No promises

Mom's wheel, originally uploaded by bookscatsyarn.

But this is what I came home with from my mother's house over Labor Day weekend. It's her old Ashford. I'm really excited!

What is up with that?

I posted this on my Twitter, but I'll pose the question here, too, because it baffles me.

  

In the past 24 hours, I've seen two knitters publicly berate other knitters for not having a life.

What gives, people? 

Another Reason for Second Sock Syndrome

The scene: Maryland Sheep and Wool. The Tess booth gleams in the sunlight and I can't resist. It's hot, and we're all sweaty and dirty. The booth is crowded, and Tess herself (the owner's daughter) is shockingly surly for someone in a retail position. I can't stay away. I get separated from my group. Where's Anna? someone asks. Oh, she's back in the Tess booth. Again. Steven remarks that these colors are really girly. And then I see this:

I love it. I have to have it.

Three months later, when I'm packing for my trip, I see this again and wind it up, and then toss it in my bag. On a windy day, when it's too windy for the wind-phobic Preschooler to hike (seriously, ask him how he feels about wind), I start a pair of Sunday Swing Socks.

And they are perfect. The colors align to spiral gently down the leg. This sock has no ugly pooling, no blotches of color. I don't have to think about strategies to make this beautiful skein of yarn continue to be beautiful in knitted form. Even in the gusset, where cuff-down socks tend to look their worst, this looks great.

How can I possibly risk making another?

Things I Learned On the Way Home

1. Not all Holiday Inn Express locations are created the same. Enough said about that, other than does anyone have a reliable but nice chain that they use while traveling?
2.  A preschooler can watch Monsters, Inc. once, twice, even three times a day and not get tired of it. 
3. I don't think I like this Zauberball sock yarn. I'm totally copying the Yarn Harlot because I'd tucked a skein of Zauberball Crazy in my travel knitting bag and thought "why not?" But the yarn, although interestingly plied and sturdy, is way too thin and rough. I guess I really do like my sock yarn with some "squoosh" factor. 
4. It's good to be home.

Traveling Sock

This plain sock -- Miss Babs in Jingle Jingle B -- has been tucked in my bag and worked on in idle moments here in Wyoming.

Here it is on the road in southwestern Wyoming:

Here it is poolside at the condo complex (and really, I am watching my child, really):

Here we are at the Rockefeller Preserve (seriously, it's good to be a Rockefeller. This was their private land until 2000):

And finally, at Inspiration Point, above Jenny Lake:

Wyoming Tradition

Wyoming Tradition, originally uploaded by bookscatsyarn.

Every year, we take a photo at the entrance to Jenny Lake. It's not even the most scenic view here, but it marks the beginning of our vacation. We didn't come in 2008, but otherwise the growth of our family is documented from our honeymoon in 2005 to now.

We're Here

So we’ve been coming out to Jackson Hole, Wyoming for the Grand Teton Summer Music Festival almost every year since our honeymoon (by the way, we’re celebrating five years of marriage on Friday!).  Jackson is located in the northwestern corner of Wyoming, south of the Yellowstone Plateau, and surrounded by the Grand Teton National Park and several National Forests. It’s kind of hard to get to. The first year we flew to Denver and drove up, ending up going over non-existent roads in the dark. The second year we flew (did you know that the Jackson Airport is the only commercial airport to operate in a national park?) with newborn Henry. The third year, I flew with barely a toddler Henry while my husband drove our car. Then we skipped a year, and last year, we all drove, breaking the trip with a visit with family in Oklahoma.

This year, my husband declared we were going to make the trip in three days, not four, which would require ten hours of driving per day. Okay. I can get a lot of knitting done. The Preschooler is generally pretty agreeable in the car, as long as he has his dvd player. We should have been fine.

That is, until we blew out a tire somewhere in Iowa. Fifty miles east of Omaha, we heard a dreadful noise. Thankfully, my husband was able to pull halfway up an exit ramp before the tire completely gave way. It was still a dangerous situation as he struggled to put on the spare tire while avoiding exiting trucks, but it beat the alternative. I was able to walk Henry up to a truck stop – because of course at the moment of crisis, he pipes up “I have to go potty!” – while my husband worked on the tire. He put the spare on…and then the car wouldn’t start. The car repair place by the truck stop did not have the tire we needed and moreover, didn’t have time to come out and jump our car.  Mercifully, the car insurance has roadside assistance and within half an hour, someone had come to jump the car and locate a tire.

Three hours and a pretty scary tire shop later, we were back on the road.  I feel lucky; it could have been so much worse, but we still had to drive for another six hours to make our deadline. We made it through severe lightning storms in the plains of Nebraska before we reached our hotel in Ogallala at midnight. Henry slept a little in the car but woke up crying and distressed to still be in his car seat. My husband was bummed out that he didn’t get his Runza, apparently a staple of his Nebraska childhood.

And to top it all off – since this is a knitting blog after all – this year is the year that I get carsick if I knit. Carsick! I completed Kelli’s Sunday Swing Socks and listlessly did a few rounds on a plain sock, but this was not to be the year I speed through projects as we drive through the Midwest. Co-workers, I cede the Summer of Socks and Lace to you.

Has anyone seen my sock mojo?

Socks used to be a pretty reliable project for me. I could cast on 64 stitches on a size 1.5 Addi and away I would go. But this summer, I've had a devil of a time with socks.

It started with the Yarn Harlot's Lenore, which calls for Socks that Rock Lightweight, casting on 60 stitches on a size 1.5 needle. If anything, I thought they'd be too tight. But no! Too loose! I ended up going down to a 1.

Then, my March Rockin' Sock Club Socks, Slip Jig. Socks that Rock Mediumweight on a size 1.5. Okay. My gauge has been loose lately, so this should work. No. The sock was huge and the fabric stiff enough to walk away on its own. So I went back to my usual Mediumweight needle, an Addi 2 (2.75 mm) and cast on for the smallest size. I can barely get it over my ankle, but it worked.

Next project, Cottys, by the same designer of Slip Jig. Same process: Mediumweight (the color here is Valenscummy, which I love), 60 stitches on size 1.5, as the pattern calls for, way too big. Finally cast on 48 stitches on a 2, but I'm not happy.

And it's not just Socks that Rock or Sock Club patterns. Everything is turning out too loose or too big. I don't know what has changed. Here, let's look at my finished Kai Meis, in Dream in Color Smooshy in Lipstick Lava, from Cookie A's Sock Innovation. It took a year to finish the first sock; a week to finish the second. But they turned out fine!

Campaign of Intimidation

So it's Summer of Socks and Lace again over at the store. Last year I got kind of....competitive and ended up wiping the floor with my co-workers, one of whom got pregnant and the movement of her knitting needles made her sick, so that wasn't exactly fair. This year, I said I wasn't going to be that way. But I am. I persuaded Martha and Kelli to make a new category called "Doublethreat" so I wouldn't have to choose between socks and working on my 10 Shawls in 2010. In my defense, this has proven to be a really popular category, and I think everyone is really enjoying it. Then I vowed that I was going to WIN, and in a really twisted move, my two main competitors, Steven and Yvonne, and I started making things for each other. Steven made me a new February Lady Sweater. I made my new go-to pattern, a Traveling Woman, for Yvonne, out of Pagewood Farm Alyeska:

What else have I finished that I haven't shown?

A slightly modified Helena for a dear grad school friend's new baby:

After many, many, many false starts and a nasty tangle, my March 2010 Rockin' Sock Club Slip Jigs:

In the Land of Oz shawl, out of Malabrigo Sock in Rayon Vert. I'm calling it my "Wine and Thunderstorms" Shawl because I made it mostly during a spate of bad thunderstorms around here recently. It's also so simple that you can drink a lot of wine and watch chick flicks while you knit it.

And finally, these baby booties out of leftover STR Garden Daze from last year's sock club. I keep telling myself I made them to test out the Signature Needles DPNs that I got at Maryland Sheep and Wool, but really, I have to confess, I am building up a little hope chest. It's been over two years since my miscarriage, and I'm hoping for something good soon.

 

The birthday hat lives!

The birthday hat: year four,
originally uploaded by bookscatsyarn.

I made this hat for Henry for his first birthday. It was a little large at the time, but little did I realize just how very large it has turned out to be. The hat is the Wooderson of knitwear: Henry keeps getting older and the hat stays the same size. All right.

Why I Won't Win Summer of Socks and Lace

I was feeling all kinds of smug about finishing these Lenore Socks in Socks that Rock Lightweight in ST-2.

After several false starts, I was able to get some momentum going on my March Rockin' Sock Club Slip Jigs. Then this happened:

Bowls

Like much of the knitting world, I've jumped on the yarn bowl bandwagon. You'd think that as the daughter of two potters, I would have been all over this a long time ago. But yet, although my mother and I have sketched out several prototypes, we've never gotten around to making one. The bowls I've been using aren't made by my mother nor are they Jennie the Potter models; they are a small tea bowl from Pottery Barn and a handmade bowl that The Preschooler chose at the Empty Bowls Chili Cookoff at the Braddock Library.

Imagine my surprise when I left the room for a minute and came back to this. Peek-a-boo!

Happy Mother's Day

This is what I made my mother: a Shetland Triangle in Madeline Tosh Sock in Oxblood.

 This is what The Preschooler made for me. I love the "mixed-media" piece.

Sheep and Wool Haul

From left to right, first row: Tess Laceweight, Three Irish Girls Glenhaven, Tess SuperSock and Baby, Miss Babs Sport.

Second Row: More Miss Babs Sport, two Socks that Rock Mediumweight, Miss Babs Sock.

Third Row: More Miss Babs Sock, Autumn House Bamboo Tweed (this is my precious), Miss Babs Tweed, Brooks Farm Solana (bought specifically for a sweater for The Preschooler).

Sheep and Wool

So I have, like, degrees in Women's Studies. Yet I think they will be revoked because I wore this to Maryland Sheep and Wool this year, as part of Steven's groupies.

It was ridiculously hot this year, to the point where I was standing in line for The Fold at not even 9:00 am, and I realized that it was just going to be too hot and I was not going to make it through the day. Unfortunately, that's come to be just part of life with a semi-chronic (according to the headache doctor) pain condition, and some of us were back at the hotel by 2:00 for a nap.

Fortunately, it did cool off enough for me to wear my completed Tappan Zee Cardigan to the after-party.

(Oof, I should have sucked my stomach in more!)

I got a terrific haul this year, and I'm so excited to cast on because Spring Cleaning is OVER! I finished four pairs of socks, a child's vest, and the Tappan Zee. It's so time to cast on like a crazed weasel again.

I Drool Black and Gold

Dear Elizabeth Zimmermann, forgive me, for I have cast on.

It had been fifteen days since my last cast-on.

But a baby has been born, and he's so cute. I just want to knit him ponies and such, but I figured some black and gold bibs are a good beginning for a Pittsburgh Baby.  These are based on the basic Mason-Dixon Baby Bib O' Love. The striped bib uses the slip stitch pattern from the Baby Genius Burp Cloth. The color block bib uses the same log-cabin-ing idea found on the Purl Bee blog's Log Cabin Washcloths. I restrained myself and knit only two.

Singing My Leg Song

Last fall I cast on for my first ever toe-up sock, the Discovery Sock from Cat Bordhi's Personal Footprints for Insouciant Sock Knitters. The method is intriguing: in a nutshell, to make a sock for yourself, you make a cardboard tracing of your foot. The measurements and stitch counts you record on that foot serve as your pattern after after for that particular yarn and needle size. Essentially, you knit a tube for your foot and cut into the ankle line to create an "afterthought leg."

I cast on my toe stitches and increased to the number that fit over my toenails comfortably.

Then I tried on the sock as I knit and increased sole stitches whenever the sock felt tight. When I got to the ankle bone -- or the leg line as Cat Bordhi calls it -- I threaded two lifelines in and started on the heel decreases.

Then OMG, with moral support from Yvonne, we put the lifeline stitches back on the circular needles and cut and unraveled the stitches in between, leaving an opening for the leg.

It fits!

Halfway through...and feeling twitchy

I stopped casting on sometime in the last week of March, with a quick break to cast on one final Malabrigo March project on March 31, the Little Girl's Shrug from Knitting Pure and Simple. I had a good portion of a skein of Pollen left over after Frankie's "Lellow Hat," and I used some Lettuce for the trim.

I finished my second pair of Ampersands, which is such a simple and fun pattern that it almost felt like cheating on the "cleaning" aspect of this project. These are in Socks that Rock Mediumweight in Vine Maple.

However, remember in the Little House books, when Ma and Pa took Mary to the School for the Blind and Laura and Carrie decided to do the fall cleaning? And they made it look so much worse before it got any better? Going through knitting projects is kind of like that. I dug out my "Discovery Socks" from the new-ish Cat Bordhi book. I threaded my lifelines and am about to do the heel decreases and then I have to CUT MY KNITTING. If that isn't the equivalent of Grace spilling the stove blacking, I don't know what is. 

Just because I'm not acting like a crazed weasel...

...doesn't mean I'm not thinking like one. I may not be casting on, but I sure do have the itch to start new projects.

Yesterday my mother came in to Natural Stitches with The Preschooler in tow. (And to those who were in the store, I'm so sorry if you weren't amused by Steven and a small child playing KABOOM! in the chunky yarn section. They are apparently BFFs now.) She'd asked me last year for a small black shawl, but we both agreed that we didn't want to do it in a "flat" solid black color. We'd originally planned on Socks that Rock Rauen, but when she saw my finished Hederas, she thought the color was too brown. After much consultation, she chose Madeline Tosh Sock in Oxblood for a small Shetland Triangle. It's a Mother's Day present. Surely I can cast on for a Mother's Day present?

A few weeks ago, my mother, mother-in-law, and I went to Phipps Conservatory to see the Spring Flower Show, where I fell in love with this color.

I've been thinking about making a "Wandering the Moors" shawl in this gorgeous Road to China Light for awhile, and when we got in this new pink colorway, it seemed like the perfect match to the flowers that had been dancing in my mind. The sheen and halo of the fiber seems appropriately textured while the dusty pink acts as a homage to the early Victorian sensibilities of Jane Eyre. But I'm not going to cast on.  Nope.

Then just this week, we got this new color of Dream in Color Smooshy in. I have pink on the brain. But no, I won't cast on. 

This is what happens when you don't cast on like a crazed weasel

Projects actually get finished. Note my use of the passive voice, like I have no control over the matter. But seriously, I have been hauling out some long-forgotten projects and getting them done and out of the way.

Thuja-eque Socks, in KnitPicks Risata.

• Start Date: May 2008
• Reason project was cast aside in disdain: Let's face it, the pattern is boring. I started them on KnitPicks Harmony circulars, which I just don't like anymore because they're too slow. They're Man Socks, so the foot is mind-numbingly long. 
• Solution: Switch to Addi Circulars to speed up the project, despite risk of changing gauge. 

Hedera Socks, in Socks that Rock Mediumweight, Rauen colorway

• Start Date: September 2008
• Reason project was cast aside: Lace pattern in black yarn. Uncharted lace pattern in black yarn (for some reason, I can't do lace without a chart. I just can't make my mind work that way). Thicker mediumweight Socks that Rock on size 1 needles; these socks could walk away on their own. 
• Solution: Just get on with it, already.

In other news, I am almost finished with the yoke on my Tappanzee Cardigan, which I hope to wear to Maryland Sheep and Wool this year. I have also applied the "just get on with it" approach to my Baby Moderne blanket, done in Dream in Color Smooshy. I finished two of the larger blocks and started the intarsia -- a completely new technique for me, so I am still Expanding My Comfort Zone. I will finish it. I will.

When I started this "Spring Cleaning" project, I had eleven WIPs on my Ravelry projects page. I now have eight!

Happy Easter!

Henry did some modeling of finished projects for me today.

Kirsten Kapur's Pembroke Vest, from the original issue of Petite Purls. The vest is made from Brown Sheep Superwash.

Henry also offered to model my Olatz Shawl, made for Malabrigo March in Malabrigo Worsted in Sealing Wax.

However, I think my mother did a more accurate modeling job.

Spring Cleaning

I posted a little about this on the store blog, but I am taking April to finish projects. As of today, I have eleven WIPs in my Ravelry projects and um, a lot of projects in hibernation.  My two main goals are to finish the Tappan Zee Cardigan I started the other day from the new Knitty in time to wear to Maryland Sheep and Wool and to finish the Baby Moderne blanket I started over a year ago. How many projects can I finish before MDSW?

Malabrigo But Not March: Textured Shawl

Yarn trends may cycle in and out, but at least for 2010, I'm turning back to my old friend Malabrigo. I mentioned during snOMGpgh that Malabrigo Silky Merino was turning into my drug of choice: so soft, so shiny, such depth of color, and such great value for the price.  With just two skeins of Silky Merino in Indicieta, I made a version of Orlane's Textured Shawl. I used the garter tab set-up for Feministy's Yvaine, then knit sixteen rows of stockinette, sixteen rows of the texture pattern, eight rows of stockinette, four rows of garter stitch, eight rows of stockinette, another sixteen rows of the texture pattern, eight rows of stockinette, four of the texture pattern again, and then garter stitch for four rows (or, in other words, until I ran out of yarn and the gold medal hockey game was over).  The finished project is now on display at Natural Stitches for the Show Us Your Shawl Extravaganza this weekend.

A Monogamous (and Ruffle-y) Malabrigo March

An odd thing has happened. In the past few weeks, I've become, mostly, a monogamous knitter. It started with the Knitting Olympics, but I have been pleasantly surprised by how I've been able to stay on track with projects. Yet truth be told, the two projects I've completed so far for Malabrigo March have been done because I hesitated to put them down, fearful that I might not be able to bring myself to pick them back up again. These projects feature an awful lot of stockinette, and an awful lot of, well, stitches.

Laura Chau's Just Enough Ruffles, in Malabrigo Worsted in Velvet Grapes:

Citron from Knitty, in Malabrigo Sock in Boticelli Red:

Twelve Years Ago Today...

My grandmother passed away, as she lost her second battle with cancer. She would have been ninety years old this year. My grandmother is the woman who taught me to knit when I was seven years old, so with every stitch I make, I hope, in my own way, that I honor her. She was a wonderfully accomplished knitter and had a gift with intarsia in particular. She knit for me, and I hope that when I knit for my son, I pass down some of her love to him.