not everyone everywhere is exactly the same and I resent the implication that Midwesterners are backwards or overweight or close-minded or any of the things I hear so often from people who think that being from a Coastal Metropolis makes them inherently more virtuous than other people. I especially dislike how often "Midwestern" is spat with disdain in political discussions. And I do not apologize for taking comments like, "I was really surprised by the lack of diversity, acceptance, etc. [in Ohio]. I hear people say that the midwesterners are friendly and open, but this was far from my experience," just a wee bit personally.

High school psych class (in a Midwestern school) taught me that it is human nature to form mental distinctions- to separate Them from Us. No doubt some observations about Them are bound to be unflattering compared to Us, but Thumper taught me that if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. Easier said than done. Still, I choose to post things on the wide wide internet that I feel are positive, or constructive, or at least funny and not openly hostile.

That being said I will depart from my pacifict ways to issue this warning: if you choose to mess with the Midwest, the Midwest may mess back.

Views

It's snowing again.

Briefly we had rain that melted away the snow on the driveway. Lots of farms actually had spots of ground without snow. Muddy, I'm sure, but all the livestock looked happy to be out trying remember how to graze.

I bought basil and cherry tomato seeds that I plan to start in pots this week. Hopefully, they can stand up to the sulfur water we have in the faucets here. Surely I will not be buying bottled water just to have fresh home grown basil.

Winter does give some amazing views. Brett and Honus went for a hike and found views that look like this:


To fend off the winter blues, I have been making fruity crepes:

This plate is frozen strawberries and canned mandarin oranges. I drained the oranges and put the syrup in a saucepan on medium high heat. While I was making the crepes (1/2 TBS melted butter, 1 egg, 1/3 cup milk, 1/4 cup water, 1 TBS sugar, 1/3 cup flour, and a tiny pinch of salt. Pour into a medium heat crepe pan or small non-stick skillet and let cover the entire pan. When the edges start to brown, slide out of pan onto your plate and fold into quarters. I can get four thin crepes or three thicker ones out of this recipe.) I put the frozen berries into the hot mandarin syrup with a splash of vanilla extract and a little lime juice and let them simmer. The berry texture wasn't great: kinda mushy and the whole dish was overwhelmingly orange flavored. Next time, I'd cook the berries less and try to tone down the orange flavor. Probably only use half the mandarin can and make the syrup with half the juice. I'd also like to pop a little acid flavor in there- more lime juice?

But doesn't it look yummy? And less than a $2 for the plate!

Meme

A very fun meme, but probably not terribly interesting to non knitters. Still I think it's kind of fun to take stock of what I've done and what I plan to do. I yoinked this from knittinhoney.

Directions are to bold those things you've done, italicize those you plan on tackling, and leave the rest.

Afghan
I-Cord
Garter Stitch

Knitting with metal wire

Shawl
Stockinette stitch
Socks top down
Socks toe up
Knitting with camel yarn
Mittens: Cuff-up
Mittens tip down
Hats top down
Hats Cuff-up
Knitting with silk
Moebius band knitting
Participating in a KAL
Sweater
Drop stitch patterns
Knitting with recycled/second-hand yarn

Slip stitch patterns
Knitting with banana fiber yarn
Domino knitting

Twisted stitch patterns
Knitting with bamboo yarn
Two end knitting
Charity knitting
Knitting with soy yarn
Cardigan
Toy/doll clothing
Knitting with circular needles
Baby items
Knitting with your own hand-spun yarn
Slippers
Graffiti knitting (And probably never will, but I think it's super cool)
Continental knitting
Combination knitting
Designing knitted garments
Cable stitch patterns
Lace patterns
Publishing a knitting book
Participate in an exchange
Scarf
Teaching a child to knit
American/English knitting
Knitting to make money
Buttonholes
Knitting with alpaca
Fair Isle knitting
Norwegian knitting
Dyeing with plant colors
Dyeing spinning fibers
Knitted items for a wedding
Household items
Knitting socks (or other small tubular items) on one or two circulars
Knitting with someone else’s hand-spun yarn
Knitting with double point needles
Holiday-related knitting
Teaching a male to knit
Bobbles
Tassels
Knitting for a living
Knitting with cotton
Knitting smocking
Dyeing yarn
Steeks
Knitting art
Knitting two socks on two circulars simultaneously
Fulling/felting
Knitting with wool
Textured knitting
Kitchener stitch
Knitted flowers
Purses/bags
Knitting with beads
Swatching
Long Tail CO
Entrelac
Knitting and purling backwards
Machine knitting
Knitting with self patterning/self striping/variegated yarn
Stuffed toys
Knitting with cashmere
Darning
Jewelry
Knitting with synthetic yarn
Writing a pattern
Gloves
Intarsia
Knitting with linen
Knitting for preemies
Tubular cast on
Free-form knitting
Short rows
Cuffs/fingerless mits/arm-warmers
Pillows
Knitting a pattern from an on-line knitting magazine
Rug
Knitting on a loom
Thrummed knitting
Knitting a gift
Knitting for pets (horrors!)
Shrug/bolero/poncho
Knitting with dog/cat hair
Hair accessories
Knitting in public

Apple Mittens

Usually, I do my best to keep my crafting budget to a minimum. I alter the yarn recommendations on patterns, or I buy just one skein of a gorgeous yarn. I don't knit many sweaters because they always use so much yardage.

Still, I know that on any given project I might spend a minimum of hours and a maximum of months of my valuable time. Knitting is a very sensory experience- every time you sit down to work on it, you're going to run that yarn around your fingers and you're going to look carefully at each stitch. You are involved with that project. Knowing all that, what is the point of using materials that you do not love, or that do not inspire you?


The yarn for this project is courtesy of Grandma J by way of a Knitted Together gift card. Whenever I was feeling a little stressed or unhappy working at the farms, I had this great fund of happiness I could dip into on that gift card. And boy did I.

I could walk into the store, wander around, find a ball of something stunning and take it home with me, no worries about budget or if I'd earned it. This Dream in Color yarn was one such purchase of complete happiness. The skein is from the Classy line, a merino worsted with plenty of twist to keep the soft wool from pilling, and the juicy color is called "China Apple."





When I started in on these mittens, I worked my swatch with the bone needles and loved every second of the work. I kept stretching it out, looking at the stitches, admiring the evenness and gentle color gradation, demanding Brett look at it and admire it too. And I cast on that night.


Yarn: Dream in Color Classy- China Apple.

Needles: US 6. I don't have a set of these in double points, so I used two interchangable circulars.

Pattern: My own. Double cuff, Norwegian flat thumb. I wanted to keep it simple and let the yarn speak for itself. I might add a little embroidery to the back- something in an apple or leaf shape.


I'm still working on the second mitten, but they're such a fast knit, I'm pretty sure that they'll be done long before winter is. I'm guessing I'll have just a little yarn left over.

The Quilt Part Deux

Today I finished all but two of seams on the quilt. Lest you disbelieve, I also ventured to the Public Library to upload some pictures.

I really love it. There are mistakes. But it is a first try, and I tore out plenty of seams to try to get it just right.



When I took this picture, I had just started putting the horizontal sashing in and I was a little overwhelmed by the strong red. Having had a few days to look at it now, I think it's really perfect. The fabrics I chose for the blocks wound up being mostly blue with a lot of tans/browns/yellows and reds, some greens and some purples and blacks. I like the color distribution in blocks, and I think the red sashing helps pull out the bright, warm tones so that the whole top feels cheery in a very rich way.

I can't wait to head down to Heartworks fabrics here in Fly Creek and pick out a nice piece to use for backing. Mom, any tips on how much to get and how to put it together so I can start quilting?

And what kind of quilting should I think about? I've got all that space in the sashing to quilt. I don't have any stencils or anything to work with yet, so I've got a totally blank canvas.

Right now I couldn't be happier with it, really.

Wish list

Things I would like to be doing right now:

Running outside in shorts, listening to my iPod
Uploading pictures to the blog
Knitting on the back deck, warm in the sun

Life is hard.

Bone

Today I worked on the quilt. I have a few more seams to do on the sashing before I can move on to the next step, but it's coming together nicely. Brett said he liked the way it looked, and I think I do too, although the bright red sashing might be a little overwhelming to the blocks. I'll get a picture up after my next library pilgrimage.

For my birthday, Brett bought me a set of antique bone knitting needles.

Talk about a beautiful tool! You can tell holding them that they've been used over and over again, because the ivory is polished to a beautiful luster. Stitches slide off the way they would on metal, but don't slip. The points are extreemly sharp, but broaden realtively quickly, unlike the stilleto shape you need to keep fine points on metal needles. I've never seen a needle like this before, and I love working with them.

So tonight I whipped up a swatch with the Dream in Color in my stash. Remember? This stuff:


I really do need another pair of mittens.

Interweave Knits

If you don't know Interweave, as far as I can tell, you are missing out on one of the truly great knitting resources of our time. It's a quarterly magazine, full of interesting product reviews, essays about knitting philosophy, great articles on technique and page after page of delicious knitting photography. I can only aspire to be so pretty on this blog. The patterns they publish are usually close to my tastes- sophisticated, but comfortable, with just a touch of special pretty detail, eminently wearable without being boring. When I sit down to start a big project, I know I'll spend upwards of $50 on supplies and weeks of time committed to the project, so I want it to intrigue, challenge, and ultimately satisfy me. Interweave always has at least a few patterns I immediately like and a couple that grow on me. And of course, no one can be happy all the time, but they hit the mark more often than not. Go and take a look, then come back and we'll talk.

My favorite sweater this issue is probably the cover sweater, the Diminishing Rib Cardigan, a very simple, clean design shown in a pretty wheat color. I love the waist definition, the subtle belling at the three quarter length sleeves and the swingy open front. I want to make it immediately.

I also love the violet Silk Cocoon Cardigan. I think the neckline is probably too wide for me, but the wrap would be flattering and there's just enough interest in the bubbly stitch pattern at the cuffs and shoulder. The yarn is the fine and completely luxurious Blue Sky Alpacas Alpaca Silk. I very rarely consider the recommended yarn for sweater projects, mostly because it's never within my budget, but this sweater would be so perfect in that yarn it's hard for me to think of a substitute.

I will say that I don't understand the Watered Quartz Tee even a little. The big horizontal stripes and basic square construction make even the very pretty model look unfortunately broad and flat. The texture is appealing, but the whole shape of the sweater seems terribly off to me...

On the other hand, the strong ZickZack Tunic would look horrible on me, falling as it does a good foot below the posterior, but I love the way the drop sleeves create a little flutter and the cowl wraps you in warmth, despite the short sleeves and all over sharp lace patterning. I wonder how this would look if I shortened it to a more realistic length for my hips, maybe with that ribbing starting at my natural waist and continuing to just past the belt line. This sweater was not an immediate favorite, but it has a lot of apparent potential.

The first project I'll probably actually get to is the Baa Rug- a really cute moss stitch throw rug knit with roving, instead of spun yarn, on size 50 needles. I happen to have a whole bunch of chocolate brown camel roving that has just a few too many gaurd hairs left in it to be something I love spinning- this will be a perfect project to use it up.

Interweave also picked a number of accessories that I think are great including the Float Stole, Bettie's Lace Stocking, Net Duffle, and Blooming Cotton Scarf. Small, fun projects like that will be perfect summer knitting for when it's too hot to work with wool.


The article I was talking about yesterday was "Start as Many New Projects as You Can" by Vicki Square. She urges knitters to imagine that each unfinished project has been given to you by another knitter and you have free reign to do whatever you want with them. Like felting down a fair isle project into hat, or cutting (gasp) a cardigan into pillowcase material. This was an idea I had not thought of- my UFOs tend to pile up and I say, "I'll finish that, or unravel that sometime soon" and the prospect of actually tearing them up is painful and daunting, so I never do anything about it. No more! I have productive energy now!

In that spirit, I managed to lose one of my favorite, awesome fair isle mittens this winter, leaving me with just the one.

Any suggestions on what to do with one lonely little mitten. I can't throw it out because it's just too pretty and i spent too long knitting it. So what can I do?

I'm sitting with my laptop at the tiny little Cooperstown library using their blessed, wonderful wireless internet access so as to avoid killing the access we have at the house with Kbs and Kbs of upload information. I hope to make this a weekly pilgrimage so that I can upload photos here and then edit posts at home.

Oddly, I have missed the blogging. Knowing that there are people interested in hearing about them helps me focus on the positive and interesting things about life here. And since work at the moment pays the bills but doesn't do much in the way of intellectual stimulation, it's good to have a chance to try to write well about things that matter. And what matters to me is being able to create things.

Yesterday I got my spring issue of Interweave Knits (thanks Mom!). I will tell you all about how I feel about it and the patterns tomorrow, I think, once I've had another night to read the patterns and give it some thought. But the article I want to talk about right now was about starting as many new projects as you can. There has been so much new in my life lately that in my knitting I desperately wanted to actually finish something. And in January, I absolutely did.

I finished my mom's Bristow Sweater. So much measuring and resizing and seaming and a weeks long search for buttons in this frozen land and finally, at last, a sweater I am deeply proud of. Mom says it's snug, and I probably could have given a few more stitches of ease throughout, and added another inch to the sleeves, but hopefully it's flattering and warm.

Before I sewed up all the seams and wove in the ends, it looked like this:





I forgot to take a picture when it was all done with buttons and such, but trust me, it was a thing of beauty. And rather a lot of cat and dog hair I tried to eradicate without much luck.

I used Cascade 220 Superwash yarn and bought more than enough. There's two and a half balls left! It was a beautiful soft yarn that I enjoyed knitting with, though I did find that the red dye would come off on my hands when I worked with it for extended periods of time. Before I figured it out, I thought I was working my hands raw! I soaked the pieces about a half an hour before I blocked them, and then ran the sweater through a cold woolen cycle before I sent it off, so hopefully most of the color is now fast.

I also finished a pattern for socks that I'd been working on since the summer. I bought the yarn on a whim- my only non-gift yarn purchase of the year and wrote up a pattern inspired by Sophia Copola's movie about Marie Antoinette. Full of pretty vivid colors and over the top luxury, I thought the sweet pink of the sock yarn would be just right for a princess soled sock with a little lacy cuff and a picot bind off.

The end result was this:

The pattern is written and I'm looking for test knitters if anyone's interested in a free sock pattern...

I also worked on a pattern for a slouched hat with Linda's yarn, the one I talked about in my stash post.

The hat turned out like this:

This pattern is all written up and ready to be tested too...

Now, having finished and accomplished and whatnot, I am bored. I started another pair of socks and lost a needle with only one sock done. I started a lace project only to discover that my cat decided that she loves to play with yarn as much as I do and I had to clean up a living room strewn with laceweight.

Plea

Dear Spring,

I understand that you appreciate the drama of a late arrival. You do know how to make an entrance, after all. I know that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and that anticipating good things makes them so much better when they get here.

But please, please hurry!

It has been such a long winter and I need a little sunlight and green growing things. I know it's only February and I must be patient. Do you know that your good buddy Winter has left snow on the ground since I moved here in the middle of November? Please, make it stop!

I say all this in anticipation of yet another snow storm on its way tonight. You have the power. You could make all this suffering end. You could bring us warm air and little budding flowers. You could cut our heating bill from the insane hundreds of dollars a month we pay just to hover around 60 degrees. I'm not asking for a vacation. I just need a little break.

So if you could just think about showing up on time this year instead of waiting until late April like you usually do. And if you were really really generous, maybe even showing up a little early to the party? Would tomorrow be asking too much?

-Sincerely
Kate

stash

Today I'm back in Illinois, relaxing with my family and looking forward to celebrating Christmas. There is still Christmas knitting to be done, mostly on my gift for Mom, but I tried to pack light for the car ride back out here, so I don't have any extraneous projects at the moment to distract me from the real work at hand.

I left all this beautiful yarn in New York:


These are my favorites, displayed on the overwhelmingly pink wall of my New York bedroom.
From left to right I've got Lisa Souza Sock! yarn in South Pacific, bought after listening to the Lime and Violet podcast. Those ladies sure can conjure up yarn lust.

The pink skein is Dream in Color Classy (Merino wool) in a color called China Apple. This skein came from my favorite LYS in Des Moines, Knitted Together and it was thanks to a gift of yarn money from my Grandmother I was able to buy such a luxurious bit of yarn. It's a worsted weight, and I have no idea what I'll do with it.

Next, the blue skein is Mountain Colors Bearfoot. Back when I had my employee discount at Iris Fine Yarns in Appleton I bought an embarrassing amount of yarn, and this was one of those skeins that came home with me. Serviceable, I know this will turn into a lovely pair of socks somewhere down the road, but it's wall decoration for now.

The chocolate color on the far right is alpaca yarn I picked up at the Cooperstown farmer's market from Linda, the alpaca farmer who lives down the road from me in New York. I pass her farm every day and wave at the happy alpaca who live there. Linda is a very savvy farmer who knows that she has to have a market for her goods, or there's no profitability to breeding alpaca. Alpaca fiber is amazing, silky and dramatic while incredibly warm and soft, probably my favorite high-end yarn, and Linda knows its value. This little splurge was totally worth it though, since it gave me an excuse to strike up a conversation with Linda in the first place.

Finally, the blue skein is the one I'm most proud of having in my collection. It's wool from the 1850 flock at Living History Farms, naturally dyed with indigo in a big copper pot over an outdoor woodfire. Katie, the 1850 domestic supervisor, was an early friend of mine in Iowa and we bonded over food and fiber love, so when I finally got a play day away from 1900 and came to work Wednesdays on her farm, fiber was what I worked with the most.

We spent afternoons carding and spinning on the wheel, until, on my last day there, I Navajo-plied what I had spun and came away with a beautiful even 3-ply skein of wool, alive with a subtle gradation of indigo. Katie gave me this skein as a going away present when I left for New York. Characteristically, I don't want to spoil it's current state to make it into something else more beautiful/useful, just in case I ever change my mind.

The potential of an untouched skein is vast; sometimes it's just nice to have all those options waiting to be tapped.

Grunt

Fire Good!

The Quilt (Part I)

I have been knitting. Oh yes, I have been knitting. It's all for gifts though so I can't show and tell just yet. In the meantime, allow me to showcase my mom's craft: quilting.

I don't remember my mother ever not quilting, though I know once upon a time she didn't. When I was growing up, one of the best rooms for playing in was Mom's quilting room; she had cabinets full of notions and shelves of fabric. To my great horror she would throw out huge scraps of that fabric, just the bits that were too small to become pattern pieces. I would paw through the scraps and salvage the bigger pieces to start my own fabric collection, sometimes even sewing them together in vaguely pictorial scenes. I put a swatch of green corduroy (what on earth was Mom doing with green corduroy that I wound up with that much of it?) next to a swatch of light blue and "appliqued" on a flower that the generous might describe as daisy-ish. I made an American flag with 10 stripes and about 3 stars. I took a kids quilting class at a local fabric store and made a passable wall hanging of, first, a garden of veggies and then a fusable webbing collection of hearts. I liked them ok, but I knew they were not the sort of thing Mom did and they were therefore not quite right.

Mom meanwhile was churning out beautiful bed quilts and lap quilts and wall hangings and all sorts of fantastic things. Here and there among the simpler ones were quilts she would call masterpieces- the ones she spent years or more on, with elaborate apliqued borders and miles of intricate hand quilting. There was the grape basket quilt, pearly gray and rich purples, based around a set of blocks for someone else's quilt top that never quite happened. And the Virtuous Lady, still in production (I think) in warm earthy colors with a border that makes me think back to medieval manuscript marginalia.

(illuminated page from a Bible, manuscript painting, Flemish, early 14th century.
Photo from Medieval Art, Verinoca Sekules
click for detail)

She's very good at those kinds of borders.

Quilting is the only thing I think Mom does that she gives herself due credit for being really really really good at. She accepts praise for being a good teacher, a good wife and mother, a good person, often too humbly. Her quilts are something else altogether. She gets her masterpieces appraised and has a dollar amount to associate with them. Quilts are not tifles and are only given away as signs of deep love to those she cares about most. I am one of the lucky ones and have never been without a quilt of my own. There are three that have been made just for me: a pastel shoofly that covered my bed for most of my childhood, a stark, linear blue and white quilt that she started for me when I was a baby and I had to grow into a bit, and a brushed cotton twin-extra long quilt that she made to keep me warm at college. Mom has never been stingy with quilted love, especially to family.

My family is full of creative people. You can't turn your head in my parent's house without seeing something beautifully handcrafted. There's a painting that I love of the ancestral barn, done by my uncle's uncle. Long silk and satin dresses in my old closet that my aunt made for my highschool dances. A beautiful photograph of a wooded river taken by my Grandpa and framed under his direction. My grandmother's quilts for my brother and I used to be there, but we can't bear to part with them so now they're with us. My mom's quilts, of course, are everywhere. And the house itself is my dad's creation, from the second story addition (electrical and plumbing too, yes) to the remodeled kitchen.

I do the knitting thing, of course, but this summer I decided I wanted to make a quilt. A real quilt. Pieced on a machine, none of this fusable webbing stuff. When I went home to visit in September, Mom and I went to the fabric store and bought a little bit of new fabric and used a bunch of her scraps to round out the collection. So there's a lot of Mom and a little of me in the fabric. I picked a pattern (Dutchman's Puzzle) and she did the math to make everything work out to the right size. She showed me how to use the rotary cutter to cut pieces and guided me through piecing the first block, making sure the points were clear and neat.

I had to pack up the sewing machine (borrowed from Grandma) to move it to New York, so the project waited. Once I got out here though, I went to town and the blocks are all finished now. I took a few pictures of my favorites; there are 16 blocks all together.

Animals make photoshoots tricky...

After three days of driving, during which Abigail the kitten and I were beset by snowstorms and icy roads, I made it to my new abode in Fly Creek, New York. By the time I got off the well traveled roads, the sky was darkening rapidly and I was more than a little nervous. When I got to the house, Brett had left the light on, but, not counting the pets, I was alone. In the dark. In the cold (the heat was out). Surrounded by forests and fields.

There was no phone service at the house. There was no internet connection. I've never felt more isolated than I did that first night, waiting for Brett to get back from Austin.

The whole reality of what I had done was terrifying. There had been no room for doubt; for weeks I did not allow myself to second guess the decision I had come to so painstakingly for fear that someone would see my worry and talk me out of it. I wanted to come here and do this "adventure" thing and, having arrived, I had to either tough it out or collapse into a puddle of directionless emotions. I unpacked and cleaned and did whatever I could to take my mind off my insanity.

Once I finally unpacked the car, I drove back down the road until I got cell reception (There is none at the house. Or anywhere nearby, apparently.) and immediately pulled to the side of the road, punched the flashers, and called my parents. I felt that night like I did at slumber parties, or gone away to camp: trying to be brave and focus on the excitement, but not quite confident enough to not feel desperately, horribly homesick.

I fell asleep on the couch, waiting for Brett to get back, and when he did, another person in the house made everything so much easier. No longer alone, it was easier to be happy about the move and to enjoy the chance to do whatever I wanted with my time. I baked cookies and planned a cheap grocery list and knitted and sewed. I drove around and looked for someone to hire me part time, discovering, again, that I lack the self confidence necessary to believe that anyone should hire me or would even want to. Logically, I know I rock. Emotionally, it's much less certain. But I picked up application after application to jobs I'm extremely overqualified for. Until I finally got up the nerve to walk in to Portabello's, where, after I made a joke about pirates, they offered me a job on the spot. The restaurant is very nice and the family who runs it is delightful. I like going to work there, though I'm still learning just about everything I need to know to do my job well. It's only been a week. I'll pick it up.

The pictures I have for you are of the house and surrounding land. (Taken from the comfort of the now warm house)

The view upon walking in the front door. Two bedrooms off to the right, one of which is mine. Rest of the house is off to the left, starting with a mudroom with the door to the basement and the sliding glass doors to the back porch.



A little further is the kitchen and what we've made into the dining room. Off to the left there is what may someday be a sitting room. As you can see, there is a pool table there now. It is not ours and was not supposed to be there. It's a pain.


From the corner of what may someday be the sitting room. Complete with prowling Abby.


From the foot of the stairs looking back towards living room. Upstairs is Brett's room. It has a deck and a jacuzzi, but no heat vents. It is therefore very cold most of the time.

From the window at the foot of the stairs the view to the front yard is thus:


And the back yard looks like this:


(The stone thing is a huge firepit. I like marshmallows and hotdogs.)

Chester is looking out the window in the pool table room.


And this is what he sees:

That's Brett and Honus, at the edge of the yard. The steel garage thing is not on the property, but just barely. The "road" next to it is the property line.


Maybe someday I can train Honus not to bolt when he's outside and we won't have to leash him for walks, but I'm still working on it.

Every time I'm out for a drive I see things I want to show you all. My midwestern experience with farmland is that the road is straight and the farm houses/barns/etc are set pretty far back from the roads. Here, the road takes the path of least resistance around the hills and often splits farmsteads right in half with the house and garage on one side and the barn and other outbuilding on the other. One pretty white Georgian farmhouse with a wrap around porch has a large molding around the front door, wide enough on the lintel that they set a row of pumpkins over the top of the door.

In summation: I'm here, safe, employed, and now, finally, blessedly, connected to the internet.

oh man...oh man oh man... I'll catch up with you all once I get out to New York.

Wish me luck.

one down

My first dinner of the season is done and it went very well. Erin was training and did really well; tonight she gets to do a lot more of the cooking. Can't wait to be gone to NY though.

Sneak Peek

After 23 hours of driving, a long weekend of sleep-little nights and a lot of heavy lifting, and a 3 AM flight, I am back in Des Moines, where I will be living in transition for the next little bit until I'm all wrapped up at LHF and everyone is properly trained for winter.

Turns out, I'm about to live in the most amazing place I've ever seen. Until this weekend, the most beautiful place I'd ever seen was Colorado. Imagine the mountains majesty with another hundred or so years of human habitation. Life there has mellowed, the way a very fine wine does, and picked up the unique flavors of the landscape. It's comfortable and charming. Quaint in the most genuine sense and homey. Everyone I talked to in "the Village" as the locals call Cooperstown, seemed to possess a certain contentment that carried through in their interaction with us. If I mentioned I was new to the area and looking for work every single person gave me their card and said not to hesitate to call if I needed anything. I'm excited and very well pleased by the prospect of living somewhere so amazing.

Beside the character of the place, it's just stunningly beautiful. And oh my friends, the house... Donlon Road, where my new residence is, is in the middle of pretty much nowhere, but the view from every window takes your breath away. I couldn't help but get a little giddy when I discovered our neighbors down the road have a chicken coop and let their ladies free range during the day.

I can't wait to tell you stories of all the things that are about to happen.

P.S. There's a store front in down town Cooperstown that would be just the perfect thing for my Knitting Studio. Oh such plans I have!

Cleaning Day

Today was the big switch over from the regular summer season of life on the 1900 farm to the winter dinners/enrichment season. Every room gets cleaned ceiling to floor, inside and outside of all the furniture. Oil lamps are cleaned and filled and set in place. The kitchen is scoured and emptied in anticipation of being filled with the beginnings of amazing food. All the dishes get washed and put in just the right spot on the shelf in the pantry. The cookstove gets a new coat of black and we polish all its nickel. The outcome is fresh and pretty and very very hopeful.

Anything can happen in a kitchen that clean. When a stove shines like that, it must, in fact, be a little bit magical.

The Great Eastward Migration

Putt Telfer at Kingfisher Tower, Otsego Lake Ca. 1910 Smith and Telfer Photographic Collection, New York State Historical Association, Cooperstown, N.Y.

Big changes going on here. I'm moving my yarn stash, my spinning wheel, my grandmother's sewing machine and all my fiber goodness (along with everything else I own) across the country to the beautiful state of New York.

Though I will be sad to leave the Midwest and all its expansive beauty, I'm thrilled about the move and trying to stay hopeful, despite the lack of employment prospects. I'll be moving to the Cooperstown region with Brett, a fellow (soon to be former) Living History Farms employee. Brett will be working here, by the way...

Photo courtesy flickr member Bill in STL.

After a year here in Iowa in a living history job, it'll be awesome to live somewhere with so much history so well preserved and respected. Cooperstown is utterly beautiful and we'll be living in a really big house in the middle of New York nowhere. Just we two, our three pets, the deer and the bears. I hear it snows a lot there.

The worry, of course, is what to do with myself when I get out there, but I'm getting myself more and more interested in pursuing fiber as more than a hobby. There's been a lot of soul searching lately; to be expected when you find "The Plan" falls through for you in a spectacular way. I never in 23 years thought I'd be tossing caution to the wind and moving somewhere so different with nothing to hold on to but a great friend, my books, my fiber love, and myself. It has not ever been a part of The Plan. And if I can let go of that much of The Plan, I wonder, how much more might I be able to let go of? Can I live and be happy stepping off the museum professional path? Could I start my own business? Could I forgo the stability of a steady paycheck and cobble together a living doing all the things I love most? And what, exactly, would that be?


Changing place has allowed me to expand my literal horizons, but also my personal ones. I have questioned what exactly makes me happy and how I can make that work for me in the long run. I'm learning lessons in patience with the world and with people- things don't always happen on my schedule. I'm learning lessons in how to trust myself and my abilities- I've always believed if you're clever and talented and willing that God will do good in and through your life. I always found great comfort in the idea that there is A Plan for each of us, but I don't know if I've ever thought that it might not be My Plan and still make me happy. So often, I've told myself after hardship that it's part of the way things are supposed to be and that it will all work out for the best. I did not think that deviation from my plan could be good. I'm learning to let go. Which is really terribly difficult.

Let it be further said, that while I am making a terribly selfish and independent decision, I could not do this without the support of my family. They love me and have been characteristically realistic while also being encouraging. If they were upset or angry about my choice to move, I don't honestly know what I would have done.

Now I know some things about myself:
1. If I actually care about people I tend to consider their needs before my own.
2. I like to cook and am very good at it, but only really love it when I'm doing it for others.
3. Natural, seasonal, local food is the very best kind.
4. I deeply appreciate art, especially informal art and good design.
5. I enjoy the artistry of fiber in most of its various forms, but I only really love it when I'm sharing it with others.
6a. I must be actively doing things because
6b. I love to research but
6c. I'm a terrible scholar
6d. and yet I like knowing things that most people don't.
7. I'm a really good teacher.
8. I think kids are fantastic, especially middle schoolers.
9. I generally like people, but I hate it when people don't treat me like I'm a person too.
10. Cheese and good beer and other sundry carbs are the foods of my heritage and I love and respect them.
11. I'm not afraid to ask for help as much as I used to be
12. I was born to be in charge- it is my element.
13. I have hundreds of great ideas and lack follow-through on way too many of them.
14. I am most creative when surrounded by people with similar interests.
15. Someday I want to live on a farm, but I want someone else to farm it.

And the million dollar question:
What do I do with all this?

I'll be getting a couple dinky part-time jobs in Cooperstown to start, probably, and maybe pursuing enough training to be a professional (formal) educator of sorts. I must make myself a promise that I will judge my success based on my happiness and not compare my success to anyone else- to achieve happiness, no job is must be beneath me. I can do just about anything and make as much money as I could within the next half dozen years at LHF, so that's an even trade. I'm sure I'll stay involved in museums and food, but I don't know how. I want to have a fiberarts store front with yarn and a little fabric and creative space for artists of all kinds. I want to be steeped in history and focus on the local and the unexpected and the beautiful parts of life. I want to live freely and love deeply and do things beyond the mainstream.

The most terrifying and freeing thing is that at this moment I do not know even the vague shape of my future beyond the next month or so. But I trust that everything will turn out for the best. I have hope.

A quick update. I hope to get back to this very soon- I have a lot of neat patterns to talk about.

For now: I finished my big lace project nearly a year ago AND finally took pictures today. Here they are.

I'm working on a pair of stockings at work and a pair of socks here at home that still need a lace insert. They might go on break until I decide what to do with my Dream in Color yarn. Then again, I'm on a mission to use some of my less seductive stash. Mostly so I can turn it into something useful.

I recently discovered that one of my best friends from college has finally gotten engaged. She loves rich eggplant purple and needs something knitted to commemorate the occasion. Is a garter too forward? She's a very good friend, but I just don't know if that'd be something I'd be ok with someone else choosing for me.

I've got plenty of time, so I think I'll try some natural dying with humane handspun by me wool and see where that gets us. Any other thoughts?

sweet little sugarplum

It's finally finished and I love this sweater.

To help determine shaping, I referenced the Sugarplum sweater out of Melanie Falik's Handknit Holidays. The edging on the cuffs collar and hem are direct from the pattern, but the rest of the thing is pretty well different. Most notably, I changed the yoke pattern and shaping. When I first took the sweater off the needles, I was devastated to realize that my math was right and that I should have altered more than I did. The whole yoke just gaped open and slipped off my shoulders. So sad, I was. I liked the wide collar shown on the model in the book, but on me it simply would not work.

So taking a cue from the great EZ, I knit about five inches of color work pattern and then decreased the stitches by about a third. I decreased the same way after another inch or so, and then a third time after a few rows. Then I did the collar border and a sewn bind-off. I'm much happier with the way the yoke looks and fits now.
I like the use of short row shaping to make the color work pattern curve gently in the front. On the next sweater I hope I can figure out how to incorporate short row shaping for the bust, though on this sweater it seems to have been not as necessary.

I'm glad it's done and I'm glad it's been so successful. But now I'm project-less! I'm swatching lace for a little camisole I want to design, so hopefully in another month or so I'll have another lovely handknit top. Certainly there will be socks in the meantime.


The Quick and Dirty:

Pattern: Modified Sugarplum Sweater from Handknit Holidays

Needles: worked to a gauge of 5 sts/in on size US 6 needles. Hem ribbing done on US 3. Color work done on US 8.

Yarn: Classic Elite "Wings" 55% alpaca/ 23% silk/22% wool

delays

Sweater update:

The body and two sleeves of the sweater are done. Now I have to join them all together and knit the yoke. I've designed my own two color patterning for the neckline, and I'm crossing my fingers now and hoping everything works.

It's hard to dedicate time to the knitting right now, for a multitude of reasons. I've got plenty of work to do for my full schedule of classes, and on top of that I'm supposed to be writing my research paper on Weaving in Classical Athens. I feel guilty all the time, knowing I should be making better progress on the paper than I am. Unfortunately I'm very unmotivated to write and intimidated by the idea that I want everything I write about this wonderful topic to be perfect. I think I've over-thought myself into a corner, which is frustrating.

The other happier reason I'm having a hard time focusing on knitting right now is that I found a beautiful antique spinning wheel at the local antique mall last weekend. I bargained down to a price I could afford and Bob's offered to buy it for me for my birthday. The tool is made of beautiful old wood with a lovely stain. The flyer isn't in great shape, and if the drive belt is under too much tension, the wheel sort of jumps out of its little grooves. I'm still trying to devise a solution for that problem. She is, however, a lovely instrument and spins beautifully fine yarn. I can't wait to have the chance to get to know her better.

Sock Success

Winter panel from Les Saisons by Alfonse Mucha

Winter is back with a vengeance. Temperatures dropped to single and even negative digits this week and we got a bit of snow to make things more pleasant. The snow I like. A midwesterner by birth and upbringing, I am accustomed to winter and love it in it's own miserable way. I always appreciate the variety in nature and would, I think, be unhappy living somewhere the seasons didn't change. Still, one has to be calm about these changes and take them in stride. As with all things, really.



I present the first socks of 2007, and the first FOs at all, for that matter. The pattern is my own, based off of the 2 x 2 Alternating Rib stitch pattern from Charlene Schurch's Sensational Knitted Socks. I requested the book for Christmas with great hope that it would provide a smooth solution for turning a heel flap on a toe up sock. It did not. The solution Schurch provides is bulky and uncomfortable on the bottom of my foot.
Happily for me, the Knitty pattern Widdershins has instructions for the best sock heel ever. I don't personally like the short row heel, since I never get them to fit well on my foot. They're either too short and uncomfortable or too long and too comfortable. Brooke Chenoweth Creel, the innovator of Widdershins, subs a heel flap for the short rows. Like the Schurch toe-up prototype, the Widdershins heel uses increases to create the gusset, but then turns the heel with a fabulous little short-row-y pocket. After that you decrease, rather than picking up stitches which I always find fiddly and have to do at least two or three times to get the right number of stitches. I love the ease of execution in the pattern, but it's taken me a long time to figure out the math necessary to convert the heel for use with any pattern and gauge of yarn. Having done so, I'm probably more proud of these socks than any others to date.

Pattern: Original, but Frankenstein-ed. Tentatively referred to as the Twilight socks.
Needles: Size 0 Addi Turbo circ (Magic looped for the first time. Despite its rabid fans, its not bad.)
Yarn: Mountain Color's Bearfoot in Mountain Twilight. I love the rich colors of this yarn. Knitting with it was like drinking the perfect cup of hot cocoa. I hope it holds up well.
Next Time: I will trust my math (shock!) and not second guess myself. I'm satisfied with the stitch pattern I chose, but with all the other great stitches suggested in Sensational Knitted Socks, I don't think I'll be repeating it any time soon.


This is the beginning of my traditional yoked pull over. I'm just up to the point of the bust increases. So far I've already learned how to do a tubular cast on, which I thought was pointless and hard and is actually pretty cool, because it's so stretchy and not really that hard at all. I've gotten over fearing to try new things with my knitting. I mean, what's the worst that can happen? I loose some time learning how to make something work better and what mistakes to avoid. Nothing wrong with that. I hope to finish the body of the sweater tomorrow and then start on the sleeves.

Birthday beginings

Tonight I'm casting on my second attempt at the first 2007 sweater. I've decided to go with a yoked pullover with a fairly simple structure. To help get the measurements right, I'm following the proportions suggested for the Sugarplum Pullover from Handknit Holidays.

I've also finished the first pair of socks of 2007 and they are probably the best socks to date. Nice basic pattern out of Mountain Colors' Bearfoot. More discussion and photos to follow.

The best fiber news I have is that for my birthday (which was yesterday and now I'm 22 and oh my god I've done nothing with my life) my loving family who knows me well sent me beautiful fiber goodies. My aunt, an proficient crafter herself, sent a WPI gauge and the first volume of the Vogue Stitchionary. My grandmother, the original knitter of the family, sent a copy of Spin to Knit which I've already gleaned inspiration from. I am very fond of my generous relatives. Tomorrow, I'll try to remember to post pictures of all my holiday knitting loot along with pictures of the New Year Socks.

Adventures in Sweaters

I have a burning desire. A deep rooted need. I must knit a sweater.

Last year at this time I was knitting Tubey, that fabulously unsatisfying not-really-a-sweater that I don't really count. The construction was fabulous for what I felt my skills were at the time , but it really wasn't any kind of traditional sweater-making method. Therefore it does not count. I have knit a Minisweater and a Spring Fling which employ top down raglan shaping and five section seaming respectively. I also do not count these as "real sweaters."

The time for a real sweater has come. Something warm and traditional that I can wear with pride. I want to use my own original pattern, but I'm having the same problems I always have. Despite my careful measuring and meticulous swatching, the piece just doesn't work. What I wouldn't give for Eunny Jang's designer's sense of porportion and her careful math.

At least my materials are beautiful. I'm using 9 skeins of Classic Elite's Wings, an alpaca, silk, and wool blend that's been discontinued.

Doesn't it look cheerful sitting there just waiting for me?

Hopefully with more work I can turn it into a close-fitting yoked sweater with a two color motif across the upper chest that sort of spills into the yoke. Add some gentle waist shaping and neatly finished hems and I'll be a happy camper.

Penelope Knits

Currently, I'm avoiding writing up my reasearch notes for my meeting tomorrow with my project advisor. I think she thinks I'm a bad student.

In actuallity I've hit a wall and need a break. There's only so many hours in the day and when I think about how little I know about the topic and how many questions I still have regarding the material I really don't see any end in sight. I believe this is the nature of academic research and that if I was answering questions without raising new ones, I wouldn't be a terribly thoughtful person. Maybe I'm fooling myself.

The knitting too seems to be in a rut. I'm making limited progress on the Green Dragon socks, knowing I'm going to have to figure out the math for the heel turn sooner rather than later, but not just yet. I've got three skeins of sock yarn destined for my own personal sock drawer and I can't justify starting any of them until I get either Bob's socks or Paul's socks done. I need to find another purpose for the yarn for Karen since it felts terribly and I don't know what else to do with it.

Penelope still knits. (and spins!)

Oh, my knitting blog. I am a bad knitting blogger, which is surprising given how much time I've been spending knitting lately. In brief, to catch up:

I spent the summer in the most ideal place I can imagine, working with wonderful and entertaining people, in a long dress, petticoat, and straw hat, interpreting the past and educating the public. When I wasn't splitting wood, or picking apples, or visiting the sheep, or baling oats, I often sat under a big oak tree at the end of the lane and knitted a sock or spun some wool. Ideal.

This school year I am working on a massive research project: "Textile Production as Social Signifier: methods and meaning in the weaving of Classical Athens." I get to study what I love, in a complete blending of art, literature, and history.

I am also working part-time at Iris, my LYS and the women there are wonderful, joyful people. Though the work (converting the sales system to a POS system) is a little tedious, the environment is great.

I completed relatively few knitting projects this summer, but I'm making up for lost time now. I completed a felted bag as a Christmas present for Mom, but I'm not certain it came out the way I wanted it to. I think she'll still like it, but I was imagining something taller. I'll have to be certain to keep in mind that knits felt more vertically than horizontally.

On the needles:

Stormtrooper Socks
The socks are mostly white wool with black toes and heels and a bit of alternating black and white ribbing at the top of the cuff. I'm fiddling with a method for making a "ninja toe," where the big toe gets its own little casing seperate from the other toes. Nothing I've tried yet has been completely satisfactory.

Green Dragon Socks
For Bob, the charmer. Knit two at once, toe up, on size US0 Addi Turbo circs. Started on Boye 16" US 0 circs, but the cord was too short and the joins too fiddly. On the turbos, the socks are flying. I will now forever swear by my Addis, and I'm glad I splurged and bought the good stuff since I'll undoubtedly use them again and again. The Yarn is Schaeffer Anne, which is a gorgeous fingering weight sock yarn, all in very dark subtle shades of green. He asked for Green socks, but I think he'll like that these aren't the usual bright green so common for socks. I love the color and am secretly hoping there will be enough left for a little something for me once his giant feet have eaten up their sock-yarn-y fill. Cast on November 1, worked 2-3 hours a day.

I'm also working on picking a pattern for my Aunt Karen gift. I bought some Shetland from a vendor at the Sandwich Fair with the intention of making something for Karen, probably a felted bag, but I'm wondering if another pattern might be better for the yarn. It's been hand-dyed in fabulous bright sunset colors. It just seems like such a shame to felt such a beautiful bouncy yarn. I don't much like felt as a rule, so I could be biased. The current favorite pattern is the Sophie bag from MagKnits, though I'm not positive it'll get much use.

Gary's probably going to get socks again, but they're low on my priority list. I'm developing a pattern for a hat for Paul that encorporates Nordic Runes, maybe even the whole Futhark. I need to ask if he likes the kind with the brim, or the beanie style hat.

I've also bought a Rowan pattern book full of beautiful sweaters. There's about 200 yards of worsted weight single-spun silk/mohair blend that's waiting to get make into a pattern. More lama needs to be spun so that I can get to work on my lama shawl. The two sweater patterns I'm trying to write need to be more than sketches. And on top of all this: regular life!

Say a quick psalm to Penelope, patron heorine of perserverance in an unending task, and dig in.

gifting

Anyone who knows me probably knows how crazy I am about knitting, and now, all of a sudden, spinning. I absolutely love it. Adore the tradition, the lazy methodical click click of knitting needles as I work a simple stockinette pattern. The thing I love about knitting is the trance it can put you in. I've spent hours, sitting painfully on my bed just clicking away completely lost to the world. Like highway vision, if you've ever experienced that. Time passes and you're not really aware of it, just thinking.

And now there's spinning which is even more arcane and useless than knitting. But I love it. I can't help it. Something about that act of creation is so satisfying and addicting. It's satisfying in a way that writing a paper is not, because spinning is such a soothing activity. Yes it makes your arms ache and your fingers sore, but it also lets you revert for a moment to a way of life where speed is slightly less important than care.

To clothe someone else in warmth and beauty crafted with your own hands is to give them something entirely of yourself. I know that handmade gifts are not always welcome because they're not always stylish or even on occasion, all that attractive. When I was a kid I would much rather have had a new toy than an itchy handknit acrylic sweater from Grandma. I didn't appreciate the work and love that went into it because I'd never done it. Know I know better. It makes me feel good to give something so much myself to a friend or family member and I find myself looking for excuses to do it.

I have plans already to knit Kate Kirkland a beautiful lace shawl for her wedding. She'll never wear it, cause let's face it, where do you wear a knit lace shawl these days? But I like to think that some chilly spring night, she may pull it out of the closet, or linen chest, and think about me as she wraps up in it. Jen's going to get a little knit cardigan for graduation, something simple and cute and petite just to toss around your shoulders on a summer evening or an overly air-conditioned office. Chelsea can knit for herself, but that's not going to stop me from sending her babies little knit jumpers and hats and booties. Ditto for Emma. Allison will get a beautiful, hand-dyed, hand-spun, scarf in shades of green and blue that's just right for layering with that snazzy hippy dress and delicate blouse. Shaunna is not a knit kind of girl. She's just not. But you better believe that she's getting bottles of the first (good) beer Bob and I brew and jars of homegrown and canned veggies from my garden. I know I'm going to knit my professors thick woolen socks upon my graduation, in thanks for all their efforts for me. They may even have occasion to wear them here in Wisconsin or in Taylor's case, skiing in Colorado.

It's not an issue of wanting to burden friends with things they'll never wear. It's hoping that on occassion, that little knit thing will remind them from their closets and that they will remember that I cared enough to want to give them myself, not just fifteen minutes of shopping time.

spinning

I caved.

Today I balanced my checkbook and discovered that I will have enough money to get me to the begining of summer comfortably. I bought the textbooks I still need and had a little left over in the budget. So I caved and bought a spindle kit.

In the kit I get a basic top down spindle from The Bellweather, fleece to practice on, and a simple instruction manual to help me understand the basics and it was about $15 with shipping. I justify this purchase in two ways:

1. It's less than a good skein of sock yarn would cost, and probably many hours of entertainment.

2. If I get the job at Kline Creek I can bring my own spindle and fiber to work with.

3. I've been dreaming about spinning. Clearly this is the will of the gods.

Feeling all inspired and eager to get started, I walked down to the Appleton Public Library to check out what literature they had about spinning. The answer is almost nothing. They did however have "Women's Work: the first 20,000 years" which has so far been completely riveting. I know not everyone is into this kind of stuff but I think it's facinating. The author relies on linguistics and archaeology to piece together a chronological narrative of prehistoric textile working. She talks about the evidence for the different stages of textile production (rope making, spinning, weaving) and the tools that helped each come about. Because I don't know much about weaving, alot of her more technical points are lost on me, but I love how she explains the economic rationale behind the sexual division of labor and why textiles have long been considered women's work.

Tubey done!

Finally finished Tubey! I don't like it on me as much as I did in the picture and there are definately some parts of the pattern I would try to change if I ever did it again. It might be that I was so worried about running out of yarn that I didn't make the body as long as I should have, but I don't like how high the bottom hem comes in front compared to the back. If I were to make the pattern again, I'd make a small and add short row shaping for the bust. I though the ribbing would take care of clinging to all the curves, but the way the pattern is constructed it seems optimistic at best that the front would provide adequate coverage for all places I need coverage. I've seen some really cute, flattering versions, but mine simply doesn't measure up.

It's going to be a house sweater, because it is really soft, really warm, and I am proud of the work that went into it. But I don't think it's the kind of sweater I can wear to class or work or anything like that.

I finished the wyvren socks about a month ago and simply haven't had the time to blog about them yet. I love the yarn and the pattern and everything. In the future I'm going to use smaller needle sizes to make a slightly tighter more comfy sock.

Someday I swear I'm going to make a sweater that I can confidently and comfortably wear outside the house. Making Tubey has given me courage to work on a long term project, even though it taught me almost nothing about traditional sweater construction or finishing. Until then, I'm going to stick to socks and lace, both of which I love.

I have a pair of Jameson wool socks on the needles right now, but almost no plan about what to do with them, so most of my work has been on a pair of Lion Brand Magic Stripes socks with yarn that dear Emma gave me. I don't much like them, but it's been good practice at tightening my stitches and using little tiny needles. I'm working on the toe of the first sock, but haven't picked it up in a while in an effort to get done with the sweater.

I'm also planning on putting a lace scarf project on the needles soon, as well as an alpaca bolero/shrug. The scarf pattern is from the latest IK. The shrug, on the other hand, is an original design, and I'm debating the construction method I want to use. I could either do it like the shrug part of Tubey, or making it a seamed design. Much more work involved in that decision. The yarn was originally intended for Knitty's Honeymoon tank, but I decided that alpaca wasn't the best fiber for that kind of garment. Instead I hope to make Honeymoon with Knitpick's Shine or another cheap cotton, and use the alpaca on this shrug.

I also have about a skien of leftover Andean Silk in Hollyberry that might become another Odessa or something else. I'll be on the lookout.