04.27.06
Posted in General, Works in Progress at 10:34 am by Rachel
In which I write a blog post about nothing and feel bad about it but can’t really do much about it because there’s nothing to write about.
I know it has been quiet around here for a while. I have been steadfastly adhering to my cardinal rule of blogging (“If you don’t have anything interesting to blog, don’t blog anything at all”), but a week and a half with no post is a long time even for me. The “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BLOGGER?” billboards going up on the information superhighway with my pitiful mug on them have started to creep me out, so I figured I ought to put something up here before I see my life summarized in the blog obituaries. (Yes, everything in that last sentence was made up right out of my own addled brain.) Anyway, desperate times call for blatant disregard of one’s own blogging manifesto.
Actually, I do have a few things going on. Starsky is moving along at a good clip; I have a non-knitted knitting-related project in the works; and I even have a pair of socks I could throw up here in a pinch (and, in fact, “throw up” is rather what the yarn’s color and splotchiness bring to mind — delightful!). Nothing ready for prime time, though. Plus the rest of my life keeps getting in the way. For example, a few weeks ago we noticed that our fence had fallen down onto our neighbor’s garage. Because our neighbor is practically Mr. Rogers in terms of friendliness and kindliness, not only was he not mad about it, but he offered to spend an inordinate amount of time (like, days) helping us repair it. Matt and I have long said that we aspire not to be “can do” people so much as “can pay” people, but when we discovered that the cost of replacing the entire fence was equivalent to two months of my salary, our neighbor, who is quite handy at do-it-yourself home repair, took pity on us. So while I’m deeply grateful for that, it did cut into my precious weekend knitting time quite a bit.
Although really, building a fence is a lot like knitting. Except instead of two wooden sticks, you use two hundred. And the resulting “fabric” isn’t so much interlocking loops of yarn as it is adjacent boards nailed to a rail. And the project is finished not with seaming but with cement. And you don’t do it sitting down in front of the TV sipping tea so much as lifting, hauling, digging, and okay, building a fence is seriously nothing at all like knitting. I tried to find even the most remote similarity and failed. I suppose both result in pride in a good day’s work, which actually is nothing to sneeze at.
Through it all, Starsky blocks. The fronts and back, anyway. I actually have both sleeves finished as well. When I eventually do my finished object post about Starsky I will explain that my new floor-length cabled wool cardigan ball gown is my well-deserved punishment for not washing and blocking my swatch before determining my row gauge. In the meantime, I’m plugging along on the double-knitted belt, which is taking for freakin’ ever and looks like tush. Then it’s just the seaming left (I’m thinking of using cement to put it together — it worked great on the fence) and the big ol’ collar. I’m rooting for a cold spell at the end of next week.
Lately I’ve been thinking that my blog really needs a “hook.” Some bloggers offer free patterns, some have a Museum of Kitschy Stitches, some have lots of helpful techniques and tutorials. I have self-deprecation and dull apologies for being dull. Needless to say, that’s not going to get me a book deal. You probably recall that I flirted with the idea of posting naked pictures of myself as my hook, and while that went over quite well with most of my depraved readership, my family and coworkers read this blog. So it’s something I’ll continue to puzzle over, this “hook.” If you have hooks to spare, you may submit your suggestions in the comments. (In college we used the expression “getting mad hooks” to mean hooking up. So if you comment that you have hooks to spare, I will not be able to help but think of you as something of a Don Juan from now on.)
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04.16.06
Posted in General, Works in Progress at 5:48 pm by Rachel
For many years my family has made a habit of celebrating holidays on the most convenient date, without regard for technicalities such as, well, the date on which said holidays actually fall. Christmas is the primary example. As my parents are divorced, we are able to spend Christmas day with only one of them. So we enjoy a full celebration of the holiday with the other parent the day before, or the day after, or the closest weekend day, or the following Saturday…whenever is the most convenient.
Some people think it would feel somehow inauthentic to celebrate a holiday on the wrong day. It doesn’t. Surround yourself with family, food, and all the appropriate accessories and accoutrements and you’ll have no idea that the rest of the world is out elbowing each other in the delicate parts in order to be the first through the door of the Wal-Mart down the road. Nope, it’s all peace on earth from where you’re sitting (near the Christmas ham).
When I first introduced Matt and his family to this concept, they were appalled. Some years back I reasonably suggested that we make a practice of observing Thanksgiving one day late. This would allow us all to travel to St. Louis on Thursday, a far less expensive and hectic day on which to fly. The fact that the grocery store would be open while we were preparing Thanksgiving dinner was an added bonus. This was unthinkable to them at first — how could we possibly celebrate Thanksgiving without knowing, deep in our hearts, that somewhere in New York City there were Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade balloons injuring spectators at that very moment? Well, I convinced them to try it once, and the convenience became so obvious to all involved that we agreed each year henceforth to overlook the blasphemy of eating turkey and cranberry sauce a full day after Santa has paraded down 34th Street.
With that lengthy introduction (are you still here?), you should not be surprised to know that Matt and I hosted Passover’s traditional second Seder on the fourth night of Passover this year. Come on, who can travel mid-week? A Saturday is just so much easier. Matt and his sisters and his sister’s girlfriend and I had a great meal, topped off with a rowdy hunt for the afikomen. (The prize? The last piece of Chanukah gelt. It was cutthroat.)
(A quick note for those who may be confused at this point by the Christmas stuff at the beginning of this post and the Passover stuff here: yes, Matt’s Jewish and I am not. We have learned well in the past nine years that this is an issue of some difficulty for people all over the religious map. However, we have found great pleasure in exuberantly celebrating each other’s holidays, and I hope none of my readers takes offense to that arrangement.)
The quality family time that dominated the weekend limited my knitting progress, though I did manage to find moments for “filler knitting” (that’s code for “socks”) while we played board games after dinner. It is great to knit during games — when you lose, you can airily say, “Oh, I wasn’t giving it my full attention,” and if you win you can insufferably boast, “Ha, I beat all you fools without even giving the game my full attention!” As a side note for all you game-lovers out there, this game, Ticket To Ride, is a little known but incredibly fun game. (Though linked here to Amazon, you can get it cheaper (but still new) on eBay.) It’s relatively simple to learn, has just the right proportions of strategy and luck, and only takes about an hour to play (yes, Risk and Monopoly, I am criticizing you).
As I’ve said in the past, I generally don’t like to post much on non-knitting-related topics, and clearly this post is an egregious violation of that policy. But I’m pretty squarely in the middle of a couple projects right now, without any finished objects expected in the next couple weeks, and I didn’t want my blog to start gathering dust bunnies. To prove, however, that it was not my evil plan over this past year to entice you all here under false pretenses with my dee-lightful knitting commentary, tricking you all into Bloglinesing me, only to abandon all knitting content and force you to read drivel about my scintillating life, here is my progress on Starsky (that’s the finished back and the beginning of the left front). You can also observe the progress of our weeping cherry tree toward full blossom, because I know many of you care deeply about the state of our landscaping. I am pleased with how quickly it is coming along (Starsky, not the tree, though I have no complaints about the speed with which the tree is flowering) and I can’t wait to wear it.
Happy Passover and Easter to all who celebrate (and whenever you celebrate)!
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04.10.06
Posted in General, Works in Progress at 3:02 pm by Rachel
In which we discover that every truth I communicate to Laura immediately begins a process of becoming untrue.
Some of you may have noticed that handknit socks have made a fairly abrupt appearance on my blog recently, in spite of previous posts expressing my bafflement at knitters’ interest in investing so much time in these little projects destined to be walked all over. My recent foray into this widely adored subcategory of knitting has prompted questions of two flavors: 1) So, are you hooked yet? and 2) What happened to your solidarity with apathetic sock knitters everywhere?
As a fairly high scorer on the conflict-avoidance scale who always wants to make everyone happy, I am somewhat reluctant to answer, since the truth is bound to disappoint both groups. To let down the latter group, I admit that I can see some of the appeal of sock knitting and will probably crank out a few pairs of socks a year. For the disappointment of the former group, I confess that I will not any time soon be composing symphonies of adoration to sock-knitting, and my reasons for doing it at all are solidly pragmatic. There, have I dissatisfied everyone equally?
So why am I knitting socks? Three reasons. First, I was pleased to discover how nicely socks tuck away into my bag (as seen here in this totally unposed photo), easily accessible while on the bus or in other “waiting around” situations. I know other projects can do that too, but many of them quickly grow too large and cumbersome or don’t have the same level of simplicity and repetitiveness that I value in situations when I’m only knitting a few rows at a time. Having a pair of socks going all the time means always having something entirely mindless to knit when such a project is called for. (Tangent: Upon returning inside after taking this absolutely candid photo, I discovered that I was missing a needle. Know what looks a lot like a size 1 bamboo double-pointed needle? Pretty much everything in a standard New England backyard in April. Total needles found: Zero. Number of twigs pounced upon with an “Ah ha!” only to be tossed aside in embarrassment: Lots.)
Second, wearing handknit socks is actually pretty great. They feel sturdy and luxurious and cozy (and supremely well-fitting) all at the same time. I can understand why this advantage to sock knitting might be lost on, say, Texas residents, but for those of us in New England, who shiver from September right through May, it’s just short of a Godsend. The desire to wear handknit socks more than one day a week is a powerful motivator, and it opened my mind even further to the possibility of becoming a regular sock-knitter.
And now I offer the third reason that sock knitting has weaseled its way into my life:
The yarn is too beautiful to resist. I don’t much like variegated yarn for my sweaters, bags, tank tops, etc. Solid colors are more my style. But with sock yarn I can freely partake of the gorgeous hand-painteds, hand-dyes, self-stripings, and other delicious color adventures. (Yep, that’s Ravenclaw yarn there on the right!) And, well, unfortunately I’ve been doing that with a bit less self-control than I might like.
Which brings me to my newfound superstition about talking (via email) to Laura. A few months ago I told her that I shared her apathy toward sock knitting. Immediately I developed a deep-seated desire to knit socks. Then last week I rather boastfully told her that I have practically eliminated the stash-expanding tendencies that used to plague me. How many skeins of sock yarn did I purchase in the three days following that boast? Seven. Seven skeins. I know that’s a paltry stash compared to what many others can claim, but it’s a complete reversal of my non-stashing inclinations! She’s working voodoo on me, people, and you can bet I will be wary in my interactions with her from now on. (I wonder what part of the voodoo doll you stick to make someone buy too much yarn? The wallet part?)
So, now for the part where I disappoint the sock-knitting enthusiasts. My own enthusiasm has topped out at knitting plain, stockinette, toe-up socks. It’s not that I don’t want to challenge myself in my knitting, it’s that I want my limited “real” knitting time — the time in which I am able to focus on intricate, challenging techniques — to be rewarded by more than fancy socks. I know that the yarn I’m using for the socks shown here (Artyarns Ultramerino, by the way) was probably crying out for some kind of lacy pattern (without it I’m somewhat disappointed to see that the lovely colors in the skein translate into a general splotchy muddiness in the sock), but I want to keep my socks squarely in the realm of bus knitting and save my focused knitting time for showier things like sweaters and shawls.
So socks, for me, are destined to be “filler” knitting, and my adventurous knitting will be confined to (sorry, sock lovers) more worthy projects. I’ll still get the benefit of amassing a collection of handknit socks to wear without sacrificing any time on things like Starsky (progress for which is shown below — I am up to the armhole shaping on the back). I think this still makes me a worthy member of the Apathetic Sock Knitters Club (after all, it’s not the ANTI-Sock Knitters Club), but if Laura wants to carry out her threat to rewrite history, banish any mention of me in the club’s annals, and declare that Monkee was her original cofounder (no disturbing totalitarian tendencies to discern there, no siree), so be it.
Thus ends my psychological struggle with sock knitting (this topic will be covered in depth in one of the required courses at my recently founded School of Psychoknittery). I am at peace with its role in my life. I will not write any more lengthy blog posts about it, and I will restrict my photo documentation of each pair of socks to a quick snapshot here and there. And as proof that my other knitting has not been neglected while I wrestled with these existential knitting questions, here is a crappy picture of my Starsky progress (the cable pattern will look much nicer blocked). I am actually quite excited about this sweater and hope to finish it in time to wear it once or twice before the warm weather fully arrives.
Y’all are real sweet to stick it out all the way to the end of my ramblings, by the way.
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04.05.06
Posted in Finished Objects at 10:47 am by Rachel
Pattern: Totally effed up version of the legwarmers from Last Minute Knitted Gifts
Yarn: Misguided combination of Cascade 220 and Kidsilk Haze
Notes: It helps not to be an idiot while knitting this pattern.
Back in December I was intrigued by MintyFresh’s idea for hidden legwarmers. I have no interest in legwarmers as a fashion statement — I try to make as little statement as possible with my fashion decisions, such as they are. Having a good deal of Yankee practicality in my genes, however, I was drawn to them not for their form but for their function: their potential to provide a little extra warmth against the whipping winds of New England winters. Cleverly worn under pants, not skirts, they would be like long underwear but much easier to take on and off as needed. Smart, right? Well, here they are:
What, that’s not quite as much as you wanted to see? I think you should trust me here that you don’t want to see any more than that. Seriously. Well, fine. Before I show them to you, though, I just want to remind you that they aren’t meant to be seen. (Good thing, too, because they would terrify babies and make grown men cry. Even the pictures all came out terribly for some reason.) In my defense, I still think this is a good idea. And it’s not my fault that everything went wrong in its execution. Well, actually, it’s entirely my fault.
First I picked an ill-conceived yarn combination. The LYS didn’t really have anything that inspired me, but at the time I was eager to start the project and I’d spent so much time dithering about it in the store that I felt I really ought to buy something. I thought the brown would be nice and conservative and the orange would spice it up a bit and give it a nice autumnal feel. Unfortunately, these two things combined to create an effect I can only describe as fur. Not expensive, haut couture fur (which I hope none of you wears), but more like horse fur. Donkey fur. Basically I look like my legs grew a nice thick coat. Of fur.
Second, I inadvertently did K2P2 instead of K1P1 (the latter being the ribbing suggested by the pattern). This accomplished two things. First, it made the legs less stretchy than they needed to be to fit all the way up to above the knee. Second, I think K2P2 ribbing is a fairly masculine rib (if there’s such a thing), so it destroyed the remote possibility that these legwarmers might have a hint of cuteness. I think I made this error because I started these during the time I was working day and night on the reversible rib shawl, which is all K2P2, and I think my hands couldn’t fathom any other ribbing pattern. By the time I realized what I’d done, I was halfway through the first legwarmer and opted not to take it out. Instead I just incorporated some increases to keep the damn things from cutting off my circulation at the thigh end.
Third, you can see that I ran out of orange mohair about two-thirds of the way through the second legwarmer. Given my hatred of how these were coming out, you can bet I wasn’t about to go buy additional yarn; I simply switched to the leftover (red) mohair from the RRS. Let’s agree that the color change gives it a modern look.
Finally, I’d just like to take a moment to be bitter about the fact that the author of this pattern, Joelle Hoverson, places it in her book’s chapter of two-to-four-hour gifts. I have complained before that this is clear evidence that she partaking of illegal substances. I don’t know how long it really took me — I’d guess maybe 12-15 hours? — but I’d just like to thank Ms. Hoverson for the near-total decimation of my knitting self-esteem. All for a pair of gawdawful legwarmers.
In a move recommended by my knitting therapist*, I am attempting to move on from this traumatic experience by focusing my energy elsewhere. So after a lot of dawdling and procrastination, I finally cast on for Starsky last night. With each cable row the pain of the legwarmers disaster fades a bit more. Soon I will be whole again.
*No, I don’t actually have one, but now that I’ve thought of the idea I think there just might be a strong market for this service; let me know if you want to apply to my just-founded degree-granting Rhode Island School of Psychoknittery.
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04.02.06
Posted in Finished Objects at 7:23 pm by Rachel
Dear Blog Readers,
Hi! I’m writing to you from the Three Broomsticks pub in Hogsmead (they just got wireless internet installed). You might wonder what the heck I’m doing here. Well, last week I got news that I’d been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a continuing education student! I guess it’s a new program they’re trying out. Anyway, I spent the weekend packing up all my stuff: textbooks, wand (10-inch rosewood, alpaca core, that I got at a wand shop called Lantern Moon — Olivander’s was closed), and Hogwarts attire such as, I don’t know, handmade Hogwarts-appropriate socks!
I have been working on these socks for the last couple weeks in anticipation of my possible admission and subsequent departure on the Hogwarts Express. I received the yarn from my former secret pal, Carry, who sent it to me in hopes of pushing me off the fence upon which I was teetering between sock knitting and sock rejecting. The push was quite effective, and by the time the owl delivered my letter from Dumbledore saying I was in, I was already nearly finished. I absolutely love how they came out: they fit perfectly, they are super comfy, and I think they look pretty terrific, if it is not unbecoming for me to say so myself.
Anyway, I got to Hogwarts yesterday and was, fortunately, sorted into Gryffindor. I’m not sure whether the fact that I was already wearing the socks swayed the Sorting Hat at all. However it happened, I’m glad it worked out — things would have been rather awkward if I’d been sorted into, say, Slytherin. Still, I’m sure students from any house wouldn’t have been able to help being impressed with these babies: they’d ooh and ahh over how, when I got to the heel, I cut out the yellow stripes so I could make the heels entirely red; that worked so well that I wish I’d done it on the toes, too. Maybe if I ever make another pair. No doubt they’d also remark upon the tidiness of the short rows and the remarkable way in which the stripes match up perfectly on both socks (and all that without magic!). Anyway, I needn’t have worried about being sorted into another house, because here I am in this picture sitting on the stairs to Gryffindor Tower with my books and wand, ready for my first lessons!
Okay, I know what you’re all wondering: have I met Harry Potter? Readers, not only have I met him, but we are totally besties! We spent last night hanging around the common room (yes, with Ron and Hermione too, of course), and it wasn’t at all awkward that I’m 15 years older than they are! I snapped this picture while putting my feet up by the fire as we all listened to Harry go on in an overly angsty way about something or other. Man, that boy needs an editor! “Sometimes less can be more, you know,” I want to say to him or to anyone who has influence over his dialogue and behavior.
Anyway, I miss you all, and I hope I’ll still have plenty of time to post from my new home. Now that Hermione has taught me how to bewitch my knitting needles, you won’t believe the FOs I’m going to be cranking out!
Love,
Rachel
P.S. Yeah, Snape is a baddy, but I am going to try to corner him and tell him I saw him in the muggle movie Sense and Sensibility and I know he has a gentlemanly side.
* * *
Hi everyone, it’s regular, non-delusional me. Sorry about the post above — I admit it was a little silly/dorky/cheesy/insufferable. But the fact is I genuinely love the Harry Potter books* and am delighted beyond words to have Gryffindor socks. To have been all cool and “whatev” about them would have been disingenuous. I promise, though, that “Letters from Hogwarts” will not become a regular feature of this blog. You don’t have to take me off your Bloglines.
*This in spite of my general adherence to the rule “nothing is any good if other people like it” (at least in terms of pop culture). Matt’s commitment to this principle is so strong he has it printed on a t-shirt.
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Actually, I do have a few things going on. Starsky is moving along at a good clip; I have a non-knitted knitting-related project in the works; and I even have a pair of socks I could throw up here in a pinch (and, in fact, “throw up” is rather what the yarn’s color and splotchiness bring to mind — delightful!). Nothing ready for prime time, though. Plus the rest of my life keeps getting in the way. For example, a few weeks ago we noticed that our fence had fallen down onto our neighbor’s garage. Because our neighbor is practically Mr. Rogers in terms of friendliness and kindliness, not only was he not mad about it, but he offered to spend an inordinate amount of time (like, days) helping us repair it. Matt and I have long said that we aspire not to be “can do” people so much as “can pay” people, but when we discovered that the cost of replacing the entire fence was equivalent to two months of my salary, our neighbor, who is quite handy at do-it-yourself home repair, took pity on us. So while I’m deeply grateful for that, it did cut into my precious weekend knitting time quite a bit.
Although really, building a fence is a lot like knitting. Except instead of two wooden sticks, you use two hundred. And the resulting “fabric” isn’t so much interlocking loops of yarn as it is adjacent boards nailed to a rail. And the project is finished not with seaming but with cement. And you don’t do it sitting down in front of the TV sipping tea so much as lifting, hauling, digging, and okay, building a fence is seriously nothing at all like knitting. I tried to find even the most remote similarity and failed. I suppose both result in pride in a good day’s work, which actually is nothing to sneeze at.
Through it all, Starsky blocks. The fronts and back, anyway. I actually have both sleeves finished as well. When I eventually do my finished object post about Starsky I will explain that my new floor-length cabled wool cardigan ball gown is my well-deserved punishment for not washing and blocking my swatch before determining my row gauge. In the meantime, I’m plugging along on the double-knitted belt, which is taking for freakin’ ever and looks like tush. Then it’s just the seaming left (I’m thinking of using cement to put it together — it worked great on the fence) and the big ol’ collar. I’m rooting for a cold spell at the end of next week.
