NaNOWriMo, Knitting, and Creative Impulse

Ever since I could put two thoughts together...

OK, generic bland story about how much I always wanted to be a writer SKIPPED! It's unimportant and boring. The point is: I've written poetry, written stories, and am now, quite unexpectedly, writing a novel in November. Doesn't that sound nice and rhythmic? Novel in November, novel in November. NaNoWriMo.

1667 words a day

To reach about 50,000 at the end of the month.

When I began to knit, and think of myself as a knitter, I wondered. Would my creative power as a writer be sapped? Was knitting a creative release, or simply a soothing and attractive outlet for stress? How do my knitting and writing fit together?

Really, I still wrestle with this question. But maybe I have a little bit of an answer, just a little.

I am a perfectionist when I write, and I have developed the deadly habit of abandoning stories, a common, but deadly infection of many writers. When I began to knit, this fear of unfinishing, combined with my fear of the dreaded SSS, fueled a quiet determination within me. Don't flake out, Genuine. Don't disappoint yourself.

I completed my first pair of socks in 17 days, complete with losing one needle and numerous froggings. I completed another pair of socks, one that I have used a lot since I finished them, and I need to whip out my needle to weave in a snagged area on one sock, and fix the hole in the gusset on theother. And I have two socks that need mates. SSS.

But somehow, it doesn't matter.

When I finished those first socks, I felt something. Accomplishment. Maybe astonishment that I could (insert tired cliche about pile of string magically becoming socks) Anyway, it kind of kicked me in the ass.

Is it only the second day of NaNoWriMo? Am I meeting the bare minimum of words? Yes. But somehow, knitting has not undone my writing, but fuels it. Some knitting I do is creative. But last night, at 2 in the morning, after meeting my word count, the most natural thing in the world to do was to pick up some soft, chunky alpaca and work on my moss-stitch scarf. Knowing that I would get up early. And I felt pride, both in those 1,695 words, and that scarf.

WORD FROM THE KNITTING GODS

There I was.

I had mostly finished my rabbit---from Last Minute Knitted Gifts. I need pink mohair for the ears.

I had run out of Casacade Chunky Baby Alpaca for my scarf, and needed more.

I'm still afraid of my Jaywalkers---will there be enough yarn?

So I rummaged around, pulled my size 2 double points, and cast on a sock with the Essential tweed from Diane. It's a cheerful blue dubbed Marina, and the little flecks of color make it look like a birthday party. This yarn, I decided, wanted to be a Ribby Sock. I already have a red pair of plain stockinette socks, so this was going to be ribbed all the way down the leg. I was working out of Ann Budd's book, the Handy Book of Patterns.

The phone rang. I put down my good 3 inches of the Ribby Sock.

"Hello, blah-blah-blah, may I ask who--"

"Hey, it's (name) I'm stopping at Happy Garden, you want something?" It was my sister---no one else dares interupts the polite spiel I rattle off whenever I pick up the phone.

"Sure. Get an extra egg roll and General Tsos."

"Ok."

I laid the phone aside. Knit, knit, on the Ribby Sock.

An uneventful call.

But one that would change my life.

A good deal longer than pleased me, she finally arrived home, bearing the damp scent of a rainy day and hot Chinese food with her. I needed to finish my row, and as I did so, she called from the kitchen.

"There's only one fortune cookie!"

I made as if I would wrench it from her, but I didn't care. After all, it was just a fortune cookie. Right? I heard the crackle of the wrapper, and saw the indifference on her face as she read in a bored tone,

"Finish your works on hand. Don't be greedy."

I put it in bold, because I'm sure it came straight from the Knitting Gods themselves, whoever they may be. If I had to guess, they'd probably be along the lines of the gods in Douglas Adam's one book, about a down and out detective who is waylaid by bunches of annoying and astonishingly human 'gods, such as Thor. Amusing book, but not really a stunner.

In any case, I gasped, and staggered back. My sister raised her eyebrows.

"It's....my knitting! The rabbit-the scarf-the sock!" I was channeling William Shatner as I managed to stagger towards the egg rolls.

"Yeah. Whatever."

I pulled out a Diet Coke. still pondering the impact that this message would have on me, my life.

And after finishing the Chinese?

I worked on my Ribby Sock.

Hurrah for Yarn and Contests!

Drum-playing.

Resting from drum-playing.

Getting ready for Halloween.

True Love.


Splurge? Klepto teddy bear? Klepto me?

Nope. Diane, at

http://andinmysparetime.blogspot.com/

hosted a contest on her blog, and I was the lucky winner. Today, on this gloomy, rainy day, I received a package in the mail, and was overwhelmed by her generosity. I am crushing badly on the Knitpicks essential tweed. I'm so sorry that I can't make this a longer post, suffice to say, THANK YOU!

Where Did These Books Come From and When Did Knitting Take Over My Life?

These are my latest finds. I am SO triumphant over the Barbara Walker book---sorry old lady who was also looking at the knitting books, this is MINE! I am lerving also the Last Minute Knitted Gifts, and Folk Bags. Which is odd, since I'm not a bag person.

I officially counted my knitting books, and had a picture, which was crappy. I have 34 books, which are the following

Kaffe's Classics

The Handknitters Design Book

Hip Knits

Vogue Knitting

Celtic Knits

A Second Treasury of Knitting Patterns

Last-Minute Knitted Gifts

Hollywood Knits

Hip to Knit

More Sensational Knitted Socks

New Directions in Knitting

The Knitting Experience: the Knit Stitch

Knitovation

Folk Bags

Vogue Stitchionary: Cables

The Complete Book of Traditional Fair Isle Knitting

The Knitters Handy Book of Sweater Patterns

Teach Yourself Visually Knitting

The Complete Book of Traditional Knitting

Knitting in Plain English

Chicks with Sticks (It's a Purl Thing)

Getting Started Knitting Socks

The Yarn Girl's Guide to Beyond the Basics

Classic Knits (Knight)

The Knitter's Handy Book of Patterns

Mary Thomas's Knitting Book

The Knitting Sutra

KnitLit Two

The Knitting Directory

Compassionate Knitting

Mindful Knitting

Knitting Heaven and Earth

Step-by-Step Spinning & Dyeing

I also have four Vogue Knitting magazines, including two older issues with FUGLY patterns, three Interweave Knits, 3 Knitter's, and a stack of old and UGLY leaflets, oh, and a magazine called Knitting Elegance with some truly ugly patterns by Amy Blatt.

My queue at Ravelry is bursting. After this post is finished, I'm updating my Limenviolet profile at Chorewars. I have 1/2 Jaywalker on the needles that needs only the toe finished, and a plain vanilla sock that needs its heel turned. I found my lost size 2 DPNs.

I know that I will be getting at least two more books for my birthday. There's birthday money burning a hole in my pocket right now.

When did knitting take over my life?

PS. I want to learn to crochet, too.

Fudge Socks: Journey to Socks that Fit

Here's me, knitting Jaywalkers

(Knit, knit, knit)

Here's me, thinking

(Think, think, think)

Here's me, slowly realizing something

(Realize, realize)

I don't think that I will have enough yarn. I've knitted everything but the toe, and even if I did it in a different color, I don't think I would have enough for the second sock. It's hard for me to tell, because this is only my second pair of socks. I'm knitting this in Sundara yarn, which comes in 350 yard skeins. I put that sock aside while I pondered. I also came to realize something else.

Still pondering. The sock fits perfectly, though.

Fudge Socks: I just want them to fit!

In other news, knitting mother's yarn has already been put to good use. The red Regia immeaditely appealed to be as bright, simple, and just plain nice, so I wound it up. I picked up an old Knitting Calender 2005, I think, and there were some really cute sock patterns in there. But I didn't want pattern. I wanted a plain vanilla sock that would fit in my shoe and not fall down. I wanted (gasp) a sock that would be like a plain old commercial sock.

One pattern recommended multiplying gauge by foot circumference (duh) and then subtracting 10% for a snug fit. Now, I hate loose socks, and I have funny feet. By funny, I mean that I have a narrow ankle, and a fairly large foot circumference, at least compared to my ankle size. I seized on this suggestion.

I guessed at gauge (permissible, since I usually knit too big and the 10% gave me wiggle room) 7 inches, multiplied by 8, and after some math, cast on 52 stitches. My ribbing suuucks. Seriously. The tight ribbing that looks like someone sucking in their stomaches? I get loose, wavery ribbing that, if anything, is wider than the sock leg 'body'. I like the way that rolled edges look like, perky and right for the socks that I had in mind. So I just knitted. I knitted around and around until I had, oh, 5 inches, maybe 5 and a half. Time for a heel flap.

Out came the More Sensational Knitted socks book. I really liked the heel on my Jaywalkers, which is called Eye of Patridge, and Sensational said that it looked most like stockinette. Good; I wanted it to blend into the sock, and also, the thicker fabric would last longer in my shoe. But, I was cautious. I didn't want baggy socks. So I looked at the narrow heel socks, and after some more math, started the heel on 23 stitches--about the right number for a 56 stitch sock.

I call these Fudge Socks, because if my stitch count was a bit off, or realized that I needed to do some tinkering with the toe decreases, I just winged it. Or, fudged it. There was no pressure to get it 'right' because I was inventing this sock!

Even I, knitting it, thought that it might be too narrow. But I knitted, did the heel turn, also in eye of patridge, and picked up the stitches, and kept knitting. But, then I had another idea. Sure, I would decrease. But I would not decrease to 52 stitches, I would simply decrease to 56 stiches, to accomodate my foot, which widens from the heel onward.

It worked.

Oh, my sock isn't perfect. There's a hole at the gusset I need to fix, and some bleeping ladders that I still can't seem to avoid, but right now, I am wearing a thin, closely fitting sock that accomodates both my narrow heel and my wide foot circumference (which is 8 inches, and I wear 6 1/2 size shoes) It fits into my shoes, it doesn't fall down, and the color is cheerful and lovely.

Now, on to the next sock!

Annoying Blogs

Please, just because you're a woman, or mother, or anything, you are not required by law to

1. Have a pink background. Really, my eyes are hurting.

2. Have soft, annoying music that replays over and over.

3. Talk only about your kids

4. Be nice

5. Listen to me.

More Yarn & Amazing Knitters

Stop. Go to this blog

http://knittingmother.blogspot.com/

Looks...ordinary?

Be not deceived, young readers. This knitting blogger is...a Dispenser of Yarn.

OK, before you get really excited (a Dispenser of Yarn? I thought they were just a legend...a myth invented by my father's grandfathers...) I'll explain. I was whinging and whining about my lack of yarn. Taking pity upon this yarnless knitter, she asked if I wanted some sock yarn.

PS. The sock in progress is Sundara yarn, not the new stuff.

Hmm.

YES!!!

This divine woman sent me yarn, someone she doesn't even know personally, and may never ever meet, free sock yarn.

I'm really loving on the red Regia. Knittingmother, thank you so much!

My Yarn Has Come In

Sundara Sock. Sweet Brier Rose colorway. That pretty much sums it up.

Ravelry Teenage Knitting Group?

There doesn't seem to be a general Teenage Knitters group on Ravelry, and I need at least 3 people to be interest. My query on the subject seems to have been lost among proposals for some interesting groups (Blue Eyed New Zealand Sheep Herders Who Knit Purple and Orange Knee-Highs, Former Knitters Now Living in Mental Institutions and Can't Get Needles) and so here it is: if you are interested, please let me know, and I'll start the group. This should be lots of fun.

Both 'examples' of group proposals are, of course, ridiculous and fake.

Ravelry

Wow.

My name on Ravelry is Genuine.

And I am in absolute awe.

General Consensus?

Nah.

Well, that's on Limenviolet's message board, which is a scream. And I love limenviolet, so...gotta pick the right nickname!

Sell-Trade-Swap Ravelry Invitation...Maybe?

I am caught between a rock and a very, very hot knitting community right now.

I signed up on the waiting list for Ravelry in July. I had quite a few people ahead of me. I received my invitation last night.

On one hand, I want to sign up as fast as my tiny brain can settle on a decent moniker. I'm Sweet_Liar on Knittersreview and on Limenviolet, but Ravelry seems to call for something new and subversive...dangerous.

On the other hand, I am usually in a state of perpetual broke-ness, and the wanting of the pretty sock yarns. The wanting of the soft Mongolian cashmere. Anyway, so my yarn deprived brain hatched a scheme that only mine could.

Sell it.

Ummm...sell an invitation?

I even went so far as to see if I could email the invitation to on of my other email addresses. Yup. So, I could email it to someone, though there'd probably have to be some fiddling around to swap everything over to their email, so that I wouldn't get their ravelry related messages; I'm not sure.

So, I decided to turn it over to the bloggers. Should I sell, trade, swap or whatever my Ravelry 'invite', or should I just turn my tiny mind to settling on a nickname?

This should be interesting.

Yarn Deprivation

Save me from myself.

Today I mailed away the only yarn that I could make anything with; the Sundara sport that was supposed to be sock. Yarn is coming, I tell myself. I just won a contest and yarn is coming. You don't like acrylic. Yarn is coming.

I seriously think that I am about to go a little nuts.

I have nothing to knit with. Yesterday, at Crafts 2000, I was fondling LionBrand Cotton-Ease like it was Mongolian cashmere. The only non-synthetic thing there besides scratchy kinds of wool, was some bamboo stuff that was very, very silky and cute. I bought the 25th Anniversary issue of Vogue Knitting, and told myself that I could wait.

Confession: I do have something to knit. My older sister, couple months ago, stole some baby blue acrylic stuff with a silver thread running through it and started a garter stitch scarf. Fine, whatever. Didn't finish it. It's very soft, despite the fact that it will be totally suffocating to wear (I've tested) and I've been knitting that with a single minded crazedness.

Oh, and a leftover ball of my Lorna's Laces sock.

Knitting can be dangerous. Where's the clinic for knitters in withdrawal?

My consolation?

You signed up on July 16, 2007
You are #17194 on the list.
233 people are ahead of you in line.
18173 people are behind you in line.
47% of the list has been invited so far

If you don't know what that means, never mind.

I. Won. A. Contest.

I won a friggin' contest!

Diane, at her blog

And In My Spare Time , entered several different items into a local fair, including a beautiful little green sweater that I love, only it wouldn't fit me. She took home 4 ribbons, 2 blue, one red and a white. I guessed that the blue dress and a the green sweater that I love, had won first place. Check out her blog for the revealing of the prize winnahs. Then, I get this little happy comment telling me that I had won the contest. Sock yarn, in a as yet to be revealed colorway.

I am really, still in shock. The most that I have won? I went to a science museum, and they had this Indiana Jones type room where you had to find these different signs or clues that would light up on the wall. You played Simon type games, and the one that I aced was a laser light obstacle course where I ducked, weave, scrambled and crawled to find the next clue. Once we (my bros and sistahs) had all the clues, we punched them into this wacking great box thingummy, and the door of this tall, skinny room opened, and our big prize? A couple of animated heads on the wall sang about Wisdom and crap. I was young. I wanted a bag of gold. Or candy, at least.

Mmmm. Candy.

Sundara is an A-hey-gel.

Angel.

Not only does she still have my sock yarn, she is going to mail me a label so that I can mail the sport right back to her, free. Apparently there was a data mix-up, and it's still there!

I am feeling the looooove!

Buy her yarn!

Damn, Damn, Damn.

There ends the nasty language.

But ----!

Today in the mail, I have received the most absolutely beautiful yarn I have ever beheld in my entire knitting life which hasn't been long, but oh my yarn. Rich mulberry mingled with dark ash tones that lighten to a faintly orange brown and---words fail me. The yarn itself is delightfully squishy, even more so than my Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock, probably because this is merino.

There's just a slight technicality.

This is sport merino.

A few weeks ago, I ordered one of the last of one of
Sundara‘s yarns. Wonky link again.

It was in the Sweet Brier colorway, and, again, let me say that this is so beautiful I can hardly speak.

Why no picture?

Well, see, I ordered sock yarn. Sock, sock, sock.

I knew that such beautiful yarn couldn't be in stock. That, or her new shipping facility mixed things up, and some evil women somewhere is cackling, and clutching my sock yarn!!!

Anyway, I am desperately hoping that this is a mix-up. This stuff is so good, that I almost wouldn't care, but you can't make socks out of 225 yards of sport weight. Not me sized socks, anyway, and I have small feet!

Pray for me, chant, rub beads, whatever.

My Secret Life as an Ass-assin

Sock Wars

Check it out.

Oh.

My.

Sock.

Looks like fine. I hope that I don't get killed too fast.

Crappy Pic of Finished Socks

First Pair of Socks Knit, Evah.

Freaking, freaking, freak, freak, freak-out.I have finished my first pair of socks.

Total Time Spent Knitting Pair of First Socks, 18 days.

I am so impressed with myself. Especially since I ripped out the heel turn, heel flap and entire leg of the first sock and reknitted the **&%& thing. Actually, I might have finished sooner if I hadn't lost one of my needles. And tonight we have a poetry reading at my Borders, and I have nothing to knit, but a pair of socks to wave at my non-knitting friends.

When I began, I told myself that if I could knit socks, I could knit anything. Well, I have. And after the first sock, I told myself that I would be a real Knitter if I finished my second sock right away, dodging the second sock syndrome.

Triumph!

Socktoberfest

I have always had a weakness for October. Possibly because my birthday is in October, but it's also the weather. The intense blue of the sky, the maple trees across the street that turn glorious reds and oranges. The sharp, gusty winds---we really get some wind through my neighborhood; perhaps because it's coming off the hills into the valley.

When I spotted an October sock knit-along, I zoomed in for a look. Hmmmm. Hmmm.
Socktoberfest starts October 1st, although you can start your socks before then, and was started by the well-known Lolly, of Lolly Knits Around. Check out the blog
Here.

Apologies for wonky links.

I just may join, although I am wavering slightly. Gotta think about it.

However, I did not hesistate one second when I found this group,
Outlaw Knitters . You know (at least, if you are me, you know) that you're in good company when the blog tagline is, "If You Don't Knit, You Ain't Sh*t".

Check out the fabulous pic at the top, designed by the Mrs. H, aka The Outlaw Jenny Purl's daughter, Sarah. I immeaditely decided that this has to be put on a bag, or something. By someone cleverer than me. Sarah is still tweaking the design slightly.

In other news, a
Pirate Themed Contest at Gallant Duck‘s Blog is happening. Check out the hilarious comments. All you have to do is leave a comment in piratese, between now and the 19th, and she'll announce the winner on the 21st. This is because International Talk Like a Pirate Day is tomorrow. Start practicing those gutteral growls and polish the grog mug. Don't be left out on this acclaimed holiday!

Busy, busy, busy on the knitting news front!

Journals of a Traveling Knitter: Knitty Serendipity PT 2

I left on Thursday, to travel to VA. Immediately upon arriving at my hotel, I whipped out the lap top computer, and found a nearby store. Upon inquiring on the best route from the woman at the desk, she informed me that she thought that the store was closing soon. This helpful woman called the owner, and found that she was, indeed, closing early for health reasons. Whatever. She also recommended another shop, still open, that she intended to take classes from this fall. I think that she was beginning to knit. Chalk one up for Knitty Serendipity. My own phrase.

This yarn store was crammed. Here's a word to the wise LYS owner

1. Air condition your upper room. Between sheer astonishment and the incredible heat, I nearly passed out, and you would have had to lug me down those narrow stairs. Not pretty.

2. Have more colors.

OK, there was some sale going on, so she probably got cleaned out, but she had millions of different colors of Trekking, and about 13 skeins of Great Adirondack in the same color. Exaggeration, but I wanted to get something, sock yarn seemed perfect, but the color selection was boring. Also, I failed in my quest for the perfect yarn for the Endpaper Mitts. I do not want baby blue and pink mitts!!! And I can't use crazy colored sock yarn for a Fair Isle project!


That said, I enjoyed fondling the Mongolian Cashmere (wow) and looking at that cute bag, perfect for portable sock knitting. I enjoyed the colors, everything. I didn't enjoy the $55 price tag. I don't mind spending money on stuff that I really like, but that's a bit much. Maybe $25. Someone with more money will certainly buy it sometime; it was lovely. I felt bad that I couldn't find anything that I wanted in the limited amount of time that I had there, but I couldn't find anything really, really perfect.

Used book sales attract me like a fly to honey, and one was very nearby. I stood (sat) in line, and whipped out my sock. Understand that I have never seen anyone else knitting in public before, although I am fairly oblivious to my surroundings at all time. Imagine my delight and astonishment to see a woman, just ahead of me, using fine metal needles in a thin white sock, her thread-like yarn coming from a large cone that she carried in a bag on her arm. Knitty Serendipity Strikes Again!

Most of the sock had been rolled up and pinned in place, to keep it from draggling. My family is afraid of my knitting, but hers was absolutely amazing!

I am not the type of person who just jumps into conversations, right and left. That is my older sister, and everybody loves her. However, I felt more confident in our shared interest, and discovered that she was knitting knee high 1800s period socks, in cotton! I don't usually gush, either, but these were freaking cool socks. She gave me some helpful tips on where I could find stuff to do this, including a yahoo group called VicKnits, who do this stuff for a living. I'm joking, but it's a cool group, and I joined.

Knitty Serendipity struck several more times, in the several women who wanted to know what I was using, just wanted to see a sock (that one was a knitter, but had never tried socks) and the 50% copy of the Stitchionary book at a Barnes and Noble. $15 instead of $30 suits me just fine!

All in all, a very good trip!

Journals of a Traveling Knitter: Knitty Serendipity PT 1

Look at that sky! Aren't you jealous! There's a cool autumn breeze, and that slant of light that is fall, incarnate. Look at that sock! Isn't that first sock, incarnate?

The broom stick skirt in the background? That's me being Bohemian. All I need are some wooden beads, a couple, preferably, colored turquoise. The late update today is Me, Being Tired From Travails and Travels. Check out the next post, because the pics screw up my format, and I wanted my readers to be able to be able to read the freaking post.

I Want It Freaking Perfect!

Or, the curious incidence for a desire for perfection within the soul of an utter, confirmed and unrepentant slob.

Mess doesn't bother me. I can work, surrounded by heaps of disorganized items. Not only does it not bother me, I usually don't notice. I have never become irritated with myself because I can't find something that I have lost. I swear at the lost item, but it never occurrs to me to 'get my act together' which sounds highly unpleasant, and probably involves lots of Post-It notes and New Year resolutions.

I deliberately wear mismatching socks. I wear color combinations that make my family start to weep copiously and I sashay on, unmoved. I do hate to be dirty, personally. If, in the middle of the day, I think that I need a shower, CLEAR THE WAY, I am taking a shower.

A few of my family members are different. My dad, for instance. He just does not work well in a messy enviroment. It drives him crazy. My sister inherited this. Something in their soul clicks, and they feel peaceful, in control, and happy when they are surrounded by organized bliss. They hate people like me. They can't understand, or refuse to believe, that I actually don't care and am not bothered by the 5,732 pieces of paper strewn over my room, the 3,800 notebooks, the uncountable number of books, discarded clothing, pens, knitting needles, empty cups, plates, etc all forming a jungle out of my bedroom.

I become highly indignant and panicky when someone attempts to move, touch, or otherwise harm my belongings. WHAT DO YOU MEAN you threw out that peace of paper, you robot of organization, that had a POEM on it, OK, still unrevised, but I NEED THAT PAPER! I NEED ALL OF MY PAPERS!

However, I have discovered something unique in my knitting. I want my knitting experience...to be perfect. As I scoping out my new project, I ponder. Hmm. Yes, those Lantern Moon double pointed ebony needles cost over $30. And I would still need to buy the other needles for that project. Oh, and the yarn, which would also have to feel perfect, and be the perfect color combination (Endpaper Mitts, you see). If I had my way, making those freaking Endpaper Mitts would probably cost $70-80 dollars.

But, you see, if I didn't/don't, then I would be unhappy. I would know, deep in my soul, that I need those ebony needles. I would feel frustrated, unhappy, and angry with myself. I want to sit down and think: yes. Here are my needles. Here are the perfect yarns. Here is the perfect pattern. I am ready.

Starting my Hedgerow socks was like that. I splurged. But I had exactly what I wanted. I spent $33.19 on yarn and needles. To make socks. Wasteful, extravagant? No. A simple indulgence of my little known, inner perfectionist.

Finished Sock/ Wave-Lengths/ September 11th was a Beautiful Day

Before you lynch me for saying the September was a lovely day, understand that I speak in an absolutely literal sense. The sky was a intense, fall blue. The breeze was just slightly icy, and chimes filled the air. It was perfect. Even after I heard the news, what was imprinted most deeply on my mind, was a plane crashing into the first tower, over and over and over again on television. And how it happened on such an impossibly beautiful day.

And I finished my sock. The batteries on my camera are shot, so, no pictures. Sorry, I will very soon. And I found out something really, really weird.

Eunny Jang and I are on some kind of similar wave-length. First, I saw some cute gloves on a blog, and remembered the name. {Endpaper Mitts} OK, so I google it, find her blog. Oooh, and look at these {Anemoi_Mittens} .

And then I found out that the Tangled Yoke Cardi in the Interweave Knits mag was also designed by her. Freaky-weird, 'cause that's what I wanted to make from it, along with the Ann Budd socks.

Weird. Weird. My brain is shot today.

Hedgerow Saga

Behold: the heel is turned, stitches picked up, knitted, and I have called it very good. But there's more to this halfway sock than meets the eye.

I'm not going to go into a lot of knitterly detail that will bore you. Suffice it to say that when I was supposed to decrease by one stitch, I decreased by about fourteen. Which doesn't really work out very well. I had knit the leg, heel flap, heel turn, and picked up the stitches, and knit for about two rows.

Also; this leg was supposed to be 6 and a half inches. It was 7 and a fourth. I flubbed a tiny bit on one stitch. So I faced up to what I had to do. I told myself: it's a beginner sock. Don't worry.

And frogged. The Whole. Freaking. Thing.

What you are beholding is the reknit sock, minus mistakes, except for one tiny one which you can't see even if you are looking for it, since it is on the inside of the leg. Family Members are quite impressed with that fact that I have actually made something that looks like a sock, and Family Members have nearly had a heart attack at the idea of 'undoing' all the work and

knitting it again! They're all afraid of the idea of knitting a sock at all. It's the DPNs.

All the decreases are done, so I just have to knit the foot part for a little bit, and then start doing decreases again.

I am going to be interested to see how these socks fit (or sock; if you're going to be bloody technical about it) because my feet are a somewhat annoying shape, and I finally figured out why shoe shopping was such a hellish ordeal when I was a kid. My ankles/heel are much narrower than most people's are, and my toes/front of my foot/ is wider. Duck feet, really. So when I buy shoes, the heel is always looser, because a shoe size smaller and my toes are screaming. See Mom, I wasn't lying when I said that the shoes that fell off the back of my foot still pinched the front.

(She still isn't convinced)

Hedgerow Socks: Heel Flap!

Look at that! It's a heel flap! A heel flap! OK, so it's eight rows of a heel flap. But isn't it the coolest 8 rows of a heel flap that you've ever seen?

(People looked bored)

This is my first heel flap, so I have to wave it around like a mini miracle. I was stumped by part of instructions, but Jane helped me the second I asked, so, emboldened, I picked up my sock.

This is a beginner sock, and by that, I mean that it has mistakes. After dropping a stitch that raveled a bit (I was trying the sock on) and picking it up, I managed to mess it up just a little, so there's a little flub along one side. Also, instead of 6 and a half inches when I began the heel flap, the leg actually measures about 7 1/4. But, I'm going easy on myself because this is my first sock.

Oh, and I am crossing my fingers, and hoping that some sock yarn that I ordered from
sundarayarnl (excuse the weird link, I'm still figuring out how to make them tidy) will still be in stock. It's an absolutely lovely color called Brier Rose. Forget the fact that I have not finished my first pair of socks. I need to start a stash! Besides, I picked up {This sock book} yesterday, which is making me feel supremely confident.

(And the sock gods laugh)

Jane's Hedgerow Socks: Sock Yarn & Damn DPNs

Because I have pictures in these posts, the text could be screwed up. I hope not. Anyway. Here beginneth the Saga of the Sock. S.

I needed yarn. The only yarn that I had in the entire house was two balls of Knitpicks Telemark, which is about as sexy as a cup of curdled milk. Translation: not at all. You can't do anything with that amount of yarn, except for try out stitch patterns. Which is amusing only for as long as you're amused. Yeah.

Before my planned trip to my LYS on Thursday, the pattern to {Jane‘s Hedgerow Socks} was published by the venerable Knittersreview. It really is a lovely pattern. Carefully, I noted down what was needed. 350-400 yards of fingering weight yarn. Size 1 double pointed needles. Bear in mind; I have never knitted socks before.

Thursday was hellishly hot. Melt in your shoes, humid as heck hot. The yucky, sticky kind. My LYS has amazing air conditioning. Crazy good air conditioning. It's refreshingly cold, and not too cold. Maybe all the yarn helps. Anyway, my brain, sensing the change, finally engaged after a few minutes, and I could focus on the yarn.

Being crap with names, I still can't tell you the name of the owner (?) But she enabled me. I found the DPNs. Addi 1s, bamboo, I'm pretty sure, or wood. I put them on the counter. An enormous shipment of yarn had just come in, new shelves had been put up, and I felt a little lost. I had gained a passing familarity with the way that everything was arranged and now everything was Changed.

Uber-tragic, I know.

I found the sock yarn. Contrary to what many people seem to adore, I really dislike the way that those self-striping yarns look. The colors clash, they don't feel nice. Eew. Then, I lifted mine eyes above, and spotted: The Perfect Yarn.

It was Lorna's at first sight.

Shepherd Sock. Fingering weight. And in the most beautiful pumpkin orange, with reddish tints and faint underlying yellow here and there. Harvest. The perfect fall name for a fall yarn. And, did I mention that I love fall? My birthday is in October of the Bluest Blue Sky.

LYS Owner: That is my favorite sock yarn.

My budget made faint squeaking noises. I needed two skeins, at $11, which was perfectly reasonable. Altogether, I would have 430 yds, quite enough for the pattern. But managing the needles as well would be difficult.

LYS Owner: Those are my last 1s, and I'm not sure when we're getting more. And those are my favorite needles.

Fate chuckled darkly.

I beat my budget into submission, and bought the needles and the yarn. A nice bonus was the 5% off coupon that I hadn't even noticed in the newsletter, which I had only happened to bring along. All in all, it came to $33.19. For a potential pair of socks. But I didn't care. I had the perfect pattern for the perfect yarn with the perfect needles.

So what you see is the skein of Lorna's Shepherd sock in the color Harvest, and the messy beginnings of a Hedgerow sock. That yarn is resilient; I've frogged it at least four different times, and it still looks great. The frogging is because I have never ever used double pointed needles and only got the hang of it by practicing with the despised Telemark.

The wonky edge of the sock is the double loop cast on, which is easy, and I actually think looks cute. I did it over two needles, just to make sure it was loose enough. Still, there's something miraclous about making something round from four needles.

My first sock, ever.

Feminism & Knitting: Or, Why Do Women Feel Guilty About Knitting?

Granted, there are men who knit, but the vast majority of people who knit are still women. So most of my experience with knitters are women who knit. And I kept wondering why they always sounded so guilty.

1. Stash guilt.

OMG, I just bought more sock yarn, and I already have 25 pair waiting to be made. OK, let's assume that each of those twenty five potential pairs of socks each cost $25. That would bring the total to, oh, $625. This is hours and hours of enjoying your hobby, and costs much, much less than many hobbies. ATVs, motorcycles, power tools, speed boats. Any hobby that requires to be filled with gasoline!

This paticular guilt is all over the place, especially if you google "Flash your Stash" and women whine about how they couldn't possibly show their stash to the world. Ever hear a guy complain that his new truck was too big?

2. Guilt over time spent knitting.

Stephanie McPearl's book title kept bothering me, and it finally became this blog post. The book is called, "At Knit's End: Meditations for Women Who Knit Too Much".

Hmm, let's find the male equivelent. "At Cord's End: Meditations for Men Who Buy Shiny Power Tools that They Rearrange In Their Garage But Never Use". I can't seem to find that in my B&N. How about; "At Apple's End: Meditations for Men Who Buy Every Generation of Every Apple Product, Hoping That They Eventually Improve". OK, maybe that one is too political.

Hee, hee, says the Microsoft Baby.

Edited to Add This:

3. Thanking Family Members For Tolerating Hobby

Why should someone be thanked because they 'put up' with your knitting? OK, if you leave DPNs on the floor on a regular basis, they should be thanked for not strangling you. Or if you bought yarn when there was barely enough money for, um, food. Yeah. Food. Without food, we die. DPNs and death are the only reason for thanking your husband/boyfriend/other for 'tolerating' your knitting.

My brain is fizzing, so I can't think of more guilt examples, but I'm sure that you can. Why is it that women feel so guilty about a hobby that costs less than many hobbies, lasts longer than most hobbies, and, frankly, makes a heck of a lot more sense than many hobbies. Power tool collecting, anyone?

I finally decided that it is because they are, in fact, women. The fact that a women would dare to take significant amounts of time and money to spend and use for herself is still too new. Especially because many men don't see what's so great about knitting, buying anything knitting related is taboo, or, 'silly'. Now, if men became knitters in drove, I could hear the talk now.

Guy One: Dude, you have no idea what a sweet deal. 50% off, and I had all the sock yarn to myself.

Guy Two: Yeah, but you should have seen the Addi Turbos that I got. I've ripped through, like, 3 sweaters already.

Knitting is heretical. Knitting goes against the grain of our super-fast, pragmatic culture. Knitting is still relegated, in many people's mind, to Grandma (the perpetually slandered Grandma!) who obviously only knitted because the poor dear didn't have anything else to do, not because she enjoyed it.

Knitting isn't praised because it is an enjoyable hobby. Knitting is marketed as something that you can make for others. If you aren't a nice knitter, than why should you be allowed to knit at all? The idea that knitters should freely give up their time to knit elaborate projects for other people, that knitters should freely give up their time to teach other people to knit (for free), that running a yarn store is really a big club for you and your friends, not a business, all of these ideas are connected to the idea that women are merely supposed to please others. To give to others.

Again, how many times are guys asked to construct complex wooden projects, just because they have a mini Home Depot in their garage?

Knit with pride. Knit for yourself. Knit for others. Knit with cashmere. Knit a cashmere power tool. Knit anything you damn well want.

My Rabbit is Better Than Your Rabbit

(Correction: I screwed up two bloggers in my mind, and referred to the wrong one. I was reading through the archives of both of their blogs, and mixed them up. All apologies to the Knitting Cumedgeon, and the actual person who owns Charcoal. I blame the rabbit. He. Is. Evil.)


Or, the annoying pet picture. The only reason that he gets one is because he is a rabbit, not a cat or a dog. The only other person that I know who has a rabbit is the


http://goknitinyourhat.blogspot.com/


There are eerie similarities.



1. We both have dwarf rabbits. Different kinds of dwarf rabbits, but that aside


2. They're black. I picked mine out because he was lying quietly in his own little spot.


3. Their names begin with C. Her rabbit is named Charcoal. Mine is named Caranthir, after the fourth son of Feanor from the Silmarillion.


Also; my rabbit gets along with dogs. Or, a dog. He used to play tag and run up and down the hall, chasing her, or being chased. He was never afraid of her. They've slept side by side.

And now that I've gotten that over with, there will be no more pet pictures, unless I find him with my knitting needles someday, making a scarf or something.

Look, Ma! My Knitpicks Order!

Faster than a speeding train, it's a bird, it's a plane, it's my order from Knitpicks! I'm absolutely thrilled to have these lovely books, because yesterday and today I have been feeling distinctly ill. Let's give it up for Ann Budd's, The Knitters Handy Book of Patterns and The Knitters Handy Book of Sweater Patterns.

First of all, I must say that Interweave knows knitters very well. The handy wire binding which enables the book to lay flat is only half the deal. There's also a handy elastic strap to keep the books closed (which I somehow managed to avoid photographing) and a sturdy pocket on the inside back cover, presumable for your notes and pages that you've copied. Oddly, however, the last page in the Handy Book of Patterns, which is entitled personalknittingnotes, is absent from the Sweater book. Perhaps they decided that the pocket was enough. Anyway, the glossy paper used doesn't usually lend itself to pen very well. Just be careful to avoid smearing.

At the end of each chapter there are QuickTips, which give handy tips on how to make the best mitten/hat/sweater that you can make. Also, there are Personal Touches, an example being several different edges given for hats.

I was surprised to read book reviews on Amazon about the Sweater book that claimed that all the sweater patterns/designs are shapeless drop sleeves. This is not true, and I'll give you an abridged Table of Contents to show you exactly what to expect from this book.

Drop-Shoulder Sweaters

Modified Drop-Shoulder Sweaters

Set-In Sleeve Sweaters

Saddle-Shoulder Sweaters

Raglan Sweaters

Seamless Yoke Sweaters

These are definitely long-term reference books. Ann is sweetly succinct in her introduction, and on the chatty factor. She explains why the books came about: she worked at a yarn store, people wanted basic patterns, and poof, years later, as Interweaves editor, she made it happen. It's not quite as brief as my description, but it's pretty close. I look forward to using both of these books for a long, long time.

Someone Wants Your Acrylic Yarn!

Check out this blog, http://worldofyarncraft.blogspot.com/, where someone actually wants the acrylic that you’ve been wondering what to do with. This must be SOLID COLOR acrylic, OK? I’m stunned that I will have a use for the Red Heart that my sister sent me, other than for pretending that I have a stash, when I don’t.

Babs

Knitpicks Summer Book Sale: Continued

Now that I have permanently scared away anyone who may have purchased either of the two books that I wanted, I can cool down and tell the Saga of the Book Purchase.

Knitpicks is a nice website. After processing my order, it only took two days from the day it shipped till the day it landed on my porch. One knitpick: the Delft Heather wool left blue on my needle tips, and bled so much in my very gentle handwash that I stopped quickly, afraid that I would end up with a white and grey scarf, instead of a blue and grey one.

I naturally investigated their Summer book sale, with 40% off everything that even beats Amazon, and didn’t order when nothing appealed to me. Yesterday, or perhaps the day before, they must have received a boat-load of books. I scrolled through the list, hands trembling slightly, trying to narrow it down. Finally, I settled on the Fatal Four.

Sweater Workshop (the wire binding where it lies flat?) by Jacqueline Fee

The Knitters Book of Finishing Techniques by Nancy Wiseman (I’ve drooled over this one at Borders for a long time)

The Knitter’s Handy Book of Patterns by Ann Budd

The Knitter’s Handy Book of Sweater Patterns, also by Ann Budd.

However…

The Fates were at work. When I went to check out, I was informed that Sweater Workshop wasn’t available, and wouldn’t be until the 22nd. Then, the Book of Finishing Techniques was also put on my “Save for Later” list. In a panic, I hastily filled in all the necessary information, and clicked “Place Order.”

After all, 2 is better than 0, right?

Then, an innocent little screen popped up. It said something along the lines of, “Please fill in blah code to expedite order”. It would not place my order unless I typed in some mysterious code to do something that I didn’t even ask it to do! I attempted to place my order several times.

Nothing. In misery, I decided that everything that I wanted was doomed to sell out, felt sorry for myself, ate inordinate amounts of butter pecan ice cream, and wrote my irate blog entry.

But then!

Oh joy! Oh bliss! Oh joyful bliss! At arouns 11, the Knitpicks website must have finally slowed down and corrected whatever glitch that was, and soon, in the mail, I will have my two new Ann Budd books. Huzzah!

Knitpicks Summer Book Sale

Damn you! Damn you all to hell, fellow knitters!

I wanted Sweater Workshop really bad, and the Knitters Book of Finishing Techniques, and YOU BOUGHT THEM ALL!

Damn!

Mother of Purl

Step aside, Zimmerman. Put down those needles. Hide your face in shame. You have just met your Maker.
I.

Can.

Purl.

Yes, yes, I know that it isn’t much, but when the biggest project that you’ve ever made is a garter stitch scarf that was nearly six feet long, learning to purl is AMAZING. I stared myself blind at the yucky illustrations in Teach Yourself Visually Knitting and last night, at Borders, meditated on the clear, illuminating pictures in Claire Crompton’s Knitting Bible.
I can do this, I thought.

And this evening—I did!

After I convinced myself that I wasn’t making a weird knit stitch, I felt infinitely superior to all people who dislike purling. I love purling. In fact, I am never going to knit again. I’m not going to be a knitter, I’m going to be a purler.

Cough.

And tomorrow, I am going to my Local Yarn Store, and look everyone there straight in the eye.

I can purl, and I’m not afraid of it.

The Complete Book of Traditional Knitting: Review and Corrections

In my previous post, I said that two books (Complete Book of Trad. Knitting and the Complete Book of Trad. Fair Isle) had no color photos. I stand corrected: the Traditional Knitting book contains all of seven color photos, which fact is proudly stated on the dustjacket flap.

OK, enough with the mocking of the poor book. I actually have spent much of today poring over it, and enjoyed it very much. An excerpt from the dustjacket blurb-

Nearly every country has developed its own traditions in knitting patterns and techniques: Fair Isle knitting is worked without seams; Finnish needleworkers favor looped knitting; and in Peru, intricately shaped caps are knitted in brilliant colors. In the Complete Book of Traditional Knitting, Rae Crompton takes needleworkers on a grand tour to sample the unique traditions of knitters from Tibet to Peru anf from Iceland to the isles of Greece.

I have to say, some of my favorite parts of the book would be the examples of very old knitting, such as very old, ornate silk knitted gloves, or a delicate and astonishing lace shawl from Unst. For some reason, I have fallen in love with lace. Old black and white photos people sporting their fancy knitting wear, or old woman, knitting.

My absolute favorite picture is a young woman, perhaps in her later twenties, knitting in Fair Isle. The needle size is wire thin—terrifying, really. Her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. She is dressed in a white dress that comes to her knees; her hair is dark and smooth and parted in the middle. Other finished items, also in intricate Fair Isle pattern, lay in her lap. It looks like a moment, caught out of time, a brief opening of a life now closed.

An added plus is that one of 18 patterns in the back; a frothy lace scarf, involves no purling. And, it takes a size 7 needle, 7 being one of my favorite numbers. Random, I know.
The needle sizes are in UK sizes, and there is a conversion chart in the back. Also, many of the recommended yarns do not exist, except in someone’s stash. Templeton’s H and O Shetland Lace, anyone? The gauge of these yarns are not given, so this is irritating.

There’s a funny incident connected with this book. I giggled over a ridiculous photo (in color!) which depicts a determined looking man with frizzy orange hair. He’s striking a pose that seems more appropriate for someone about to start a brawl than anything else. The more I look, the more angry he appears. However, that is not the incident.

Perched next to him on the green wooden fence, is what I assumed was another man. Younger, and heavy-set, with golden hair and heavy bangs, wearing a chunky white Aran sweater than only enhances his heavy-setness. However, when Best Friend peered over my shoulder, she said, uncertainly,

”Is that a—I think that’s supposed to be a woman!”

I scoffed, ready to rebuke her for her ignorance. However, after staring at the photo, I was horrified. I couldn’t tell if It was a man or a woman!

For those who are interested in the book, it is Out Of Print. The deadly statement, I know.
Here’s a run down on the contents and the specs.

Title: The Complete Book of Traditional Knitting
Author: Rae Compton
ISBN: 0684178664
Binding: Hardcover

Contents:

Acknowledgement

Chapter 1: Introduction

Chapter 2: The Root of the Matter

Chapter 3: Shetland and Fair Isle

Chapter 4: Britain

Chapter 5: Aran

Chapter 6: Iceland and the Faroe Islands

Chapter 7: Sweden

Chapter 8: Norway

Chapter 9: Central Europe

Chapter 1o: Northen Lace {I love this chapter!}

Chapter 11: Echoes from the Past

Chapter 12: Patterns from the East and West

Chapter 13: Traditional Patterns (There are 18 of these)

The current prices on Amazon from third party sellers range from $22-31-47. Better hurry and get one of the lower priced copies, otherwise it will end up this this book.

Alice Starmore: The Scottish Collection, Rare, OOP

Scoop!

My bad luck has broken!

Today, I found five lovely knitting books, and paid—-hold onto your hat—-$4. Thank you, library book sales!

Obviously the library decided to clean out their knitting section, and decided that the following were not worth keeping.

1. Meg Swanson’s Knitting: 30 Designs for Hand Knitting

2. The Handknitter’s Design Book: A Practical Guide to Creating Beautiful Knitwear By Allison Ellen

3. Kaffe’s Classics: 25 Favorite Knitting Patterns for Sweaters, Jackets, Vests, And More/ By Kaffe himself, of course

4. The Complete Book of Traditional Knitting by Rae Crompton

5. The Complete Book of Traditional Fair Isle Knitting by Sheila McGregor

The last two are funny little ducks; neither having any color pictures inside, because they are older. Right now, these books are basically eye candy, since I have absolutely no skills to make anything in any of them, unless there is such a thing as a sweater done entirely in garter stitch. Hopefully I will be able to say more about them after browsing them.

You cannot imagine my triumph when I spotted them. Just imagine a rather silly looking person swooping upon a table and randomly begin grabbing books, then creep away stealthily, waiting for the knitting gods to strike with anger and vengeance, and you have a good idea of what I looked like.

Ridiculous, and ridiculously happy and smug.

All Your Yarn Are Belong to Us

OK, first a confession.

I’ve finished my Ravenclaw scarf.

So I need to weave in some ends, or hack them off, or whatever I’m going to do with all the ends. Since I’m currently annoyed with the recipient, I’ll probably just snip them off. I received my order Saturday, and finished it Monday evening. Completed, the scarf roughly measures six feet long.

I did not follow a pattern, but eyeballed it all the way. I cast on 35 stitches, and knitted until it ‘looked right’ then changed to the grey, then blue, then grey, then blue again. I followed the more sophisticated scarf pattern, which involves a large block of blue, skinny grey stripe, skinny blue stripe, another grey stripe, then another block of blue. The picture will explain it all, and I’ll included the ‘pattern.’

However, since the scarf is finished, I’m already bored and restless.

And today, I finally walked into a real yarn store.

Without revealing my top secret location (a bunker in the side of a mountain, only accessible by helicopter, naturally) I’ll say that the closest yarn store is the Market Street Yarn & Crafts store, W.V. Feeling slightly intimidated, I walked into a place, with a feeling like you’re walking into a church. An ornate, hushed Catholic church that your cousins attend, while you’re the lonely Protestant off-shoot.

Oh. My.

I was immeaditely greeted by two friendly ladies, names escape me now, I want to call one of them Pam, but I’m not sure. One ducked out a few minutes later. I was on my knees much of the time, not exactly in reverence, but sort of. They had every kind of yarn that I’d heard of, but never gotten the chance to actually examine in this Red Heart Wasteland. Noro, Lorna’s Laces, Debbie Bliss, Blue Sky, Cascade, , luciously soft alpaca whose name escapes me, Elizabeth Lavold, tweed this, and tweed that, yarn with Teflon in it, sock yarn, lace yarn—I nearly keeled over. However, it was kind of hard to stroke the soft alpaca silk while lying on the floor, so I didn’t.

There were also books, everywhere, on racks, on turnstile ‘thingies’ books all over. Books plus yarn. It was enchanting. I kept coming back to this lovely, slightly fat yarn with alpaca and something else in it; the plum and yellow colors just screamed Hufflepuff. Perfect for the scarf I wanted for a friend. It also felt dreamily soft, but not fragile.

However, I still need to consult with them on exactly how this scarf is to be made, so, reluctantly, I left it behind, as well as this lovely soft hank of alpaca in a pure, crisp, natural white. Wah. I’ll come back to you, my darlings, I promise—-and you, too, “Pam”!

Ravenclaw Scarf

I received some very wise advice: don’t knit a sweater. Or, at least, practice your rusty skills before spending money on yarn for a sweater. So, what else, I decided that I must knit myself a Ravenclaw scarf. Blue and bronze are the correct colors to use, but bronze is hard to come by in yarn colors.

So it is blue and silver.

On its way—at least, by tomorrow it should be—are five balls of Knitpick’s Telemark “Delft Heather” and three of their “Squirrel Heather”. I don’t care for the squirrel part of it, but it’s the perfect color. Oh, and incidentally, the whole package—100% Peruvian yarn and shipping—came to $18.41.

As soon as it arrives, I intend to ‘unbox’ it and post some yarn porn. Maybe I could add some racy photos of some bare bamboo needles. Wow.

Ravelry

Ravelry.com, a knitting and crocheting website, with the all the fuss, flutter and hype, looks really great in the sneak peeks for those who are still waiting for an invite. So, I signed up this morning. Read that again.

This. Morning.

Now, here are the stats

You signed up on Today
You are #17194 on the list.
11117 people are ahead of you in line.
400 people are behind you in line.
33% of the list has been invited so far

Oh, yeah, and when I hit refresh just now, 3 more people have signed up. For a site still in beta, this is hot, hot, hot. Abo-so-lute-a-lee insane.

I can’t wait for my invitation!

Oh, and…

404.

Horrid Luck

I am a hideously unlucky person.

Before I thought about knitting, I could find knitting anywhere. I must have seen Vogue Knitting hundreds of times in various Goodwills and thrift stores. Now that I want the beast book, I can’t lay my hands on it to save my life. Of course, I could just pay for a new copy, but it’s the principle of the thing that irritates me.

If you like cross-stitch and have lots of money, I can find you millions dozens of books on cross-stitch, and I will mail them to you for the cost of the books, plus the cost of the shipping, plus enough money to make me fabulously wealthy. Unfortunately, anyone who would make such an offer would probably find that my horrible luck will continue to hold.

And the cross-stitching books will quietly sneak away…

Project K-n-i-t-t-i-n-g

I am charging into this knitting project without knowing how to purl, increase, decrease, or even how to read those cryptic abbreviations used in patterns. A $10 journal from Barnes & Noble and this blog will record my journey.

Pattern: Mademoiselle Jacket

Designer: Erika Knight (Classic Knits: Fifteen Timeless Designs to Knit and Keep Forever)

Yarn: Rowan RYC Natural Silk Aran

This is my first sweater and my first major project. The only thing that I ever completed was a shawl in soft, fuzzy cranberry yarn. I’m going to use bamboo needles. I’m returning the aluminum needles that I bought from Walmart. I just need 7 size needles and the yarn. At $8 a pop from a seller in the UK, it’s not cheap.

I’m depending on the fact that I can take this one stitch at a time to carry me through. I’ve never even freaking purled yet. I am stupid for imagining that I can make this. I cannot wait to get that lucious yarn on those needles!