Deep freeze

Last week and the week before we were clutched by the Polar Vortex and it was totally f-ing cold.  The only open water hereabouts was in front of the house. Hence the goose party that went on for days. Like any respectable orgy, it was noisy, filthy, and crowded. Then it warmed up, the ice melted, and everyone left.

Meanwhile, chill-averse, house-bound moi was knitting away, fashioning a sock-monkey cap for grandson Max. The pattern, from the recently-reviewed 60 Quick Knits from America's Yarn Shops (Sixth & Spring, 2013), definitely had problems. (A word to the wise.) So I had to wing it in the dicey places, and everything turned out fine. If you're not an experienced knitter and are yearning to knit a sock-monkey hat for someone special, I'd suggest trying a different pattern. There are a bunch on Ravelry.

So Max will get his cap, modeled here by Ted, and maybe if the temps out there in LA get below 65F, he will actually wear it. The sizing looks to be about right for a child between six to eighteen months.

Friend and FO

The wheels of change grind slowly, but gradually I'm reaching the bottom of the UFO pile. This latest FO, called the "Petite Popover" and modeled by Ted and the owls, is one of those delicious free patterns to which I'm heavily addicted. It came to me via the Purl Bee newsletter from Purl Soho, and if you don't know about the amazing stuff this shop sells, I invite you to click on their link.

The garment knits up fast and is a clever way to keep a small child warm, since it combines a hat and generous scarf, thus preventing the dreaded Chilly Neck Syndrome. (Size is adjustable from baby to toddler to child.) Pop it over the kid's head, stuff the ends into the snowsuit/jacket/bunting, and you're ready to roll. I forced myself to knit this in acrylic because I don't trust the parents of Caiden (beneficiary, age 6 months) to hand-wash anything. And much as I detest synthetic yarn, I have to admit that what I used--SMC Northern Worsted--is nice. (Purl Soho shows the popover gorgeously done-up in cashmere and a top-of-the-line merino from Swans Island.)

Speaking of Swans Island yarns, catch my latest article in Knitscene's Winter 2012 issue about Coastal New England Yarns, from Block Island (North Light Fibers) to Swans Island!

Heartfelt

It's a self-evident truth that V-day is nearly upon us. Recently, as I perused the assortment of regular daily emails that fly into my Inbox, I happened upon this from Knitting Daily, a charming and completely free-of-charge felted heart pattern designed by Mags Kandis.

In a eureka! moment I realized that my knitting of these lumpy little valentines would accomplish much in one fell swoop:

• I'd use up scraps of yarn;
• I'd practice "wrapping" stitches, as the pattern called for;
• I'd practice short rows;
• I'd try out a knitting app I'd downloaded onto my Iphone;
• and...I'd end up with several funky knitted heart-like things.

Well, it all worked like a charm, I'm happy to say. 

Knitted heart in primitive evolutionary stage.

Does not this open-faced heart resemble a ginko leaf? And gingkos are evolutionarily both primitive, in the sense of being very ancient, and also sui generis among trees.  (Don't ask why I know this.)

Following the 18-row pattern, I did a long-tail cast-on (thanks to the Knitting Goddess, who demo'd it for me and led me through two practices), reviewed the wrap-and-turn process of short rows (again thanks to the Knitting Goddess, who was, I think, born knowing all of this very useful stuff), and worked my way down the lines. But...I'm not a diligent note-taker, and it soon was apparent that I needed an aide-memoire.

Then I recalled that a few weeks ago I'd done a search in the App Store using the keyword "knitting," and had found a few gizmos to download.  (About these as a group, stay tuned for a future post.) One, Knit Counter Lite, seemed like it might be just the ticket, and I must say it was. With a mere tap of my pinkie, I kept track of rows and where I was, exactly, in the midst of them.

This might not seem like such a big deal to those who enjoy the tactile sensations of paper and pencil to tick off the rows completed, but I am the kind of person who starts with a paper and pencil and then gets annoyed because I don't want to put down the knitting to use them, so I say forget that, and I then do promptly forget where I am in the pattern.  With the Knit Counter Lite app, I could hold the knitting and simultaneously add each row with a tiny tap, or subtract  if I ripped one (or more) out. No longer was I lost nel mezzo del caminn, as it were.

I can't remember if this app was free of charge, and my Iphone won't tell me. A more sophisticated Knit Counter by the same company (Cordless Dog) costs $3.99 to download, and it's probably worth the price of admission, as it does quite a bit more than the Lite version.

Practical-minded knitters are undoubtedly wondering what I plan to do with these fuzzy felted hearts...and so am I, though Ted thinks they make a great bikini.

At this point I'm not worried about their purpose, but more inclined to say, along with M. Pascal, "the heart has its reasons...."

(Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point.)

Travelry

Do you know that memory game, played during long, boring car rides, where one person says, "I'm going on a trip and I'm taking my [fill in the blank]"? Then the second person says "I'm going on a trip and I'm taking [the thing first mentioned] and [another thing]."  Etcetera, ad nauseam. That was my life today trying to figure out which knitting project to bring with me to Long Island, where I'll be visiting my aunt.

I kept telling myself, "I'm going on a trip and I'm going to bring the brown fair-isle socks."  Then, playing the part of the next participant:  "I'm going on a trip and I'm going to bring the brown fair-isle socks and the evolving sweater." Then, a while later, "I'm going on a trip and I'm going to take the brown fair-isle socks, the evolving sweater, and the blue  variegated socks."

Because if I didn't have enough knitting along, I might run out of things to knit. OMG!

Then Ted said, "Get a grip.  You're only gone for two-and-a-half days."

So, I'm just taking two pairs of socks.  I'll be spending some significant hours on Amtrak and the LIRR; maybe I'll finish them both!

Meanwhile, the Evolving Sweater has once again regressed owing to another cable needle tragedy--this time the plastic cable separated from the metal screw-post.  I am starting to hate circular needles.

The malevolent needle is hanging out on the right.

As you perhaps know, we are having an unseasonably warm winter. Today, the first of February, the temperature in Westerly, Rhode Island was almost 60F, and the ambient flora are behaving accordingly. There are already snowdrops blooming in the garden!

Carrying on

It has been a strange week, gentle knitters. Strangest was a meeting of the Langworthy Library Knitters, which I found difficult to endure, so I left early.

As often happens when people democratically connected by little other than a single interest convene, there is some incompatibility among group members. This wouldn't matter if everyone focused on the shared passion of knitting. However, one member continually hijacks the conversation and monologues about her life as it played out from about the 1940s through present, though she seems especially fond of tales from the 1960s. Does she not notice that people rarely, if ever, respond to her chatter?

As usual there was this background noise, but then a new member joined the group, and within about fifteen minutes had informed us all of her extensive and serious health issues, surgeries, and treatments IN A VERY LOUD VOICE.

That was the straw, my friends. I do not go to a knitting club to be bombarded by the semi-tragic and deeply personal information of someone who's clearly looking for...what? Sympathy? Help? To this sad person, I donate a metaphorical Kit Bag. Were she to pack her troubles into it, she might enjoy life. Meanwhile I was the one with the fake smile on my face, while inwardly I wanted to stab someone with my #3 dpns, so nice and pointy.

So, farewell to the Langworthy Knitting Association for the time being.

Yes, people need to relieve themselves of the burdens of their misery, their angst, their fears. We all have confessed or vented to close friends, family members, clergy, and paid therapists. These are either people who know and love us, or people who are professionally qualified to help folks Deal with their Issues. What does it say about someone who foists her baggage on strangers and mere acquaintances? That, like Blanche Dubois, she relies on their kindness? IMHO, it merely adds unfairly to the burdens we all carry, less or more gracefully.

Never has the maxim, Keep Calm and Carry Yarn, seemed so appropriate.

Ted carries yarn.

Springing

I returned from Los Angeles to find Ted impersonating a strawberry.

The cap is an Ann Norling pattern -- "Kid's Fruit Cap" --done in an alpaca-merino blend.

Rufus thought he would hide behind Ted.  Neither of them noticed the crocuses, but they enjoyed the sun.  Tomorrow is spring, and tonight is the spring moon, also called the Super Moon.  This optical illusion appears once every eighteen years.

Planting ahead

Busy ant that he is, H has begun the winter crops:  kale, chard, radicchio, lettuce, garlic. Some of them are or will be outdoors under a heavy mulch wrap; others, like the lettuce, will be in the unheated hoop house. This is the first year he'll do lettuces there, and we are interested to see how long they can go before frost nukes them. Above photo is of two kinds of kale, still looking summery, as there hasn't yet been cold here to nip surrounding vegetables, and the straw mulch is yet to be applied.

My philosophy of knitted baby clothes is similar to that of the Master Gardener, inasmuch I prepare ahead by knitting everything for recent arrivals on this planet in size one year. It doesn't bother me that a sweater may be on the large and loose side.

Ted here is comparable in length and width to a three-month-old baby, but he thinks this oversized shetland-wool sweater looks fine on him, and doesn't mind the rolled-up sleeves.  He's loath to relinquish it, but it must be mailed tomorrow to Sofia in Berkeley, California, who was born in July. For those of you unfamiliar with Berkeley, it, like many coastal cities, has its share of morning mists and cool days, and we anticipate that Sofia will wear the sweater, in good health, for more than a year.

I've knitted this pattern once before; it's a free download that you can access here (scroll down to the bottom of the page) and was the ostensible subject of my very first ever post last year. The pattern calls for cotton yarn; I did it in wool and think the gauge may be larger than with cotton, but I didn't measure. That's one of the pleasures of knitting baby clothes--it's so not an exact science that it feels improvisatory. Too large is not a problem. This pattern is extremely clever--everything is done in one piece except for the button-on center panel. Thus you may knit several panels if you choose, for variety and to save washing the sweater too often. The pattern was designed by a mother of five, so she knows.

Speaking of which, a young woman came to the Langworthy Library Knitting Association meeting a few weeks ago with a ball of fingering weight white cotton yarn and size six needles she'd recently purchased. She didn't know how to knit but planned to make a sweater for an infant. I wished her much luck.