Let's not...

I've sometimes gotten assignments about summer knitting, wherein I was supposed to show readers how much fun it is to knit when the temperature and humidity levels are insanely high. Hello? Obviously this tack runs counter to reality, not to mention common sense.

I do understand, however, that the knitting-addicted allow their obsession to override sanity. I think of my job, in such situations, as that of a practical abetter:  a friend who says, in effect, Look, I know it's ridiculous to knit under such conditions, but I understand this is about being possessed by a knitting demon.  In these cases I tend to recommend very small projects done of lightweight or non-wool yarns.

Here in New England the temperature and humidity levels have been disgusting for the past two weeks, with little rain (we're talking drought conditions), and small prospects of immediate relief. Truthfully, gentle knitters, it has been an ordeal for me to knit anything at all, even with the benefit of air conditioning. If you, too, are suffering in a similar way, I'd like to propose a brief vacation from the act of knitting. Admittedly this sounds horrifying, but you can feed your lust by reading a knitting book! A good knitting book can be almost as enjoyable as knitting the most beautiful cashmere yarn on the planet.

Photo credit: Carrie Hoge.

So, here's one to start with--new this month from Lark Crafts publishers.  I reviewed another Carol J. Sulcoski book not too long ago, and I own an earlier volume of hers that I purchased in 2012, SockYarn Studio. Ms. Sulcoski is a writer of merit, with many interesting patterns and projects for your delectation.

Self-Striping Yarn Studio might be my favorite book of hers so far, because it contains an engaging and informed discussion of the properties and quirks of self-striping yarn, acknowledges the fun of knitting yarns that change colors randomly, programmatically, and gradiently, and offers useful ideas about how to manage the layout of a particular yarn's dye patterns.  In addition, there are quite a few inspiring designs for cowls, sweaters, blankets, baby jackets, hats--really anything you'd enjoy knitting.

Photo credit:  Carrie Hoge.

I think this "Damask Iris Cowl" pattern, by Barb Brown, particularly beautiful. The majority of the volume's twenty-five patterns (designed by contributors as well as Ms. Sulcoski), arranged according to yarn weight, are equally lovely, so they offer much food for thought. And that's what we're aiming for right now as a way of getting through all the heat--food for thought, a.k.a. knitting in the abstract.

Next post I'll be raving about Deborah Newton's recent awesome volume, Good Measure:  A Perfect Fit Every Time.  This came out about ten months ago and I've been waiting to talk about it for ever so long, but really needed a while to digest it.  (Plus, someone--you know who you are--has borrowed and not yet returned my volume of the prequel, Finishing School:  A Master Class for Knitters, and I've wanted to look at the books together...so that's also been causing the delay.)

Well, I would be dishonest if I didn't undermine my opening disquisition by confessing that I actually have been knitting a little bit...another toy, this for a baby who was supposed to arrive several days ago, but who obviously hates HHH weather as much as everyone else.

He's the second sheep dog I've made, and the design is from Knitted Farm Animals by Sarah Keen (2012).  For a free copy of the pattern, courtesy of Lion Brand Yarns, check out one of my articles about knitted toys.

Miscellany...

A miscellany is a random hodgepodge of things, and knitwear designer (and lawyer) Carol J. Sulcoski's petite volume entitled Knitting Ephemera (recently published by Sixth and Spring) fits the definition well. Be warned: The print is minuscule and packed onto the page, so you may need your magnifiers. And, there is no Table of Contents (there is an Index) or organizing principle, really, other than factoids about knitting (and some about crochet). Disorientation is part of the process, but it's a temporary state, kind of a portal state, really, to render you receptive to the luminous yarn halo of knitting consciousness.

Reading the book is like walking into a messy knitter's house (not yours, of course), that nonetheless feels familiar and comfortable, chaos notwithstanding, because, and only because, you are a heavily-addicted knitter and therefore love anything to do with the craft, and also you have the type of mind that delights in such a random collection of informational tidbits.  You are in Knitterland! To mix metaphors somewhat (actually, a lot), the book is like a recipe collection that someone has put together over the years in a folder, a collection that consists of smeary words scribbled onto index cards, recipes ripped from newspapers, or cut off the backs of food boxes. It is very disjointed but you love fooling around in the kitchen, and you love culinary history, and you love deathless volumes like The Joy of Cooking--so you don't care about its disorganized state--in fact, it feels kind of good. You also enjoy books that mimic the conventions of nineteenth-century and even eighteenth-century publishing, and come with lovely red ribbon markers to hold your place. (Again, like The Joy of Cooking.) If you are such a person, my advice is Go for it!, buy this treasury, and also think about giving Knitting Ephemera to the Knitter Who Has Everything, before someone else does. Or before the volume becomes ephemeral.

***

I encountered the word "miscellany" as a child, and since I only read it--I think there was a column in Time Magazine of yore entitled "Miscellany"--I thought it was pronounced miss-SELL-a-knee, and for many years I couldn't figure out what it meant. Then, as a graduate student, I encountered Tottel's Miscellany, the first-ever published anthology of poetry in English (1557). Subsequently the term has proved useful.

*** 

Perhaps some of you, gentle knitters, convene occasionally with like-minded souls, for social as well as instructive purposes. My cabal, a group of exemplars styled K4TOG, meets as often as manageable for knitting-centric discussion and edification. Thus we inaugurated our 2016 agenda last week....Here you may observe one of us conscientiously winding yarn and conversing with the other knitters, while admirably ignoring the temptations of alcohol.

'Tis the season...

Maybe because it's the stressful holiday time of headless-chicken behavior, but lots of stuff has gone kablooey in the past few weeks (think late-night visits to the ER, pet health issues, loss of communications owing to Hurricane Sandy, Thanksgiving, dear friends undergoing the surgical knife), hence the scarcity of my posting. As well, I've been perpetually losing things in the chaos of my incompetent housekeeping, resulting in anguished moments and serious meltdowns. Also, it did not help that H thought it was important to give his twelve-year-old grandson lessons in gunsmanship last weekend. But that is life. At some point I pick myself up, dust myself off, and ask these Important Questions:  Does what you're looking for Really Matter?  What if you had to do without it?

The answers are invariably "No," and "I'd be just fine." The rational (and smallest) part of my brain then feels smug and superior, and the crybaby part hides sulkily under the covers. Until the next hysterical eruption.

So...a few weeks ago three knitting books to review came into my life, and I wanted to tell you about them earlier but too much of mundanity intervened, and, additionally, I had no idea where I'd put them in my many-mansioned house. However, they recently surfaced and there's still enough time for you to buy one or all if you're motivated by my reviews, before the holidays are mere ghosts of Xmas past. (Depending on how prosocial you feel, check them out at your local independent bookstore, your LYS, or on Amazon.com.)

The best and most wonderful of this trio is Sock Yarn Studio, by Carol J. Sulcoski. (Lark Crafts, 2012).

Most of us sock-knitting enthusiasts have leftovers in our stashes, and Sock Yarn Studio is good at suggesting how to make use of these. Beyond that, there are excellent ideas for clothes and accessories designed specifically to showcase beautiful, interesting sock yarn. If you enjoy knitting largish items on tiny needles, this is a good book for you. There are sweater, capelet, vest, and afghan patterns, all done on #2 and 3s. Then there are less voluminous things, like mitts, scarves, shawls, throw pillows, and caps, for knitters with short attention spans. The best thing about this book is that most of its patterns (a compendium from different designers) are attractive and well-explained. Sulcoski's prefatory sections on technique and inspiration are also very good; she has a delightfully direct approach, beginning with the question "What is 'sock' yarn?" So I say, this is a worthwhile addition to your own knitting library, especially if you do or don't knit socks and admire sock yarn, and maybe you should drop some hints if someone you know is trying to figure out a present for you.

***

The other two books have their merits, but to be perfectly honest, I have to say "Proceed with Caution," as the design quality is uneven. If you are a knitter interested in doing small projects with luxury yarns, have a look at the latest volume by Iris Schreier (founder of the luxury yarn company, Artyarns),  One + One Hats:  Thirty Projects from Just Two Skeins (Lark Crafts, November 2012).  

Obviously, the hats on the cover are attractive, and there are a few of comparable beauty inside. However, there's also a number of patterns so peculiar that you'll find yourself staring in disbelief. Does this matter, though? It does if you want maximum value for your money, I suppose. But then there is the cookbook analogy.

Let's say you buy a cookbook on the strength of one recipe you've been served at someone's house and thought a real winner.  Then, having purchased this cookbook and trying some of the other recipes, you discover that most are ok but nothing great, and some are just plain awful. Does this mean you wasted your money?

I guess the answer is not really. I think of the wondrous gingersnaps I've made zillions of times over the years, from The Picnic Gourmet, a 1977 book filled with otherwise forgettable recipes. So, all I'm saying is caveat emptor.

***

And then there's Cathy Carron's just-published Short Story: Chic Knits for Layering (Sixth and Spring, 2012).

If you are between the ages of fourteen and thirty and extremely slender, you'll probably look very good in most of these designs, which are youthful verging on infantile. If you're a "mature" sort of person (31+) and a pretty good knitter, you might adapt a number of these designs, making them more user-friendly and flattering by extending the bottoms of these sweaters by about eighteen or so inches. I realize the lengthening process is counter to the book's Big Idea, but that's my humble opinion. If you're going to spend all that time knitting something to wear, it ought to be something that flatters and can be loved for years on end.

Yet... there are good ideas in this book as well as in the two others--ideas about color, form, and texture--that can be useful, and even inspiring. They're all three worth the read, even if that's all you do--just read them.

As for moi, I was inspired almost immediately by the idea of using sock yarn for non-sock purposes (thank you, Carol Sulcoski), and, whipping out the #2s, I made myself an elbow patch for an ancient, beloved, and ripped-at-point-of-extreme-wear cashmere sweater (machine made) that I've owned for almost twenty years.