Today is for knitting.

Stay warm!

Mistakes were made.

Don't you love that passive verb statement--mistakes were made--which so neatly sidesteps accountability? Well, sometimes, if you're not a political weasel, it can actually be a helpful explanation of what went wrong and how it was righted. Possibly we are put on earth to learn from our errors...um... possibly.....

Gentle knitters, my mistake was believing that a boutique brand of self-proclaimed 4-ply sock yarn (60% baby alpaca and 40% soy silk) would be durable. It's a very pricey yarn (I won't name it, because I believe that the novice manufacturer's mistake may simply be attributed to lack of fiber-spinning experience) at $30/skein for 200 yards, and I discovered that I needed two skeins to make a pair of socks because one skein only produced one full sock and a half sock--and these socks weren't very high up the leg, either.

The short story is that I made the socks, wore them maybe three times, and the toes ripped!! I darned the toes several times, and the darning didn't hold because the toe fibers were so stressed and thin.

Sixty dollars, my friends. Think about that. (Full disclosure: this yarn was a gift from the producer.) Moreover, I discovered that the yarn has a felty tendency, so that the mock-cable pattern I knitted became nearly indiscernible after the first washing (by hand, in cold water) and the inside of the sock gathered long, loose strands of matted fibers, producing a kind of thrummed lining, which wasn't actually all that bad. Unfortunately the thrumming didn't make it down to the toes and strengthen them.

The idea of performing surgery entered my consciousness. I've seen fearless knitters cut steeks, and I reasoned that I could take scissors to these socks and delete the toes; the yarn wouldn't be likely to ravel because it was so fibery-felty. And that's what I did. I had nothing to lose, as the socks were toast unless a radical step was taken.

So here's the good news: I was able to pick up live loops very easily, and reknit the toes in a nylon-reinforced yarn--specifically a remnant of Noro's beautiful-kooky Silk Garden Sock, which is 40% lamb's wool, 25% silk, 25% nylon, and 10% kid mohair. (Strengthening fibers are bolded.)

Moral of story:  NEVER knit the toe of a sock (and maybe the heel, too) in an unreinforced yarn.

Caveat emptor. Live and learn. Over to you.

Resolved: Must. Slow. Down.

Must. Slow. Down. And maybe hibernate for a while, as January would encourage? Approaching the seventh decade of my life, I'm swiftly realizing that there's no way I can multi-task anymore. Case in point: last Thursday we were on the verge of a snowstorm, and I rushed around trying to get things done, especially mailing out several parcels and letters before the predicted blizzard. One of them was the monkey hat for Max, and in my haste I put the wrong zipcode on the package. (I discovered this because I paid extra for Tracking, and as I idly studied the receipt saw that the zipcode was for another address in Los Angeles.)

So now it will be interesting to see if the PO corrects my error and delivers to the intended address, or if the package will be returned, or if it will just go missing. I'm trying not to get bent out of shape about this. Worst case scenario is that I knit another cap. HOWEVER, if I'd just done things more slowly I could have avoided this mishap in the first place. GRRRRRRRRRRRR, she said. If any Recovering Type A out there has good suggestions for losing the Multitask Compulsion, please share.

* * *

Last weekend I spent some time at Slater Mill in Pawtucket, RI, where the Hook and Needle Guild sponsored knitting workshops, a yarn marketplace, and other alluring events. My friend Linda Perry was there with her Thistledown hand-dyed yarns

and I had the good fortune to meet Barb Parry, author of Adventures in Yarn Farming which chronicles her life with sheep and yarn at Springdelle Farm in western Massachusetts. My photo here doesn't do justice to the beautiful shades of her Foxfire yarn--the lighting in Slater Mill is beyond horrible--but in terms of saturation and depth of color I've seen few indie-dyed fibers that can match this quality. I bought some of her Cormo Alpaca Lace (70% Cormo wool, 30% alpaca) a beautiful coral red she called "Amaryllis." What will become of it, I wonder?

Barbara Parry of Springdelle Farm, Foxfire Fiber and Design, and Adventures in Yarn Farming.

The book itself, which I'm now reading, is one of those lovely chronicles of a life ruled by natural cycles, in the grand Thoreauvian tradition, with many bonuses, such as beautiful photography by Ben Barnhart, recipes for dyeing yarn and cooking food, and a selection of knitting patterns by assorted designers. It's the kind of book that every knitter deserves, and will enjoy increasingly over time.

For anyone wanting to meet the author and get a signed copy of Adventures, you can find her this Saturday (1/25) in Wayland, MA at the Wayland Winter Farmer's Market Fiber Day at Russell's Garden Center, and from February 28-March 2nd at the New England Textile Arts SPA weekend at the Hilton Garden Inn in Freeport, Maine.  

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.

Hedge Fund

William (right) has a new friend (left), as yet unnamed. 

They are both born of wonderful free patterns, from Purl Soho and Lion Brand. 

"..I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space...."

Hamlet, II, ii, 254 ff.

Various, but not random

Gentle knitters,
I must do some catch-up here for there's been a lot of traveling in my recent past and scant time to post. Apologies, because as usual Life trumps Writing. However, you may recall my exhortation to knit something on Knit Something Day (the 29th of November) in lieu of mindless consumerist Black Friday bingeing, and several of you sent photos of your post-Thanksgiving Day efforts, which may be enjoyed below.

Joan W. of Weston, MA, knitted this vase from a Classic Elite pattern.

Preparing to reknit the sleeve; a minor adjustment.

Neuroknitter decided to re-knit part of a sweater on Knit Something Day.

She made a sweater a few years ago that she wore so often, the sleeves stretched out because they were too long and "I felt like they were dragging the rest of the sweater off my shoulder."  Her further explanations are the photo captions.

Old and new sleeve (new on top), a minor adjustment.

Unseemly seam.

Voila! A better seam!

Detail:  Brownie, Neuroknitter's invaluable assistant, steadies the garment as N finishes with mattress-stitch seaming.

***

Susie B., of NYC, finished this gorgeous bobble-decorated sweater for a toddler.  It took her  a year to knit, but she started before the child could walk.

Deborah N. of Providence, RI, designed and finished a cowl "for a beloved niece, in a beloved yarn that is now, maddeningly, no more--Ecologie Wool from Nashua."

I knitted Superbunny, loosely based on this free pattern from Lion Brand Yarn, adding cape, insignia (with E, the initial of the person with whom he now lives), in Vanna's Choice Cotton Ease (the red sweater) and Classic Elite Bamboo (the rest).

***

Zontee H. of Brooklyn, NY, crocheted this afghan for an ailing friend. What could be more comforting?

and last but not least is this witty sweater from upcoming Rhode Island designer, Casapinka:

You can find Casapinka's designs on her blog, through Ravelry, Etsy, or at Knit One Quilt Two in Barrington, RI.

***

Well, that's all that showed up in my Inbox on the post-Thanksgiving weekend. My gratitude to those who contributed, and I hope more of you send me images next year. Meanwhile I've been obsessively busy with finishing, socks, and Mr. Max, my new grandson, who arrived on December 3rd. 

Maxwell David, current and future recipient of many handknits.

Having just returned from an emotional introductory meeting in Los Angeles (he cried A LOT), I can assure you only l'amour d'une grande-mère could compel me to fly a 6,000 mile round trip and drive, aided solely by I-phone GPS, the harrowing freeways of that eternally strange city. On the way back, such are the inevitable, expected, and unprotested longueurs of air travel, that I began a top-down sock in the LA airport, and made it to an inch or so past the heel-turn before deplaning in Providence.  

Murray, his person, I, and another passenger shared the bulkhead seat. I chose this seat because I had to race to catch another flight when the plane landed in Baltimore, and I wanted to be up front. And I love dogs. Murray is a good guy, but the arrangement was actually quite cramped.

Plus, on this long flight (and I sat next to Murray, a Golden Doodle therapy pet, but that is another story...of the shaggy dog genre) I could knit only by holding my arms very close to my body or extended before me in a weirdly strained position. Is that knitting dedication or what? 

Alfie did not appreciate my interrupting his nap for a photo shoot of the LAX sock.

Till the next time, may your holiday celebrations be serene, peaceful, and knit-worthy.

You need this book.

Why? Because it's a great concept and compendium.  Billed as "the ultimate yarn crawl," 60 Quick Knits from America's Yarn Shops (Sixth & Spring 2013)--really is just that. Save on gas and Metrocards; be an armchair knitter/traveler and do the crawl from the comfort of your personal knitting nook, wearing whatever you damn well please.

The patterns within--all in Cascade yarns--come from LYS all over the country. Think about it--part of being a yarn store owner involves guiding patrons towards projects within their technical comfort zones, projects that turn out well without a struggle. It takes a good knitter/designer to understand this.

So IMHO it's brilliant that the editors tapped the creative, accumulated wisdom of these knitting gurus and published sixty of their patterns. And Cascade yarns, especially 220 and 220 Superwash, are backbone yarns: high quality, wonderful colors, durable, excellent value. You can't go wrong with this book. Since the idea here is quick knits, the projects are small, but they're the kinds of things you'll make repeatedly: lovely mittens, charming children's and adults' hats, socks, scarves, shawlettes. This is basic good design that's stylish, classic, and useful.

The publisher has kindly made available one giveaway copy. If you'd like it and you live in the U.S. or Canada (sorry, no overseas mail), post a comment on this blog by midnight December 8th telling me why. I'll choose the knitter with the most interesting reason.

Snowflake Mittens, designed by Trish Mitberg of Knitting Bee, Portland, Oregon.