Knit Sisters

1. I will not use clichés in my writing, speech, or thinking. Like, for instance, “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

2. I may still use colorful sayings garnered from the Southern branch of our family in my writing, speech, and thinking. Like, for instance, “Uncle Billy was so tight he wouldn’t pay a dime to watch a gnat stretch its ass over an elephant’s head.”

I acknowledge that I may be thrown out of finer establishments and more refined homes for using these colorful sayings.

3. I will cultivate peace between warring nations, peoples, landlords and tenants, dogs and cats, cats and their stepmothers, and all other living creatures.

Much to their chagrin, they were caught being good, and charitable towards one another.

Whaddya think you’re lookin’ at, biped?

4. At some point in 2007, I will finish this sweater, which is so lovely that I can’t imagine why I didn’t complete it earlier.

The delightful Bristow from Knitty.

5. At some point in 2007, I will finish said sweater and this currently extremely unpromising-looking afghan.

6. At some point in 2007, I will finish said sweater, and said unpromising-looking afghan, and make mates for these:

They’re tired of being single, frankly. When the glove joined Match.com, I knew something had to be done.

7. For the first time in my life, I will attempt to design a sweater for myself. I have begun in a perfectly orthodox fashion with this little swatch, proving that I am only foolhardy up to a point.

To save time, and potential public humiliation, take time to check your gauge.

8. I will not buy more Malabrigo. I will not buy more Malabrigo. I will not buy more Malabrigo.

9. I will continue to live my life according to the wisdom of Collette: “You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm.”

10. I will drop a dress size before my wedding in June, but only if I contract tuberculosis.

And finally, in considering the arrival of the New Year, I’m afraid I cannot improve upon what Rainer Maria Rilke wrote: “And now let us welcome the new year, full of things that have never been.”

Happy New Year everyone!

Here at the ranch, we have been thoroughly absorbed in Christmas preparations, so absorbed, in fact, that I missed my scheduled post on Friday and then again yesterday.

But, I am pleased to report that there are now actual wrapped presents under our tree!

                                                     See the felted bag in the midst of the loot?

And the holiday baking is complete!

I have loaded up the cookie boxes and tins for neighbors, relatives, friends, and teachers.  A couple have even been delivered. 

 

Shown here is this year’s standard-issue cookie gift box, for those giftees who live in town.  Out-of-town recipients recieve tins, which are a bit more sturdy and keep the cookies fresher over the journey.

Rob’s brother and family were here yesterday for our Christmas celebration with them, and a good time was had by all.  Although we were all a bit worn out by evening.  Our niece and nephew are six and three, respectively, and we here at the B-D ranch are unused to having younger children about.  They’re lovely children, but also very lively.

Years ago, before the birth of my own dear child, Ellen and I were bemoaning the fact that our family Christmases now seemed a little, shall we say, sedate.  “How come we don’t have pandemonium at Christmas any more?” we asked our mother.  “Well,” she said, “to have pandemonium you’ve got to have pandas.”

So, yesterday we had some little pandas at our house.  And panda-monium reigned.

May you all experience the joy of pandemonium this Christmas season with your own dear pandas!

The Malabrigo “Vaa” hat, knit using the free Ribbed Beanie pattern from Woolly Wormhead, is suitable for wear outdoors on a chilly day, or indoors on practically any day here in New England where we believe in building character, one frigid room at a time!:

Alex makes a fine model…for his own hat. Note how this style covers his ears, a crucial feature in harsh winter weather.

Rated a full five stars out of five by the American Male System of Manly Color Recognition (AMSMCR), the “Vaa” colorway has been deemed acceptable for wear by even the most virile and pugilistic of American males.

It does have kind of a star on top, though… Hey! Hey you! Are you suggesting that a star ain’t manly? Huh? Huh? You wanna step outside? Yeah? Yeah? Well, I don’t hit no man first…

Remarkably, the same hat has won the seal of approval from the Canis Familiaris Board of Sartorial Excellence:

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, “Dear God, why? Why?”

And yet a favorable rating from the Feline Unincorporated Coalition of Fellows (or, as they prefer to be known, FUCOFF) remains elusive:

I hate you guys. I really, really hate you guys.

I too have had some experience with the AMSMCR phenomenon, and I believe it is first cousin to another phenomenon I like to call the “Knitting Interview.”

When our mother was taking library science classes, and afterwards when she was working as a librarian, she told me about a little something that librarians call the “Reference Interview.”  It goes something like this:

Patron:  I saw this cool bug yesterday, and I want to know what kind of bug it is.

Librarian:  What color was it?

Patron:  Black.

Librarian:  Where did you see it?

Patron:  On the ground in front of my house.

Librarian:  Did it have wings?

Patron:  I’m not sure.

Librarian:  How big was it?

Patron:  About half an inch long.

Librarian:  Was it some type of beetle?

Patron:  Yes, I think it might have been.

Librarian:  Well, I think that, based on what you’ve told me, if we look in XYZ Book of Bugs, we might be able to find it.

You see how simple?  And satisfying?  The patron goes home happy, the librarian feels a sense of deep satisfaction with his/her job.

On the other hand, the Knitting Interview goes something like this:

Man:  Could you make me a cardigan?

Knitter:  (very pleased)  Sure!  What color?

Man:  I don’t know.  Something dark.

Knitter:  Like a dark charcoal?  Or maybe dark green?

Man:  Uh, I’m not sure.

Knitter:  What kind of stitch pattern would you like?  Maybe some simple cables?

Man:  No, that’s too fussy-looking.

Knitter:  Do you want a plain yarn, or a tweedy-looking yarn?

Man:  Huh?  Just not itchy, OK?

Knitter:  Do you want it to fit close to the body, or be more loose and casual-looking?

Man:  I don’t know.  What do you think?

Knitter:  Do you want a set-in sleeve or a drop shoulder?

Man:  What does that mean?

Knitter:  V-neck or crewneck?

Man:  Um, I hadn’t thought about that.

Knitter:  Do you want it to hang straight down or have a ribbing that pulls into the body?

Man:  I want it kind of like my favorite fleece jacket, but different.  Can you make it like that?

(Knitter throws up hands in frustration and walks away.)

The chief difference between the Reference Interview and the Knitting Interview is that, after the latter, the interviewer goes away feeling more confused than before.  In the example above, the poor knitter (you understand, of course, that I’m not saying that this is a conversation I might have had with my own mate) wants to please her man, is thrilled that he actually wants her to knit him something, but knows that if she doesn’t get it right he will never, ever wear the sweater that she worked her fingers to the nub making for him.

There are many ways in which the sweater can be wrong, and only a few in which it can be right.  And she doesn’t have much information to be going on with.  It’s a fortunate knitter who is able to navigate this minefield.  I myself have failed more than once.  In fact, at one time I swore that I would never make another sweater for my husband.

But hope springs eternal!  The last sweater I made for Rob turned out well–in other words, he actually wears it.  For the curious, the details are as follows:  dark charcoal tweedy yarn (Jo Sharp Silkroad Tweed), seed stitch, modified drop shoulder, V-neck, fairly close-fitting.

There, perhaps I’ve spared someone else the dreaded “interview.”  If I can help even one poor knitter, I can feel fulfilled.

First off, I want to thank all of you who left such kind and supportive comments on my post from Monday.  After I got to feeling a bit better (on Tuesday), I started to think that it had been a bit self-indulgent of me to post that on the blog, but I can tell you that it really was heartfelt at the time.  However, I certainly don’t feel that way all the time.  There are many, many good days, and there are also many days when I am able to retain my sense of perspective a bit better.  Anyway, thank you all for listening so patiently and responding in such a supportive way.  It really does help me to know that there are people out there who care.

And now, back to fiber!

Ellen and Alex sent me these three gorgeous skeins of Alchemy Haiku for my birthday last Friday.

I am attempting to think of a project that is worthy of their gorgeousness.  Thanks, Ellen and Alex!  (I’ve pulled them out to pet them several times now.)

In addition to baking lots of batches of cookies recently, I’ve also worked on combing my fleeces.  (Combing is a great activity for me when I am unsettled in my mind:  I get to work with fiber, it’s surprisingly physical, and it’s also repetitive in a meditative sort of way.  You have to pay attention, but not too much attention.)

I have a pretty little pile of combed grey Romney, which I hope to take to the wheel some time this week,

and more of the double-coated dark brown fleece.

(The guard hair is on the right in the picture above.)

I just really enjoy combing this dark brown fleece.  There’s a tremendous amount of satisfaction in turning that unruly, messy, dirty stuff into something not only usable, but beautiful.  Hey, maybe it’s not a yarn of transformation (or not yet, anyway), but it’s a transformation nonetheless!

I thought about Monica’s suggestion about dyeing the guard hair, and then I started thinking about plying it with a strand of mohair (both spun fairly fine) and dyeing the finished yarn.  Wouldn’t that be pretty?  You’d get the greyed tone of the guard hair and the shiny jewel tone of the mohair, playing off each other in one yarn.

Hugo, meanwhile, has been occupied with pestering our old and chubby cat, Tortellini.

                                          “I just don’t understand why she doesn’t like me!”

                                  “Maybe if I go around to the other side…”

Hugo, Dog of Transformation.

I have been running around madly today, trying to get ready for Thanksgiving.  Here’s my food list for the holiday, living next to the holiday cookie list on the refrigerator door.

 

Note that pie is a major player in my holiday meal plan.  Also note that I do not intend to cook a turkey this year.  In fact, I never cook a turkey on Thanksgiving.  I always (well, almost always) make lasagne, salad, and bread and then we pig out on pie.  This year I plan on making three pies:  pumpkin, pecan, and apple.  Why, yes, it’s true that there are only three people in my family.  What of it?  (Pay no attention to the mention of carrot cake on the list above.  That’s another matter entirely….)

I’ve begun making preparations for Christmas-cookie-making, as well.  This starts with the traditional pulling out of all the cookie cookbooks in my library, shown here with pecans.

 

There are quite a few.  Some are not even pictured.

Then I make a list of people to whom I intend to give cookies.  Then I make a list of cookies I intend to bake.  (See above.)  Then I think about how many days are left until the day when I need to get these cookies in the mail or give them to neighbors.  Only then do I begin to feel a bit stressed.  But hope springs eternal.  This year I will get it all done!

Why, I’ve already finished one knitted gift!

And am progressing steadily on a second!

 

This is shaping up very nicely–a pretty little cloud of blue fluff.

No worries.

                                       “I really don’t see what all the fuss is about.  A can of tuna should satisfy everyone for the holiday, doncha think?”

I felted the purple and pink tote bag this morning.  Here’s how she turned out:

 

Although I have a front-loading washing machine, and there has been much discussion among knitters I know about felting items in a front-loader, I myself have had no problems at all getting things to felt in my washer.  In fact, even though various instructions you read would have you open the washer from time to time throughout the cycle, I blithely throw everything in (everything being the item to be felted and some towels or rags or something), set the washer on “hot wash, cold rinse,” close the door, push the button, and walk away, only to return when the washer has gone through its complete cycle, including the spin cycle.  I realize that this demonstrates a great deal of faith on my part, but so far it’s worked out fine, and I’ve made a number of different felted things.  (Ask Ellen for a picture of Zeno’s cat bed.)

Here’s a closer view:

 

Oh, and, by the way, I was wrong about the two rows of applied I-cord at the top of this thing.  There were three rows.  Enough said. 

Hugo says:

 

“Um, no offense, Mom, but I don’t really care about your felted bag.  Can’t you take me for a little walk?”

Melinda asked about my 5-pitch combs.  You can read more about them and see pictures here and here.  They are some of my most heavily-used tools.  I really don’t use my hand-cards since I acquired and learned how to use the combs.  Their great beauty is that they can take a dirty, messy fleece (like the one I pictured on Wednesday) and turn it into something beautiful.  It’s really somewhat addictive–seeing what’s going to come out of the combs at the end of the process.

Monica, I do think the guard hair would look great dyed in some jewel-like color.  I hadn’t thought of that–thanks for the suggestion!

I cast on for the felted tote bag Monday night, after posting and while watching Studio 60.  (A good show, by the way.)  Here’s my progress thus far:

 

The nice thing about knitting things that are to be felted is that they grow quickly, since they’re knit at a loose gauge on large needles.  It doesn’t bear thinking about, though, that after the expanse of stockinette, this bag ends with a double row of applied I-cord.  And then you knit separate I-cord handles.  We all know how I feel about I-cord.  We won’t go there again. 

Step away from the knitting needles and no one needs to get hurt. 

I’ve also been combing a new fleece.  It’s a gorgeous brown color, and it’s from a double-coated breed, although I don’t know which breed it is.  It’s also really dirty and has lots of vegetable matter (vm) in it.

 

Here’s a closeup:

 

The great thing about the 5-pitch combs is that they take out all that dirt and vm and all you’re left with is beautiful fiber to spin.

 

I’m pulling out the guard hair (the longer, coarser coat of the two) as a separate roving, or at least as much of it as humanly possible.  Then I pull the shorter undercoat into another roving.  The guard hair roving is on the left in the picture above, with the undercoat on the right.  You can get a little bit of an idea of how different these two fibers are from the photo, but to get a true idea you have to feel them.  The guard hair is so much coarser than the undercoat, it’s amazing that they come from the same fleece.

I don’t have any notion at this point of how I’m going to spin this fiber.  Right now I’m just enjoying the process.

In spite of the fact that the weather in the Boston area makes you feel like you’ve accidentally walked onto the set of Blade Runner, I am pleased to be back home.

I had a wonderful time in Vancouver, Berkeley, and Missouri, but it is nice to be back here Chez Mad Dog once again!

I even have a finished object to show for my time away:

Please simply ignore the hair-don’t I am sporting here. I obviously had a visit from the Hair Fairy earlier in the day. Actually, I also look a little simple in this photo, don’t I? Well, I assure you that I’m smarter than I look here. Which admittedly isn’t saying much.

In my absence, interesting developments had occurred Chez Mad Dog. For instance, my winter Interweave had arrived. Whoo hoo!:

Pictured here with a delightful ceramic doo-hickey that my father-in-law gave me while I was in California. I’m not sure what it is, but I like it very much. Thank you, Jeff!

And, in a completely unprecedented occurrence, Shelley and Zeno were being more or less filial in their comportment toward one another:

And the lion shall lie down with the lamb…

If you’d turn on the heat, fool, we wouldn’t have to sit this close together. Whaddya think this is, July?

Don’t imagine, however, that Zeno has changed one iota since I last saw him. No sirree.

When you die, I’m gonna gnaw off your ears.

He gave me a look when I got home on Sunday night, a look that said, “Oh, you’re back? I had been hoping that you had drowned.”

I’ll never understand why we habour this charmless creature.

We also have new upstairs neighbors, which comes as rather a shock since that apartment has been unoccupied for eighteen months. Why? Take a gander at the “before” pictures of our apartment, extrapolate, and you got yer answer.

I met the primary tenant, whose name is Anya, and she seems like a lovely person, a person furthermore intent upon improving the general appearance of the property. She has already insisted that she will strong-arm cajole Mr. Lee into getting rid of the derelict truck.

Many are the times that I myself have threatened to have the derelict truck towed away and dumped into the Charles River or to dismantle it piece by piece with my bare hands and put its parts out over a period of weeks for the garbage collectors, and yet I find the newly-probable prospect of its demise a strangely melancholy thought.

I’ve grown accustomed to its rusting, hulking presence outside my office window and the way that the cat will sit on its hood for hours meowing at me. I’ve come to admire the way that snow drifts into its cab through a broken window during the winter storms. The way the extra tires in the back are steadily decomposing as the weeks, months, and years pass. The way that upstanding, decent neighbors stop and shake their heads in horror and disbelief at this rotting vehicle that has been in the driveway for a decade.

It’s hard to imagine Chez Mad Dog without its characteristic derelict truck. So much of the romance will be taken from us! It is a derelict truck, yes, but it’s our derelict truck.

Perversely, I am unsettled by Anya’s take-charge attitude about getting rid of my busted-down truck. I mean, who does she think she is?

To just come in here and start talking big about getting rid of a perfectly useless truck that is an eyesore and probably a petrochemical hazard and that is furthermore sinking into the driveway slowly and inexorably?

I mean, really.

But seriously, I was sort of planning to use that truck for storing excess stash. You know, if it came to that. And it will come to that, dear friends. This you know as well as I. What, after all, is a LYS job for if not for mad, exuberant stashing?

Yet clearly, under this new regime, the derelict truck’s days are numbered. The truck we had to push will soon be no more. I will have to think of alternate stash annexes around the house. I will be forced to bid my defunct truck a tearful farewell and enter the sanitized world of people who do not harbour decomposing vehicles on their property.

Rest in peace, Derelict Truck. May we meet again in that great junkyard in the sky.

It’s been quite a week.  Without going into the sordid details, I’ll just say that I’ve learned anew the truth of the saying, “No good deed goes unpunished.”  And now I know this truth anew as well:  “Do me once, shame on you.  Do me twice, shame on me.”  I don’t intend to get done again.

It’s at times like these that I really appreciate my fiber enterprises as a way to disengage from work thoughts, refocus my mind on something constructive and creative, and relax.  I’m the kind of person who needs to actively remind myself that there’s way more to life than work, and working with fiber does that for me.

I got fired up this week about working with some of my naturally-colored fleeces, so I did some combing last night.

 

This is a grey/light brown fleece which I bought about a year and a half ago.  I finally got it all washed this summer, but just began combing it last night.  Isn’t it amazing how different these colors are?  They really did come from the same fleece. 

 

Wool is astounding.  (When I combed these, I took them over to Rob.  “Look at this!”  I said.  “Look how different these colors are!  They’re from the same fleece!”  “Hmmm,” he said.  Yes, it’s true.  I am a fiber dweeb.)

Then I worked on some black Shetland which I also bought a year and a half ago.

 

(It’s hard to take a good picture of this wool, because it really and truly is black.)  I have almost all of this combed, yet I haven’t started spinning it.  It’s such beautiful wool that I want to be sure about what I’m doing with it before I start.

It’s starting to get cold here.  I need my hat, coat, and mittens when I walk Hugo in the morning.  In honor of Ellen’s first foray into stranded knitting, I dug out this UFO that I nearly finished late last spring:

 

A stranded hat from a pattern in 45 Fine and Fanciful Hats.  This is a good example of what I was talking about the other day; to make this hat I dug around in the stash for single balls of wool that were about the same weight, going more by color than anything else.  The dark brown is handspun, naturally-colored wool from a sheep named Cinder.  All the hat needs is some kind of finish on top (in the book she makes little stuffed bobbles for the tops of the hats–pretty nifty) and a good blocking.  Maybe a couple of ends worked in, too. 

These hats are great fun to make, and if you have a good stash they don’t even cost anything.  (Since I already bought all that yarn, now it’s free.  See?)

Have a good weekend, everybody.  The Knit Sisters will return, renewed and refreshed, next week!