Not a Sweater

Four hats sent out to afghans for Afghans on Monday. Four very cute hats. All knit from the Basic Rolled Brim Hat from Knitting for Peace, the top-knot variation. All knit from stash yarn. All knit as reward for perseverance.

Left to right (bottom to top?). Tahki Shannon in 19/Denim. Inca Alpaca in Peony and Blue Sky Alpaca Melange in Relish (my favorite). Dale of Norway Freestyle in 5444/Violet Blue, 4417/Fuchsia, 2106/Yellow, and a mystery green, maybe 9133/ Spring Green. Malabrigo worsted in 86/Verdeazul. All knit on 16 inch US size 7/4.5mm Addi turbo's until the decreases made me change to Crystal Palace dpn's.

Four hats, but no sweater. I am unreasonably disappointed in myself over this.

There it is, though, missing a sleeve, needing assembly, lacking the bottom ribbing and in want of neck finishing. No amount of reward knitting is getting this to San Francisco by tomorrow.

A smart woman would finish the sweater now. That way it would be ready for the next campaign (surely there will be another campaign next year?). Right now I'm leaving it on the dining room table while I try to convince myself that that smart woman is me.

Reconstruction

I didn't keep any notes on the purple a4A sweater. I have a hot pink notice from Marco's school with numbers scribbled back and front that was tucked in at the pattern page, but that's it. I know I made adjustments. I changed the size; I remember worrying about all those 10 to 12 year olds who weren't big enough to wear an adult small. I used bulky yarn. I referred repeatedly to Ann Budd's Handy Book of Sweater Patterns.

I remember that I hoped the yarn would take care of most of the resizing issues, but I knew there were places where I had to change the numbers anyway. You know, those parts where they tell you exactly how many stitches worth of something. Twenty stitches at worsted weight are a lot different than twenty stitches at bulky weight, especially if the bulky is Malabrigo bulky.

I investigated the sweater itself. I had 34 stitches left on the sleeve. I had 41 stitches (not 42?) left on short-cable circulars awaiting my decision to 3-needle bind-off or Kitchener. Near as I could tell, I had 136 stitches total before I began decreasing for the sleeve (thank God I had marked off the sleeve with coil-less safety pins and been too lazy to take them out.) 136 was a good number. There was an actual note on the pattern page that involved 136. It was the sum of 52+58+26 which were the numbers from the pattern for the stitches picked up from the front, the stitches picked up from the back and the stitches cast on for the neck.

I went back to the sweater. I only had 16 stitches for the neck. I could maybe fudge it to 18 if I counted the bound off rows from the front and the back, but there was no way I was going to get anywhere close to 26. The pattern called for about 84 rows for the front, 96 rows for the back. I have 74 and 86. I began writing all this down.

I lost those notes.

I gave up and started knitting something else from the book - the basic rolled brim hat. My theory was that if I stopped panicking and finished something, anything, for the Youth Campaign, I'd get my knitting chops back. I finished the hat this morning.

I went back to the purple sweater. No matter how many different ways I tried to count, I came up with 57 stitches picked up from the front and 63 from the back. The numbers bear no resemblance to anything in the pattern or on the hot pink piece of paper. For lack of anything better to do, I subtracted them from 136, the total number of stitches I was sure I had (because I'd counted them six ways from Sunday) before I started the sleeve decreases. The difference is 16.

Wait. Wait. Isn't that the number I thought I had cast on for the neck?

'Tis the Season

Just a little reassurance before I go into the main post. Yes, I found the knitting needles. They were in one of the knitting-that-has-fallen-out-of-favor bags. I can't imagine how they got there, although I suspect a 10-Second Tidy may have been involved (that's your link for Foolery on Friday). Also, I've given up on the 5 hour baby sweater plan. I have no idea what I'll knit instead, so let's focus on other things. How a bout a public service announcement post?

First, let me --appallingly, belatedly -- jump on the a4A bandwagon. You probably (I hope) already know that the Campaign for Youth is top priority. They have a container and it's leaving. Soon. Hats, knitted socks, sweaters, vests, and blankets for older kids - 7 to 14. Items need to be received by late October. Details here. How fortunate that I didn't frog the sweater I didn't finish for last year's campaign.

Almost prescient of me.

I'm so deeply into blanket mode at this point, though, that I may not be able to stop myself from trying to get one done for the Youth Campaign.

Some of this is even stash yarn.

Once you've finished your Youth Campaign knitting you can go back to knitting for CURE Hospital in Kabul. Details for that a4A campaign here.

Now you may have noticed that a4A doesn't take scarves. There's Red Scarf, of course, but maybe this year you could donate funds (there's a link at the sidebar on the Red Scarf Project blog). Then, when you need a break from all that blanket knitting, consider instead my current favorite in the "Think globally, act locally" category.

In her newsletter last month Janet at String Theory in Glen Ellyn came up with this great idea. It seems people start to wander into the shop around the end of November asking for hand-knits for Christmas gifts. All we need to do is knit (or crochet) a "gorgeous hand made scarf" and drop it off at the shop by November 27 (it's a great excuse to stop in). If you're out of the area, mail it. String Theory will sell the handmade scarves; the proceeds will benefit the PADS (Public Action to Deliver Shelter) branch in DuPage County, right here in Illinois. Details and a bit of the story on String theory's blog.

In case you're unfamiliar with PADS, I did a little web-searching for you. I couldn't find a single, over-arching PADS link (which is why I don't include one). Based on the several sites I've checked, though, the PADS network operates outside the city of Chicago (not that Chicago doesn't have people in need, we just don't have PADS). As near as I can tell, PADS originated in Aurora and then spread across Illinois. What I really like about the program is that it doesn't stop at temporary shelter of the overnight housing variety. It provides services -- like advocacy and job training -- seeking permanent solutions for homelessness on an individual basis. It's one of those give a man fish versus teach him to fish things.

All that, and (as you will have noticed if you clicked the link to their blog) String Theory will provide prizes.

It's time to rev up the needles.

I Know I Had Them

It's not that it's been a bad week. Neither was the one before, for that matter. It was just one (two) of those "Where did it go and how did it get to be now so fast" weeks. Cross country practice every day after school means a pick-up every day after school. A meeting or two means time prepping. A volunteer obligation - especially one where you've been given a new space -- means, well, moving. Add in that all my new knitting is conspiring against me and I have to admit to a certain reluctance to sit at the computer and chronicle it all.

There's a downside to that, though. The blog is the best way I have ever found to keep track of what I'm doing. So when, for example, I am consumed with the need to knit a baby sweater because someone has joined the ranks of that rarefied and erudite group known as parents of children with Down Syndrome, and when I am convinced said sweater must be complete by Sunday and yet can't find the one essential piece of equipment I want (now that I have finally located a pattern I may be able to knit in about 5 hours) there's no point in turning to the blog to help me figure out where and what I've been knitting, because I haven't written about it. Herewith, then, in an attempt to go backward through my remembering and thus locate my stuff, is an inventory of what I think I have on the needles.

The fourth (or fifth) (or sixth?) attempt at an afghan for my neighbor.

No, I don't like this version either and am now sliding over into the idea of reverting to a striped blanket a la Cat Bordi's Island Embrace, except with with a moss or garter stitch border and stockinette body.

The back of Marc's idea of the ideal men's navy blue cardigan.

My. Look at that. That piece is really close to done, isn't it? I may have to figure out exactly where to place the cables on the front soon.

Fenna.

This is my reward knitting, Sadly, very little of my knitting merits a reward these days.

Not a Wool Peddler's Shawl because it's not red.

This is my frustration knitting. I would have thought I'd made more progress here.

Finally, the current cause of my aforesaid frustration.

The I Need It Done Yesterday baby sweater, languishing for lack of my new US 10/6 mm Kollage square needles - the "it" that I know I had, and not that long ago, either. I really need them. The size 9/5.5 mm are giving me 4 spi and I want 3.75. The 10's are not hiding in any of the projects on which I'm working, yet I know I own a pair; I have the empty package.

In the interests of full disclosure, I suppose I have to admit that the I Can't Bear To Send this to Afghans for Afghans If I Can't Get The Knitting Straight blanket is still active, too, if only in the sense that I haven't frogged it yet. No, I really don't care that I find the colors absolutely dreadful, it's the technical aspects that have me in a snit. Enough said. No picture required, right?

So there you have it. I figure if Diane was concerned enough to fabricate a need to stop for coffee the day before yesterday, maybe some of you would like to know why I seem to have decided tearing my hair out while running around like a lemming looking for a cliff was preferable to posting.

I feel like Captain Queeg and the strawberries; I know those needles are here somewhere.

Bad Things Come in Threes

Knitting is not going my way lately. I hate to confess it, but I've been a little whiny about it. I've drooped around as if I had nothing to knit. Just because I can't get the join to come out how I want it to on the Malabrigo Squash Blanket doesn't mean I can't knit anything else. Jess left a comment (hey, Jess!) with a suggestion. I'll give it a shot when I'm less disgusted by the whole thing.

I decided to knit on the beaded scarf. I changed my mind about the color beads I want to use -- the clear amber will be more sparkly and I want sparkly for this -- and stripped the black ones off. Except in a strange contradiction to the laws of physics, matter would appear to have been destroyed, i.e., my beading needle has evaporated. Not a huge set-back, except the Michael's I went to was sold out of long beading needles, and so I can't string the new color and thus can't knit the scarf. Still, is that any reason to mope? Of course not. Well, maybe a little.

I regrouped. Perhaps, I thought, my error was in switching from knitting for others to knitting frivolously. I do want to gift another afghan. I arbitrarily and on the spur of the moment decided the ideal time for said gifting would be when the intended recipients get back from Colorado at the end of the month. This necessitated a pattern and yarn that would do the work for me. I thought to kill two birds with one stone and chose another mitered square afghan, this one written slightly differently than the one I've been fighting, in hopes that it would clear out whatever road-block I've developed.

Then I let myself be seduced by Lorna's Laces again. This never goes well. I finished the first square and thought I was on to something really good. A third of the way through the second square I realized two things. One - this pattern calls for all the decreases to slant in the same direction, joining them horizontally. The Squash Blanket has the squares oriented in different directions and they're joined vertically. I'm knitting apples and oranges here, aren't I? An orange you can peel without a knife; try that with an apple. So, it won't help me past that barrier.

Almost more annoying is how wrong I was about the yarn. For one thing, the more I knit, the louder the yarn gets. As the Light of My Life put it, the pattern is trying too hard for the yarn. I had hoped the continual decreases in a mitered square would keep the yarn from pooling, which it sort of did.

Just not enough.

I am trying to address all these issues. I've ordered yarn and chosen a different pattern for the afghan. I've ordered four beading needles from Beadaholic. I plan to thread them through painfully bright strips of paper, possibly even day-glo, so I never lose one again. And I am coming to terms with the fact that the Squash Blanket may have to be frogged, too. I'll try Jess's idea, possibly twisting the stitch on the return row to tightened it up, but if that doesn't pan out? It can just join the other two projects.

And then that's three and I'm out of the woods. Right?

The Knitter as Hunter-Gatherer

I sat down several times last week, well, off and on, trying to turn this post into something other than a tale of greed and acquisition. I failed. Let's just admit that Sunday at Stitches with no class meant a full day at the Market. A full day at The Market is not an activity inclined to elicit one's best instincts. Herewith, I give you "Stitches, the Story of a Knitter Run Amok."

I am a Stitches geek. Or maybe a junkie. I started last year's post, "I love Stitches" and it still holds true. I have loved Stitches since Diane dragged me to my first one when I started knitting. The next year Clare came. Last year I snookered my sister in, along with her daughter and our non-knitting mother.

Perhaps I should make clear that I do the essential Stitches. I've heard -- let's just say -- mixed reviews of the fashion show and the dinner. Mixed enough to make me avoid them.I'd always confined myself to a class or two and the Market. For the last two years, ever since they changed the venue, I've added The Hotel to the essential list. Staying on site is the best fun. Besides, I've always gone in good company. See above.

This year, for a not-change, let's start with The Market. I did. While we didn't get in early enough on Friday to scope it out, we were down bright-eyed and eager-fingered, wallets at the ready, Saturday morning (before my class). Even better, this year I didn't have to be anywhere Sunday, and none of us (my sister, her daughter, my daughter) had a class. Sunday we were dangerous. We didn't close the Market, but we certainly cut quite a swathe through it.

Some of my favorite people were missing. Jennie the Potter wasn't there. Neither was The Fold or Philosophers Wool. The economy maybe? Too bad. Philosophers Wool has some great-looking new designs up on their website. I would have loved to have seen them for real. Oh, who are we kidding? After last year, when I bought a pattern book, I was looking for a yarn fix. I was going to promote myself to a kit. Maybe next year. Besides, I managed to console myself quite adequately.

Coloratura Yarns (previously known as Hand Painted Knitting Yarns) was there, in an even bigger space. Behold Clare's Christmas present. It's a Giant Skein in Aqua (how did I buy something not named after an opera?).

She's promised to act surprised, again.

Fine Points from Cleveland Ohio was there. My husband was born in Cleveland. It would have been disloyal had I not bought something from them.

It's a Claudia Hand Painted Yarns kit. A Claudia Hand Painted Yarns shawl Kit. Not just a Claudia Hand Painted Yarns shawl kit, a Walk in the Woods shawl kit. What, I was supposed to resist? It's got mohair, which makes me a little nervous. I have not, as yet, attempted mohair. Oh, of course. That's it. I needed to buy the kit so I could broaden my skill set to include mohair yarn. I knew there was a good reason.

I discovered Tess Designer Yarns.

This was not the indulgence you might think it is. My neighbor of 20 years is moving in with her other daughter. I need to make She needs an afghan from me us.

The disconcerting thing? Once I went to take pictures for this post, I was forced to recognize that this is not everything. I'm too embarrassed to list the rest. Okay maybe not. I mean really, didn't I need a set of buttons (yes, but two sets?) for Lake of the Woods? Would Fenna be complete without a shawl pin? You did know they only sell shawl pins in Pennsylvania, where the vendor I bought it from is located. Nope, no shawl pins in Illinois. And what if I had skipped Yarn Barn of Kansas? I might not have picked up Wrap Style and my collection of "Style" books would be forever incomplete (there's not a Sock Style is there?). And then there was Green Mountain Spinnery. Am I the only one who read Understood Betsy and is therefore delighted that GMS is in Putney, Vermont? Of course I had to buy a book from them.

Come to think of it, except for my class (I'll tell you about that next time) the one thing I didn't do much of was knit.

Like the White Rabbit

I'm late. I meant to get this particular piece of yarn pr0n posted Monday, when the yarn arrived. Then the birthday background would have been topical. Also an explanation of why I haven't posted about Knitaplooza (a.k.a. Stitches Midwest) -- where I had been since Friday -- since Stitches and John's 15th birthday coinciding made for a somewhat hectic Monday.

The above is the latest shipment in the Six Kingdoms Yarn Club - Plants. The yarn is Unique Sheep's Green Sheep Wool Sport in Sequoia 1 through 6. The lace in the shawl grows a tree - shading from brown to green and widening from leaf patterned lace to tree/branch patterned lace. The shawl pin is oak. The candy made from honey, arguably a plant product.

Better late than never. Better never late. Real Stitches still to come.

9/11

"All of mankind is of one author and is one volume.... Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls."

John Donne
Meditation XVII (No Man is an Island)
1624 C.E.

Waiting for the Dishwasher Man

We've lived here at Chez WoolGathering for a long time. A really long time. We bought the unit back in the day when we were DINKS. One of the first things we did was replace the dishwasher. We did good. It's held up through three refrigerators and two stoves. The time had come, however, to say goodbye. It didn't work as it used to. It had become a tad, shall we say, temperamental ( more of that anon). Not only that, many of the non-motor and -water related pieces had broken. Half the little axles that held the little wheels that kept the bottom rack rolling smoothly in and out are cracked or broken. The cap for the rinse-aid dispenser is long gone. The kick plate on the bottom had been kicked too many times. The tines had had started to snap.

Worst, though, was the way it had started to decline to start if I didn't remember to hit the cancel button right after the final dry cycle had supposedly ended. Right after. We figured out that it (the drying cycle) wasn't (finished, that is) and that if the dishwasher thought it was still supposed to be drying dishes there was no way it was going to start washing unless we engaged in some pretty heavy duty persuasion. This persuasion took the form of pushing random buttons followed by the cancel button, slamming the door hard, latching and unlatching the latch (it's an old dishwasher; it had a latch) with varying degrees of force, creative language, more buttons, more slamming, hitting the inside of the door, more creative language, until finally it would consent to give up those last few clicks that signaled the real end of the cycle.

Perhaps I should mention how firmly I seem believe in inertia. This routine has been going on for months. I meant to have a new dishwasher in time for the graduations. Yet there I was, hitting the cancel button until it almost became second nature, going through the dishwasher dance when I forgot, for months and months.

Today, however, is the day. The new one was delivered yesterday. Today the plumber came by to install it. Okay, after some initial inspection accompanied by sundry thumps and mutterings, he left and has been gone for a really long time. I'm not nervous. I know he's not finished because the dishwasher is laying on its side in the middle of my kitchen floor. I suspect something about a 25 year old dishwasher-hook-up not meshing with a 21st century dishwasher.

To keep myself engaged (and patient, patient, PATIENT), did I choose something pleasant to work on? Something that was a delight to the eye? Something I actually like? In a word - no. I've picked up the Autumn's Delight Blanket, the one that I'm working on for Afghans for Afghans, a.k.a. the World's Loudest Blanket. I've been rather studiously avoiding it of late. I haven't kept you informed, because, well, look at this. Does this look attractive to you?

Ignore the yarn. Consider it solely from a technical perspective. Does it look like something you would want to send off to anyone? Does it even look right? I think not.

So here I sit, unraveling, dampening the yarn with Soak to relax it, checking it periodically to see if it's dry (not yet).

In the meantime, maybe I'll go read my dishwasher manual.

The Eternal Question

What's for dinner?

Nothing Like

It doesn't take much to encourage me. A few admiring comments and I am all over this like Quaker on oats. I started on My Sister's Scarf. (Note the emphasis on "my." It modifies "scarf.") I made a design decision to go with one color for the beads - the pseudo-hematite (well, it can't be real hematite, they're glass).

I strung my 270 beads (actually 280, just in case. Taking as a rule of thumb the number of needle sizes up from the suggested gauge, I cast on using a US size 8/5 mm needles (she went from a US 1 to a US 6).

And started fudging and swearing my way through the pattern. It's one of those that make sense if you already know how to do what she's telling you to do, but if you're not sure and you don't speak knitting in her particular idiom (that is, if you are me) the only thing to do is start knitting. Trying to read the pattern and just figure it out are not going to work.

It turns out it's pretty simple. Two rows of garter stitch and one 2 row pattern stitch where the pattern creates a dropped stitch. I have done this before, just not the way she does it. The double wrap is the same, it's the way she drops the stitch. The pattern says to unwrap one strand and knit the remaining, now a single very long stitch. I think it's way easier to insert you're needle under the two wraps, knit the front leg of the stitch and slip the whole thing off in one motion. Just sayin'.

That, however, is not the real issue. After knitting a couple repeats ( it's only 30 stitches wide) I came upon a fundamental difference in vision. One that has nothing to do with whatever variations there may be in knitting vernacular. Each complete pattern repeat/4 rows only works out to about an inch. The pattern calls for adding beads to only the first and last 9 pattern repeats. Do you understand what that means? Only the ends are beaded. I want the whole scarf to have beads. And I do not want an 18 inch scarf. This is more that poo-tay-to, po-tah-to. This is more than po-tay-to, pomme de terre. This is po-tay-to, asparagus. Possibly po-tay-to, pomegranate.

I believe the phrase we're looking for here is, "Oh, snap." I have to do some Math. I have to swatch.

Then I have to string a lot more beads.

Quick! Quick!

We interrupt our regularly scheduled blog to bring you this PSA.


Let me guess. You're drowning in stash, right? You know you need to get rid of it, right? You know it's too late for the sidewalk sale at String Theory, right?

Tan-tan-tan- aa! Let me help you. More accurately, let IBOL Guy help.

This is really immediate. The deadline is less than a week away. Go see IBOL guy, leave him a comment and he'll send you the address. Besides, he can write.

It may sound like he only wants sewing stuff, but if you check the FAQ's he says "Of course there’s love for knitters. Send yarn. Send needle thingies. Send the Yard Harlot" so I think we get to help.

Or you could use it as an excuse to shop the closeouts at JoAnn.

And thanks and a hat tip to Kathleen for blogging about this.

My Sister's Scarf

Over the course of the summer, I went missing for a while. Perhaps you noticed. At one point, I had so many things to write about and so little time to write that when I'd sit down to post I couldn't decide what to start with. So I didn't post. On the one hand, it meant if you showed up here, it was like walkinginto an unexpectedly empty room. The furniture was there, but nobody was home. On the other hand, I have lots of stuff left to write about. One of the posts that never got written was the one about my sister's scarf.

This is from early July. I work on this local 4th of July parade. Have for years and years. Since before John was born, as a matter of fact. As a result, it's become something of a tradition for my sister's family to join us for the parade and a picnic afterward. Since the parade steps off at 11 AM, we're all free to go off to fireworks or other festivities for the evening. This year, my sister's crew had tickets to Mary Poppins, the play. My sister's going-to-the-theater ensemble included a - scarf. A fabulous scarf, casually draped around her neck and hanging open over the front of her jacket, just as if it weren't a work of art. Fine yarn. Sparkly. Beautiful colors. I wanted it. Really badly. We're talking a serious case of apple-green envy here. I needed a scarf like that.

I've been in pursuit, admittedly as an on and off sort of thing until lately, ever since. It's been there, nibbling at the edges of my consciousness, every time I went into a yarn store, every time I browsed online. The search got earnest over these past few weeks. I have finally tracked down the components. I found the pattern - or at least a reasonable facsimile thereof, on Ravelry. Since then I've been hunting yarn. I was thinking silk.

Yesterday I hauled Marco off to Knitche, ostensibly to check out their bagged yarn sale. In reality, however secret and un-admitted, I wanted my scarf. That, and there was the problem of not remembering nearly as much as I thought I did about knitting with beads. I could not figure out the pattern directions. At Knitche, I found my yarn, which is not silk, nor is it the fingering weight that pattern called for. It's Prism Saki in Woodland.

I was pretty sure I had beads left over from the class. That didn't stop me from taking a side trip to Michael's (the bead store next door to Knitche didn't open until noon) and, let's call it, expanding my options.

Not only that, before we left Knitche, I found a Reference Work. I love Reference Works.

Okay, if I got determined a bit, I could probably locate the folder Susanna Hanson provided for the class on beaded knitting I took at Stitches a couple of years back, with all the tips and tricks I'd need, making the purchase of the book sheer self-indulgence. I'm justifying it by saying the patterns are pretty and the book covers two other beading techniques - neither of which I need to make this scarf.

Now all I have to do is locate my beading needle (I think it may be in my button box) and start stringing those 270 size 6 glass seed beads called for by the pattern.

Huh. Stringing 270 beads. Maybe I don't want this as much as I thought I did.

I Got This Idea

And it didn't work. Let's state that right up front. But when has that ever stopped me from writing?

After I posted Friday, I sat and looked at the project so far, with those 21 cast-on stitches and 20 picked-up stitches and I began to wonder. There had to be a way to knit this the way I wanted to. Some way that would that keep my diagonal pointing in the right direction and keep the top of my knitting consistent.

Question #1:What if, after I cast on and picked up the stitches from the top of square #8, what if I kept going and picked up the stitches I need to join the new square to square #3?

Answer: Think about it. If I cast on and then pick up stitches across the two adjacent squares, where will my yarn end up? That's right. At the top of square # 3, 20 stitches away from where I need to start knitting.

Question #2: Okay Fine. What if I pick up stitches down square #3 and across square #7 and then cast on. Huh? What about that? Could I then knit on the 41 right-most stitches - that is, the cast on stitches and the picked-up stitches from square #7 -- and knit the last stitch together with the picked-up stitch from square #3?

Answer: Oh honestly. Think about it. All the decreases -- and thus the pattern -- would end up on the wrong side of the work instead of the right side.

I'd like to tell you I figured this all out in my head and therefore held fast to the recognition that Erin really meant me to pick up one leg of the last stitch in each row to join the sides of squares #3 and #8. I'd be lying.

I'll be good now, though. I promise. This whole thinking thing is over-rated.

(Oh, and before anyone asks. Yes, I picked up the wrong leg for the first two rows. No. I don't intend to go back and fix it. I've knit those 8 rows so many times the yarn is starting to turn back into roving. Enough is enough.)

Terminology

It's the po-tay-to po-tah-to of knitting. Pick up and knit versus pick up a stitch. This time I'm feeling confounded. I thought the two phrases we synonymous, at least more so than less. But Erin want me to "pick up and knit" stitches when I'm joining at the cast-on stage, but pick up and knit together when I'm joining row by row, if you know what I mean. Maybe not.

Okay. Here' what I think pick up and knit at the cast on edge looks like. I'm pretty sure this is right.

I'm stuck when it comes to joining this square to the rest of the blanket. I'm supposed to knit to the last stitch of a right side row, then pick up a stitch from the adjacent square and knit the two together. In practical terms, I thought this meant, slip the last stitch to the right hand needle. Insert the left hand needle into the slipped end stitch of the adjacent square and pull up a loop of the working yarn. Slip the stitch on the right hand needle back to the left hand needle. Knit the two together, as in knit two loops of the same yarn. That felt pretty awkward and besides it didn't actually work right. I ripped it out before I thought about taking a picture.

I decided to try something else. I knit to the end of the row. Picked up a loop of the working yarn through a stitch from the adjacent row to join. Turned the work. Knit the two together (on the wrong side). Decidedly less cumbersome, at least for the way I knit. Except I didn't like the result, again. I ended up with these horizontal squash colored bars encroaching on the variegated squares (you can see this at the bottom two rows of the square in production).

I came to the conclusion that, for this pattern, pick up a stitch is not the same as pick up and knit. Now I think maybe I need to slip the last stitch to the right hand needle. Insert the left hand needle into the last stitch of the adjacent square - without pulling the working yarn through. Slip the stitch on the right hand needle back to the left hand needle and knit one leg from the end stitch of the adjacent square with the last stitch from the square still under construction. This is, I'm pretty sure, what the pattern requires, especially considering that the next (wrong-side) row begins with slipping the first stitch. Only I don't like the way it looks, either (that would be the top two rows of the square in production).

I've frogged back to the cast on, and I've got one last trick I want to try. Jane's Booties use a similar technique to join the instep to the sides, admittedly while knitting in the round.

I've threaded a smaller dpn through the loops I need to join and want to see if I pick the stitches this way if I can improve the the finished product. We'll see what things look like once I finish a square. Maybe (she said with a desperately hopeful note in her voice) it will look better then?

You say pomme de terre and I say po-tay-to.

Following the Rules

For this newest baby blanket campaign, the a4A website reminds us, and I quote: "Please avoid white and very light colors that soil more easily. Afghans like all colors. Mix up a bright and cheery palette."

Bright. Cheery. Not light. I'm doing my best here. The Malabrigo project certainly fulfills those criteria. The yarn slides through my fingers and I think, "Ooh. That's a pretty stretch of color." I knit a little farther and think, "Hmm, maybe I should see if there's a semi-solid in this shade. Just in case I do need to widen the border."

Well, for the record, that may not be what I think when knitting the solid; the gold is just a little too reminiscent of squash for me. Autumnal as all get out, I grant you, but still, squash. (I hate squash. Really. Even if it's been prepared properly.)

Still, the knitting is entertaining. I do love me a pattern that decreases to transmogrify itself. I finish off a variegated square and start a squash gold one. I'm engaged with the whole knit-it-all-together-at-once-and-watch-the-afghan-grow experience (as opposed to the whole knit-a-pile-of-squares experience).

Then I step back and actually look at the thing. Cringe. It's still bright, cheery and not light. So how is it that something can follow all the rules and still be so - unappealing? That green border had better work a miracle.

And it may. I can't help noticing that the photograph with the black background isn't nearly as off-putting as the one from my kitchen table. Of course, if it doesn't, it will certainly be a joy to send this one off. No second thoughts at all. The peace of mind that comes with knitting according to Hoyle.

"What if I Just . . ."

I think it's fair to say we have established that them is dangerous words around here. Still, sometimes one just needs to keep busy. Sometimes one is just nervous and excited. Sometimes repeated losses at computer Solitaire are just not enough to keep impatience at bay. Sometimes one has a severe case of that Mr. Roger's song "Let's Think of Something to do While We're Waiting" Syndrome.

Clare has been in England the past two weeks. She is en route home and has, in fact, achieved North America at this point. She has a layover in Ottawa, though, and then has to get into O'Hare Field on a Saturday Afternoon in August. I need to keep busy. (Oh. Ahem. Yes. Full disclosure compels me to admit that, in between all those loser's hands of Solitaire, we've been logging into one of the online flight trackers since her flight left Heathrow).

Before life went haywire, Clare did two things for me. She emptied all the mystery boxes out of Fibber McGee's closet, and she replaced the completely useless (and therefore total waste of money), so-called "student desk" that has occupied space in her room since she was about 8, with a clever college-student construction involving crates from Michael's and a table top from Ikea. The original plan was to send the useless desk off to Salvation Army. Then we looked at my so-called kitchen desk.

Yes, well, and ahem again. Perhaps you can see why her desk just sat in the front hall under all the mystery boxes for lo, these many weeks. Stoically enduring getting banged into whenever the front door was opened. Suffering patiently while I found all sorts of excuses to just not get on with things.

Today, it was rewarded.

Isn't that better?

(Before I go, is this the point where I hope Cathy is still reading and admit that one of the things excavated from the kitchen desk is her baby sock kit? This week. I promise!)

New Campaign

The problem with neglecting the blog is that I forget things. A couple weeks ago now, I got the email from the a4A group. It's time for another baby blanket campaign for CURE Hospital in Kabul. Details are here. New KAL blog is here.

Okay, that's the important part. Here's the fun part. I've mentioned off and on that I joined the Malabrigo Club at Eat.Sleep.Knit (have I mentioned how much I like E.S.K.?). I think it absolutely serendipitous that this month's package was, once again, yarn I would never buy for myself in a million years. In fact, I think I would back away, slowly so as not to encourage an attack, forming a cross with my two index fingers. Why then, you may wonder, is it all wound up and ready to go? Why would I call its arrival serendipitous? (And - what about Naomi?*)

Well. Look at the pattern Erin designed (have I mentioned how much I like Erin's designs?). It decreases steadily, so the colors of the variegated yarn won't pool too much. It's garter stitch, so the squares will actually come out, you know, square. And, because it's all ridges all the time, each color will be broken up further by the subsequent rows. It's assemble as you go, so we won't be seeing that Other Issue I have with mitered squares. All right, so it means I have to use the backward loop cast-on. I despise, not so much the cast-on itself, which is easy and fun, but the first row knitting into it where I have to knit so slowly and carefully and not yank my yarn too hard (tight knitter!) or else end up with all this extra yarn that came from I don't where.

Is this perfect for a4A or what? Bright colors. Green border. Okay, so the finished size is 32 by 36, which is too small. I feel sure even I can adjust that without screwing up. All I have to do is make a wider border. If there isn't enough green I can either use my (anticipated) left-overs from the squares or mine the Stash.

Not only that, it's fast.

I realize I'm giving you more garter stitch, instead of the promised saga of stockinette, but at least it's bent garter stitch.

* I just threw that in for all us old Electric Company fans. The one with Morgan Freeman, Bill Cosby and Rita Moreno.

Ex-Incommunicado

I don't feel at a loss for words very often, yet here I am. So many sketchy posts in a row make me feel incredibly out of step. The equation is supposed to be: knitting+life=posting. There's supposed to be a balance, isn't there? Instead life kind of took over and while knitting has been happening -- I have, after all, come pretty clean on the "Yes, I'm still knitting and yes, I'm still screwing it up" bit (which is, you must admit, rather the theme of this blog) -- I haven't done a very good job of checking in with anything substantive, have I?

Well. Time to re-connect. What would you like, life or knitting? Yeah. I thought so.

I think this latest batch of knitting can be traced back to the Red Shawl. No. I take it back. It goes back to Stitch-A-Palooza 2008, where we saw all those knitters swanking about in shawls made out of fabulous yarns and where my terribly smart and generous knitting sister got me my shawl kit. (Note to self - ask for another copy of pattern to replace copy apparently filed away too thoroughly). I do have shawls to show you; just not that one.

Fenna. I am deeply and irrevocably in love with Fenna and by extension Myrna Stahman.

My infatuation remains staunch and abiding, both for it and Fleece Artist Blue Face Leicester. I think I may need to make another with this color-way. I'll convince myself that it's not greed, it's stash-busting.

The Not Quite Tweedy Ruffle/Not Exactly the Wool Peddler's Shawl is All Better.

Everything is lining up and the knitting is proceeding with a straight spine (the shawl) and a happy face (me). I still haven't decided on what color to make the border/ruffle. I had been thinking brown/neutral (Cascade 220 in Pumpkin Spice comes to mind). Clare suggested pink? I am, shall we say, open to other ideas.

It occurred to me, however, that what I have to show you is, well, not to put too fine a point on it, garter stitch. Can I hope to woo you back with garter stitch? Even with fabulous yarn and knitting idiot stories? I fear not. I've pattern-hunted and stash-tossed and come up with (drum roll and trumpet blast) another shawl: Ilga Leja's Lake in the Woods capelet.

Since I don't live in the Canadian woods, I chose a yarn to march my lake. My lake is moody. It glimmers silver. Glowers thunderhead gray. Gleams deep cadet blue. It doesn't glow in the vivid and lighthearted blue expressed by the colorway the pattern features. My lake is best reflected in this.

Handmaiden Lady Godiva in Stardust, purchased during a love-at-first-sight moment from Eat.Sleep.Knit.

Is this the point where I mention that my other knitting is all stockinette all the time? Maybe not. That will give you hope that I have something else to write about. It would seem word-less-ness, for me, is a transient condition.

So. Didja miss me?

It Should Have Worked

But it didn't. Several times.

Then it went downhill.

Straighten Up and Fly Right

Diane, looking at my poor deformed green shawl,

questioned my statement that the repair would be ugly.

"Really?" she wondered.

"Yes. Really."

Second Shawl Syndrome

Did you notice that I only gave you progress on Fenna up to our departure from Peoria? What, I'm sure you're wondering, did I do for the 3 and a half hours it took us to get home? That, my friends, is a sad story. A testimony to the importance of Myrna Stahman's clever stitch-marker trick. (Can you tell I am completely enamored of my Shawls and Scarves book? The woman is a great unventer. The Elizabeth Zimmerman of shawls.)

First up. The trick itself. She recommends a fine thread. I kind of lazied it and stole some of Marco's sock yarn - it was handy.

See how it anchors the stitch marker in place and keeps it lined up with the yarn overs? Big deal, you may be thinking. You may have noticed that I don't seem to have any problem keeping my yarn-overs in line for the Barn Raising quilt squares. What's so important about attaching a tail to your stitch-marker when you knit a shawl?

Did you ever notice how you can get along just fine doing something until someone points out that it really is, not wrong so much as risky. You may think you like living on the knitting edge, but once you know, once you've been warned, ignore the warning at your peril.

There I was, happily knitting away on my green shawl as we wended our way Chicago-ward. Anticipating showing off all my progress. Idly thinking how amazing it is that different yarns and garter stitch could still be so engaging. Fondly smoothing my knitting out on my lap. And seeing this.

I really haven't even had the heart to repair it. It's going to be ugly. Those are, after all, increases on either side of the crooked spine of my shawl. Three stitches at the top row are going to increase to 5 stitches, then 7, then 9, and so on, and so on, and so on. Insert heavy sigh.

So, is the lesson here a polemic against greed? Unlike socks, mittens and sweater sleeves, is the rule one shawl at a time, madam, one shawl at a time? Or (more likely to my mind) have I stumbled across a corollary to Second Shipwreck Syndrome?

Fenna

Has it really been almost a month? How did that happen? Where have I been? For that matter, what could I possibly have been doing that would take me away from The Blog for this long?

Okay. Well there was the parade. Then there was Peoria, which we missed most of and I never did find a yarn store, although the kids had a couple of nice walks along the river.

There were hawks.

And I've kind of been in a seminar for the past week (where Diane and I have unearthed another knitter!) and it goes on into next week and the week after, so there was preparing for that. A lot of preparing for that. Reams of it. Stacks of it. My dining room table and parts of the floor are missing and I keep losing things. Like Clare's current reading which disappeared Thursday and that I released uncovered today.

But I digress. You want knitting, don't you? I considered having Clare pinch hit, but I think her knitting is not ready for Prime Time and I do have two knitting stories I can tell you. How about one tonight and then let's see if I can get back here at some point tomorrow (before I have to finish prepping for next week) and tell you the second.

When last seen, I was setting myself up for Myrna Stahman's Fenna shawl, yes? Ah, yes (I checked the Blog). When we left for Peoria -- in the dark and into a steady downpour that devolved into a thunderstorm (not conducive to travel knitting, garter-stitch or no garter stitch) -- I had only knit the back neck-band. Note the cleverness of the construction implicit in that statement.

This is a faroese shawl from the top down. After a short provisional cast-on, she has you knit the border that will rest at the back of your neck, pick up those stitches, release the provisional cast-on and then start knitting the body of the shawl. The border stitches of the shawl carry on from that neckband. The first 15 to 20 rows are filled with excitement. Yarn-overs and mirror-image make-1 increases a la Elizabeth Zimmermann while you shape the shoulders. Then everything settles down into lovely swaths of garter stitch.

Lovely, of course, if you have the right yarn. Which the Fleece Artist Blue Face Leicester most decidedly is. Despite a day spent in fruitless searches for a yarn store and having to attend Functions as a Lawyer's Spouse, this is what I had when we left Peoria.

I tell you, nothing like a good minor league baseball game (the home team won) to help you churn through garter stitch. Or is it, nothing like a bout of garter stitch to get you through a minor league baseball game?