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.

Oh, go knit a turkey!

It's hard to believe that three years have passed since I knitted Terrie the Turkey from Susan B. Anderson's wonderful pattern, a free download from Spud and Chloë yarns.  If you compare the photos of my Terrie Turkey--named for a former friend--with the "Tiny Turkey" on the Spud and Chloë page, you'll see that my Terrie is rather overstuffed, or, to use the favored euphemism, "Rubensesque." There are two reasons for this.

Terrie nesting on a bed of lettuce in the greenhouse.

One is that this was the first knitted toy I'd ever made and I went somewhat overboard with the fiberfill. The other is that American poultry breeders favor big-breasted birds. Neighbors of mine in deeply rural Rhode Island raise chickens known as Cornish Crosses. These genetically-engineered blobs are so big-breasted that by six weeks of age they can barely walk because of top-heaviness. (Thus the short, unhappy life of native fowl.) So I guess that Terrie is actually somewhat realistic, insofar as a knitted turkey can be realistic. Also, I didn't knit her feet, which adds to the general impression of instability.

She will, as in past Thanksgivings, be the star of the table's centerpiece.

I'm giving you-all the heads up because there's still time before your feast to make yourself and your loved ones a knitted turkey or even a small flock. You have nothing else to do, right?

Meanwhile, there are a few things I need to get off my chest. In past Novembers, as Thanksgiving approaches, I've gone through a few songs-and-dances about my pet issues at this time of year. The first is Buy Nothing Day, aka Black Friday. I urge all of you knitters and your sisters and your cousins and your aunts to ignore the media-contrived shopping frenzy and turn this into Knit Something Day. If you send me photos of what you're knitting on November 29th, I shall post them on this blog.

I'd also like to remind those of you who live in this area of New England that the annual Buy Nothing Day Winter Coat Exchange takes place, both on the State House lawn in Providence and ancillary sites around the state and in Seekonk, MA.  Click here for addresses. If you have a warm coat to donate, drop it off. And if you need a coat, pick one up. No money is exchanged, only good will and positive energy.

So, gentle knitters, here's the drill: knit a turkey, celebrate Thanksgiving, drop off a coat to celebrate Buy Nothing Day, knit something to celebrate Knit Something Day (November 29th) while relaxing in the serenity of your unshopaholic life, and email me photos of your creations, which I shall post on the blog for general admiration. In advance I thank you ever so much for your contributions, and wish you all a lovely holiday and great leftovers, which as we all know, are the best part of the meal.

Finishing the (metaphorical) hat...

That song from Sondheim's Sunday in the Park with George has been ear-worming me recently.

So many projects, so little time! Then, in the latest Vogue Knitting (Holiday 2013) there's an interview with Esteemed Knitting Crone Barbara G. Walker who admonishes everyone to finish, finish, finish before starting anything new:  "My most basic advice to other knitters is:  Always finish your project, even if you're dying to start that much more interesting new thing."

Ipse dixit.  Okay, okay.

So I started finishing stuff.  More because of my inner Sondheim than the other guru. Socks, mostly. I don't suffer from SSS (Second Sock Syndrome). I do finish a pair at a time. It's just that I usually have three or four pairs going at once. Maybe I suffer from Sixth Sock Syndrome....

This race to the finish line, it was like wrestling with inner demons. There are about six thousand new projects I want to, I want to, I want to...

But no.  I must finish what I've started, just as BGW says. And, as Sondheim envisions Seurat, there is an appealing romantic driven intensity to the artist in thrall to his creative vision/compulsion.

Behold:

Left to right, a week's finishing work:  for Caeden (18 months), for Bettina G., for moi, for Ellen (still being finished).

I'm not proud to say that pair #3, faux cables in a beautifully soft Swans Island lilac fingering weight merino took me almost two years.  The central portion of each sock was mostly done during two round-trips on Amtrak from Westerly, RI to Philadelphia, PA--ten hours per trip, in the Quiet Car where talking and all other noisy distractions are verboten.

Was it worth it? No, she said unequivocally. The socks are lovely, but confirmed to me loud and clear that I am not a detail-oriented knitter. Or, put another way, I become hysterical and unpleasant when I have to concentrate on a complicated pattern. So, never again to this pattern.

But at least I finished them....

And when the woman that you wanted goes,
You can say to yourself, "Well, I give what I give."
But the woman who won't wait for you knows
That however you live,
There's a part of you always standing by,
Mapping out the sky,
Finishing a hat...
Starting on a hat...
Finishing a hat...
Look I made a hat...
Where there never was a hat.

(Stephen Sondheim, "Finishing the Hat" from Sunday in the Park with George.)