Songs (almost) without words, Part One....

Neuroknitter and I set out on a self-devised Rhode Island yarn crawl last week. Our itinerary:  Fresh Purls (Providence), The Yarn Outlet (Pawtucket), Peter Patchis Yarns (Central Falls), and Bella Yarns (Warren).

Karen, the owner of Fresh Purls, delightedly displayed her new tattoo!

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Please note the basket for knitted charitable donations below the needles!

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Though this is a decidedly enticing vision, know that most of the yarn is for weaving, not conventional knitting.

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Department of Good Works: a calendar

It came to my attention recently that St. Mungo's, a British organization dedicated to helping the homeless, has proclaimed October 26th Woolly Hat Day.  Volunteer knitters are asked to make 5,678 orange watch caps to be sold for fund-raising, and, according to its website "to be used to create a stunt."

The number of hats--5,678--represents the number of homeless people forced to sleep on London streets last year.

And, sooner than we think, Buy Nothing Day, a.k.a. Black Friday (the day after Thanksgiving), will be upon us. Faithful readers of this blog know that over the past few years I have publicly deplored the wretched excess of Black Friday, the day on which the holiday shopping season officially begins. It's not just that I'm philosophically opposed to conspicuous consumption and mindless spending on unnecessary stuff. It's also that in a world where so many lack food, shelter, basic services, and gainful employment, our society's materialism--and the consumerist frenzy it fuels in November and December--is profoundly disturbing.  Not to mention wrong.

Thus I've always encouraged my readers to re-conceptualize Black Friday as Knit Something Day.

Knit Something Day (23 November this year) is a day when knitters anywhere can put positive energy into the world by boycotting stores and simply knitting.  Knit Something Day is a day when knitters can knit something for charity that can be donated to an organization serving the needy.  Knit Something Day--a.k.a. Buy Nothing Day-- is also when the Annual Coat Exchange happens in Rhode Island.

The Annual Winter Coat Exchange is an opportunity for people who have extra winter coats to bring them to specific venues--including the lawn of the State House in Providence--and give them to folks who need warm outerwear.  The Annual Coat Exchange is an opportunity for anyone who needs a warm coat to find one.  No money is involved, only good will.

Well, here's the calendar so far:

• 26 October:           Woolly Hat Day
• 23 November:       Buy Nothing Day, Knit Something Day, Annual Coat Exchange (RI)

And, on a lighter note, October 12th, I've just learned, is I Love Yarn Day!  It's a celebration that has both a fun and a charitable purpose, as you'll see if you read the link.

I'm compiling a list of drop-off sites for knitted donations, and welcome input from my readers if you'd like me to publicize a collection place you know of.  Please be in touch!

Quentin and Orla are back!  And it's mating season...

 

Photo Album: Travel Memories

Providence, RI March 2006

Raleigh, NC June 2007

Mystic, CT April 2008

Barton, VT, October 2008

White River Junction, NH, October 2009

Haddam, CT, March 2010

Northampton, MA, June 2010

London, England, January 2011

Los Angeles, CA, March 2011

Philadelphia, PA, December 2011

Torrance, CT April 2012

Charleston, SC April 2012

Block Island, RI, May 2012

North Fairport, ME June 2012

Blanket statement.

Despite their resemblance to ETs, these are two knitted blankets I've just finished. Both are from free patterns I discovered on the Web. The log cabin afghan is done in blocks that are sewed together. The "Baby Shane" blanket is a clever design based on knitted triangles integrated through picking up stitches to form a square; there's only one seam in the end. To their designers I say, Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Really, these were amazing fun to knit, and are excellent mindless projects, well suited to traveling and television. Apart from the geometric beauty of each blanket, I savored the pleasure of using up stash yarn. What is more satisfying than that?

Summer on the Wood River.

July and August

Grown in Woodville, RI.  They're organic!

The Yarnie Bomber

Yarn bombing has always seemed to me one of those LITS activities (Life Is Too Short), and besides, it usually looks unattractive. Why spend precious time knitting couvertures for inanimate objects (tea pots excepted), when you could be creating useful clothing for humans and pets? No one to knit for? (Ha!) Think: charitable giving.

Having prologued thus, I must confess:  I have become a Yarnie Bomber, and here is my story.

It all began last week when I discovered several ancient plastic bags in the back of a dusty closet, and the bags were filled with yarn. The yarn had belonged to my adorable mother-in-law, Gladys Jewel Thomas Ward (1903-2000), who apparently had used it to crochet afghans.

Most of the yarn was horrible to contemplate, although it admittedly had a certain vintage cachet.

I Googled this  "Lovely Ann Lofty Spun Yarn (75% rayon, 25% cotton) to see if I could discover its historical background, without luck. All I can say with certainty is that it's at least 30 years old, but probably older.

Along with this bilious green, was a partial skein of the same yarn in carnation pink. I held it gingerly between thumb and forefinger, and it was then that my Aha! moment occurred:  As this  yarn was not suitable for human consumption, I could use it to yarn bomb!

Thus has begun my yarn-bombing career.

I've selected the naked post of my rural mailbox as the yarn-bombing target. My approach will be serial--in other words, an accretive strategy. As time marches on, so will the coverage of the designated target. (Stay tuned for progress reports!)  I shall search my stash for every last skein of Unfit for Human Consumption Yarn (i.e. synthetics that have been given to me by well-intentioned non-knitters) and use them to ornament my mailbox--perhaps other landscape features, too.

In the same dusty bags I found several partial skeins of Red Heart, Rochelle, and Pomfret mothproof, "Tangle-Proof" 100% virgin wool worsted. (Some labels still have price tags:  97 cents a skein.)  Again, I estimate the age of this yarn to be somewhat ancient. What impressed me most was that the mothproofing had really worked! The yarn is in very good shape.

"Would you like me to knit you a scarf from this cache of your mother's yarn?" I asked H, as we sat gazing inanely at the Summer Olympics on NBC, he nursing a scotch, I knitting feverishly, as I usually do when my brain is on vacation.

"Whatever for?" he responded. "I don't need another scarf."

Lola says:  "Take time to smell the wildflowers!"

Wilted

Imagine the steamiest shower you've ever taken, the hottest wettest laundry room, the alligator pond in full sun at a suburban zoo--scummy water with a cloudy overlay of mosquitoes and midges, mainly but not quite obscuring the rarely-blinking eyeballs of the mostly-submerged, sludge-colored reptiles. Humidity, heat, stasis, torpor.

That is today's weather in New England. It was also yesterday's and that of the day before, and it will be tomorrow's as well.

O divine goddess of the conditioned air, I thank thee for thy cooling breath that refresheth my listless, depleted, heat-enervated soul, and for thy wise, judicious thermostat that gloweth in the dark and maintaineth my dwelling in shady comfort. 

Of course, I am knitting socks. I mean, why not? Inspired by a recent post on the Knitting Daily blog, I did a heel in the Eye of Partridge stitch.

I like this! It looks kind of Byzantine, and it also seems cushier and is possibly more durable than conventional heel stitches. I'm thinking about how Eye of Partridge can be adapted to toes, which usually bear more stress than do the heels.

Meanwhile, I finished the buttercup yellow socks of North Light Fibers' lofty and light alpaca/mohair sock yarn called Island Meadow Blend, but it is simply too hot hot hot to wear them, so they obligingly struck a footless pose for me amongst drooping greenery:

Please note the fine stitch definition of this yarn.

Gentle knitters, if you have additional interesting suggestions about coping with sticky, horrible, horrendously humid heat, I should be ever so pleased to share them with the readership. Do let me know.