A Love Letter To The LYS

I was fortunate to get out of the humidity outside and the crazy young children inside my home this past weekend and collapse in one of the comfy chairs at Yarns Etc. 

There is something about walking in through the swinging glass door.  Every time, I find myself inhaling and exhaling deeply the moment my foot crosses the threshold.  Probably getting a much needed, concentrated dose of wool fumes.  My eyes take in the square footage stocked with cubbies full of many different types of fibers in hundreds, thousands of hues. 

What I like so much about the place is that it is jam packed with potential.  I find myself wondering how many projects could be cast on with all that lovely yarn.  I am an avid reader, and when I was a kid I used to daydream about getting "accidentally" locked in the library overnight.  Lately I find myself daydreaming about such a happy accident happening to me but maybe somewhere a bit more fiber-y. 





Why, I just didn't know what to do, so I just...cast on...a little something.





This time I watched the knitters come and go.  I saw how many of them were as tactile with the yarn as I am.  Going to the yarn store for me is a lot like a kid going to Chuck E Cheez.  It's not just the colors and how they look.  It's touching them.  Giving them a squeeze, and I was pleased to note that I am not the only one who sort of...cuddles...the yarn against her cheek when she finds a really good one.  Seeing what newcomers are in the baskets around the shop.  What new colors have arrived in the good old standby yarns like Plymouth Encore and Cascade 220 and Rowan, oh my, Rowan, among many many others (like Berroco, Malabrigo, Blue Sky, Elsebeth Lavold, and Three Waters Yarn, just to name a few more).   

Some of you have some fierce willpower, folks.  I was impressed by the whopping two knitters who were able to shake off the grip of some gorgeous yarn, declaring they couldn't get it just yet because they already were working on a project.  I tried to be subtle about picking my jaw up off the floor.  A project. 

A project?  Singular????  Like, only one?  Wha?



That was me.  Except without the suit. 


There was plenty of hustle and bustle, too.  You knitters were not letting the warm weather slow you down.  You know it's going to wind down soon.  The crisp winds of autumn will arrive, and your needles are already clicking away on knits for cooler weather.  I watched two knitters laugh when they realized that they each had fallen in love with the same pattern, but will be knitting it in two different yarns. 

In other knitting news, I'm still trucking away on my Twenty Ten Cardigan.  I am still loving it, but I feel like I need a miner's headlamp in order to properly be able to see what I'm doing while I'm knitting it in the black Cascade Yarns Eco + wool.  Moss stitch is really pretty simple, but with the black yarn, I've done a double take or two, since the purl and knit stitches look awfully similar in it.  Maybe next time in yellow?

As for my Elizabeth Zimmermann sweater, I had been toying with a V-neck and three quarter sleeves.  I have decided to keep the three quarter sleeves idea, but I can't wrap my mind around how to do the decreases for the shoulders, make the V-neck while on a circular needle, and keep the whole thing from gapping ever so unattractively or, conversely, having an accidental V-neck that would get me arrested for public indecency.  Instead, I'm going for raglan decreases and a crew neck from The Opinionated Knitter.  I'm not quite done, but the sleeves are attached and the decreases have been started.




Just imagine this all joined up and slightly larger and you have it. 

 I think I'll finish it up today (knock on wood, throw salt, and burn ceremonial sage as a nod to the capricious whims of the Knitting Muses).  And after that?  Who knows!  Perhaps another trip to the yarn store?

Veni, Vidi, Steeki.

My friends, I hope you had a wonderful holiday.  Are you still recuperating?  I feel like I am!

We had a blast, ate dinner at my sister's house, and it was my parents first Christmas in Chapel Hill, and my daughter's first Christmas, too.  A couple of very nice firsts. 

Another first?  A knitting first for me? 

I steeked.

Having a moment of cold feet here....

Seriously! 

Those knitting writers weren't kidding when they talked about having a stiff one or lying down after cutting your knitting.  I didn't exactly have a lie down, but I definitely experienced an adrenaline buzz akin to how you feel directly after riding a roller coaster.  I may have terminal dorkiness, since I would get that systemically affected by yarn. 

It was really nice to steek for the first time at Yarns Etc.  There were several knitters sitting there, it felt somewhat like group therapy.  "We're all going to get through this together, Erin."  "Deep breaths, honey, almost there."  But you know what?  The cut knitting behaved exactly as I'd been promised it would.  It didn't ravel, thanks to some hand stitching I'd done around the basting/cutting line.  The whole thing did not frog itself, and I ended up with a really pretty nice sweater (if I do say so myself).



Elizabeth Zimmermann's Ski Pattern Sampler Sweater.  The wool is Lopi.  My husband is a lucky man.

While I was at the yarn store, I noticed many pretty items that weren't necessarily yarn, but were great when used in conjunction with yarn and knitting (or crocheting).  Have you seen the great selection of buttons? 

Or the ribbons?  Ribbon can look so beautiful laced through evenly spaced holes in a knit, along the hem, at the waist, even at the wrists or laced through a set of arm warmers, perhaps, reminiscent of the lacing on old-time clothing?



These gorgeous colors on the silk ribbon look especially fine.

Sometimes a little something extra can just bring out a hand knit, take it to the next level, as it were. 
And sometimes the something extra is just a gorgeous little runner like this:

Or you could try something like this fantastically unique yarn here:



This is made by Prism, and I believe the yarn is called "Stuff". 





And I fell completely in love with these adorable little measuring tapes. 



Lookit!  A ducky!

I saw a few nice husbands walk into the store back on Thursday, asking for yarn for their spouses for Christmas.  If you received such a gift, lucky you (I made sure my present was yarn!  Lucky me!), and you can come on in to get the little extras you need to make your hand knit shine.  


Sweatah Weathah

I hope you all had a wonderful Halloween.  My son went as an airplane, which is different than any other day of the year, when he is an airplane.  If I were Super Mom (or perhaps well-rested) I would have remembered to take a picture of him, but alas, I forgot.

We also have had the funk.  The nose-swiping, circus-seal-impersonating funk.  Both the children and I have it, and my husband is somehow immune.  That's probably a good thing,  because we can't handle a man-cold around here.  We still have PTSD from the last one in July.  Violet was up quite a bit last night, gritching about her stuffy nose.  It's really hard to reason with a baby at 4 am, by the way. 

I have been knitting, quite a fair bit, too.  I find that I really go to town on something simple when real life is whupping my butt.  That sweater I was knitting a couple of weeks ago?  It didn't really work out, so I did a mercy killing and started something else.

This is my lovely assistant Violet showing the almost-completed body and the almost-completed sleeve of another Elizabeth Zimmermann pattern, the yoke patterned sweater (Cascade 220 in Denim Heather).  I swear I do knit other things that aren't EZ, I promise.  I'm just...going through a phase.  Maybe I need to branch out.   But right now the endless rows of stockinette are very soothing. 

Here is another project I've been working on.  This is the Landscape Shawl by Evelyn Clark (of Swallowtail Shawl fame).  I've knit this before, and I'm making this for someone for Christmas...which I found out is only 53 days away.  Gulp.  Please don't smack me the next time you see me.  I'm just telling the truth here, folks. 

Anyhoo, this shawl is made from the wonderful, cushy, bouncy Elsebeth Lavold Merino Lace, but in my humble opinion, it is rather thicker than lace.  Maybe more like a fingering weight.  What's nice about the shawl pattern is that it has instructions for different weights of yarn, from lace all the way to worsted.  Each section/chevron of the shawl is knit in garter, seed stitch, stockinette, moss stitch, or reverse stockinette, and it has a nice picot edging along the sides.  What is also very nice about the pattern is that I can actually knit it.  I am missing that part of my DNA that allows other competent knitters to make lace.  I couldn't knit lace if you held a gun to my head, or a flame to my stash.  I cannot even knit the super-popular Swallowtail Lace Shawl that everyone and their blind, three-legged dog can knit.  I've tried three times, and ended up saying things that blistered paint. 

I am also reaching into the mists of time, sifting through the stash for another goody that needs to be finished. 



It's Elizabeth Zimmermann again (sorry, folks, I'm going through a phase), the Ski Sampler Sweater.  My husband has been waiting for this albatross for about three years now, and this year (knock on wood) it's gonna happen.  I am knitting this up in fantastically rustic Icelandic Lopi.  My husband loves that sort of thing.  In fact, as I'm knitting along, sometimes I come to a bit of a twig still in the yarn and you know what?  I just keep it in there and knit it into the sweater too.  He loves scratchy clothing, which strikes me as bizarre to say the least, but at least I'm doing my part to make sure he is itchy-scratchy all over.  My husband is...well, that's another post for another day.  I'll just say he's hard to knit for.  So is my son, come to think of it. 

I'm almost done with the body of this sweater, and then comes the sleeves and then....DUM DUM DUM...I shall be steeking.  That's right, cutting my knitting all up.  Making armholes.  I've never done it before--have you?  I find it makes me nervous that in the books I've read about knitting, whenever steeking comes up, the author invariably recommends you either have a drink afterward, or lie down in a dark room.  Sheesh. 

Process Versus Product

Where do you fall?  Are you about the destination, or the journey? 

I have come to the conclusion, slowly, that I am a process knitter.  That is the only sane and logical way I can explain how many dang unfinished objects I have.  I must reeeeealllly like the process.  Yup.  That's why I have so much stuff on the needles and what feels like only 2 finished projects to my name, and I have been knitting for almost four years now. 

I know I've finished more than two things...like, maybe four things.  But still, if I finished everything in my closet and project bag...s....  well, I would have a sizable pile of handknits.  How can you tell which category you fall into?  Here are some probing questions.  A word of caution beforehand, however.  Do not ask yourself these questions if you are A) uncomfortable with facing the truth, B) uncomfortable with the size of your yarn stash, C) operating heavy machinery.  Drowsiness may occur. 

Do you have many unfinished objects in your stash?  More than two? 

Do you find yourself making up reasons why you must cast on another project?

Do you have little or no problem "shelving" a current project for finishing at a later date?

Are you bothered when you cast on for another project when you "should" be finishing your current one?

Are you only working on one thing at a time?

Do you buy yarn with no clear project in mind, but simply because of sheer desire for it? 

Are you running out of places to put your unfinished projects?

I find I am unconcerned with finishing things anymore.  I mean, I might finish a sweater, which would be no small thing, considering, but the risks involved in blocking it and sewing it up!!  I mean, people, it might not fit!!  One sleeve may be two inches longer than the other.  If I don't finish it, and just knit here and there, on into eternity, I have this lovely sense of heading towards a finish line without the bone crushing reality of making something that won't fit a humanoid, but perhaps a giraffe.  My self-esteem just can't handle something awful of that magnitude.  Miles of yarn and months of hard work leading up to...the desire to swear loudly and awfully for a full 48 hours straight. 

I remember (vividly, still) one of my first finished projects.  I knit a nightgown.  No, really.  Guys, please stop laughing.  I know...a nightgown???   Really?  But yeah, a nightgown.  It was very gorgeous; it was in Mason-Dixon Knitting (I love those ladies), and it was knit in Louet Sportweight linen.  At the store, I decided to swap out the yarn for Knit One Crochet Two Ty-Dye.  In worsted weight.  And...being the newbie that I was, I sort of scrapped the basic tenets of gauge.  I set to work with the needles recommended in the pattern, but not the yarn.  I knit.  I knit some more.  I knit for two months, monogamously, on this.  Vine Lace patterned hem....waist shaping...seed stitch top.  Then I knit the front, all the same, but add in bust line shaping, etc. etc. etc.  Finally I was ready to block and sew them up.  I had been dealing with some doubts since I was working with something that was giving me wavy ty-dyed pink and purple horizontal stripes that would make a twig look chunky, but I kept telling myself it was going to be great.  Oh, and it was.  A great disaster, right up there with Krakatoa.  It was sooooo big.  I mean huge.  It was so wide that it looked like a hair scrunchie for an Ent stuck in the 80s.  It would have made a smashing tractor tire cozy.  I would have a picture of it put up here, except the picture, along with the knit, has mysteriously disappeared....  That sucker hit the frog pond with enough velocity that people in France had their hair blown back.  I believe that may have been the moment when I was profoundly, psychologically placed firmly in the process knitter column. 

That being said (boy, wasn't that a lot of rationalization for this next sentence?), here is a new project I have started:

This is Cascade 220 in Denim Heather and Merlot Heather.  I'm playing with fire, trying to design a sweater from a pattern book, like this one:

Doing a swatch (I can be taught), and going for it.  I am not sure what to do with the neck, the sleeves, and whether weeping will be involved, but I'm going to try anyway.  All the Elizabeth Zimmermann I've been reading lately has me puffed up like a Scotsman from "Braveheart" to be a fearless knitter rather than a blind follower. 

Stay tuned....



Six (Or More) Degrees of Separation

I call my mother every day, pretty much, just to keep up with all the exciting things that aren't really happening for either of us.  We're not dashing people, constantly on the go, having parties on a whim, and  up until today, I felt pretty reassured that I knew everything there was to know about my mom.  But yesterday, I was in for quite a shock.

I found out that my mom had knit once.  One project.  And finished it.  Shocker #1.  I had not known my mother had knit anything.  She said it was a scarf, and her tension was so tight that it was almost impossible to move the stitches on the needles.  I totally sympathized with her on that one.  When I first learned to knit, I made stockinette stitch resemble Kevlar.  She carried it to the movies to knit on it before the show would begin, and finished it in time for Valentine's Day, or their anniversary, she couldn't recall which.  She never picked up needles again, but I was impressed.  She knit a scarf.  Just one.  Did not feel the wooly fingers of addiction grab her in the least.  But...she did finish it.  She has a waaaay better track record (percentage-wise) at finishing stuff than I do.  She bats .1000 on that one. 

I had to laugh to myself when I asked her whatever became of it.  I presumed that it must have been lost or abandoned or thrown out years ago.  "Oh, it's still around here somewhere," she said.  My parents just moved to North Carolina from out of state this past June, and have moved six times since I was born, and this scarf was knit over a decade beforehand.  Even a non-habitual knitter, having knit ONE OBJECT (and finished it--dang!), has the presence of mind to know that a handknit is something to hold on to.  Hey, are you still a non-knitter if you have actually knit something?  Discuss....

Then she casually mentions how she had learned to knit whilst watching a "show on PBS" and, I swear, my skin prickled.  My ears perked up.  My hair stood at attention.  "Um, mom," I said, "was it 'The Knitting Workshop'?" 

"It was so long ago, honey," she said, "before we had Lynda [my oldest sister], and--"

"Did she have long gray hair pulled back in a bun?"  I blurted out.  I was rooted there, just gripped.

"Well, yes, and she had an English accent and was very funny about how people didn't have to knit so tightly, unless they wanted to," my mom said.

"HOLY COW THAT WAS ELIZABETH ZIMMERMANN, MOM!!!!!  YOU SAW ELIZABETH ZIMMERMANN ON 'THE KNITTING WORKSHOP' WHEN IT ORIGINALLY AIRED!!!!"

Enter big fat SHOCKER #2.

You may be sitting there, reading this (hey, how're you doin', by the way?), and going, "yeah, so?" or something like that.  But, I swear, this was the equivalent of finding out your mom hung out with...oh, I dunno...Mick Jagger.  It's like that time my sister Lauren sat down in the food court at the mall and realized she was sitting across the aisle from Andrew Dice Clay.  Well, that's not exactly a moment you would want to brag about, perhaps.  It's that buzz you get from realizing you know someone who knows someone who actually rode in an elevator with Benecio Del Toro.  I do know someone who...um, yeah, the Benecio thing.  Cool, huh?

I told my husband last night, and I got all wild-eyed and overly excited all over again.  His counter-story included someone he knew who rode in an elevator with Elvis Costello AND Joan Jett.  But neither of them are knitters.  Are they?  I googled it, just to see.  Can't say I'm not doing research here, folks. 

Perhaps this conversation seemed such a bombshell because Elizabeth Zimmermann has been on my mind lately.  Her newest book,

Knit One Knit All,

published posthumously, recently arrived at my house, and I've been devouring the beautiful designs in it.  I wanted to write about EZ, but what in the world could I say that hasn't already been said, and said much better than I ever could put it?  My mother holds Julia Child in the same esteem that I hold Elizabeth Zimmermann. 

I still qualify as a "blind follower", as she would put it, but I have high hopes that one day, thanks entirely to her "unventing" things, and her EPS percentages for making your own custom-fitted knits, I will be a fearless knitter.