Saturday, September 23, 2006
What is old is new again
Knitting has been ramming me into the wall lately. I've got the Steelers Mojo Socks. Last week, I just went round and round and round on the foot, making what felt like very little progress, much like the Steelers' offense. I've got a Christmas scarf on the needles that's gotten to the "yeah yeah, we get that the pattern looks neat and is easily remembered...but you've still got 60 inches to go...now what?" stage. You've seen the Life's Work Aran Shawl. I've knit 5 rows on it. That's all I can handle in a week of it.
I've been casting about for another Major Work project that will actually show me progress. My attention has fallen on a clutch of Cascade Sierra I've had for about a year now. I bought it on the suggestion of a yarn employee (the shop shall remain namesless to protect the innocent) to be the material of theThree-Penny Pullover. However, even though I swatched RIGHT THERE IN THE STORE and GOT GAUGE on the FIRST TRY, I was concerned that the yarn recommends size 7 needles and I was using size 9's. As I knit the sweater, it became obvious that with the texture and makeup of the yarn (80% Pima Cotton, 20% Merino), the thing was going to be see-through due to the stretch caused by its own weight. Back into the stash it went. The sweater (as with the blogger linked above), is still a road not taken.
Two thousand or so yards of navy blue languished in a drawer until this past month. This month I picked up Vogue Knitting (not a usual purchase) because I had heard it has a kick-ass section on socks. I fell in love with a Michael Cors cable-knit cardigan in a dark brown. This one called for size 8 & 10 needles. I fell into the same large needle trap as I did before. Things were going great, I finished the back! Wasn't too heavy, wasn't too stretchy. Started working on the front -- are those cables? Are you sure they're cables? It's not just a rough patch in the yarn where it was spun badly? Cables? Really? Couldn't see them at all. Not up close, not from across the room. Forget it. Frogged the whole thing. This time, however, I refused to go quietly into the night. There's got to be SOMETHING for this yarn. SOMETHING, dammit. I looked around online to see what the Cascade Sierra Ravers used theirs on. Hmm...tighter gauge things. Size 6's, you say? Really. I'll bite. I started to think outside the box. Perhaps God is telling me to knit for OTHERS. Is it time to try this again?
Even though I may have found a use for the yarn, what interest is there in a 5x3 rib in a color that the DH isn't wild about anyway? Yards and yards of navy blue ribbing with nothing to do until arm shaping. Maybe I need TWO major projects...(do any of you go through this???)
I reorganized the yarn dresser (my yarn has its own dresser now!!!), saw nothing to inspire. Maybe it was the dimly lighting in the craft room (my craft has a room!!!! I LOVE THIS HOUSE!!!). To continue the reorganization binge, I decided to try to consolidate all of my fabric from my previous life as a quilter into one steamer trunk. Then I blacked out (think I slipped on some ultra slippery calico) and woke up this morning with this covering my coffee table.
How did THAT get there? I haven't TOUCHED my Grandmother's Flower Garden in years!
Actually, as I've continued to trace little hexagons on fabric to be cut out of said fabric to be basted onto paper hexagons, which also need to be cut out, to whip stitch together, a calm peace has come over me. My fabric stash has no history, almost no memory. I have not dived into it in years. I can't remember what I was saving that red fabric for, or how much the pale green 30s reproduction print (or is it authentic???) cost. I can use it all without guilt! What freedom!!! It's open season! Everything's available to me! Where the Cascade Sierra has a history of not fitting in, where its projects are doomed to failure even before the first stitch is cast on, the fabric no longer has any of that! I can mix 100% cottons with cotton/acrylic blends! I can use that hydrangea fabric I'd been hording for -- I can't even remember!
It's time to give the knitting stash time to percolate for awhile, let it marinate in its own yarny, wooly goodness, let its surprises bubble up to the top drawer, let inhibitions and curses wash away with time, replaced by new inspirations. (This, of course does not apply to sock yarn...even I have limits.)
Now if only I could that queen-size blanket into my purse.
And now, your moment in the Highlands:
I believe this is the same day. Yes. Good example of Scottish weather, absolutely bleak one minute, absolutely sunny the next. We actually had our best weather of the day during the two hours or so it took us to get to Applecross from Eilean Donan Castle. This is one of two roads that can be used to get to Applecross and is by far the more adventuresome one. It is aptly named Bealach Na Ba, "The Pass of the Cattle," or The Cowpath, if you like. This was the view from behind us we steadily crept our way up the sheep covered hills (I have no good shot of the wool, the digital zoom didn't work too well.), complete with switchback turns, and, this being a single track road, passing places. Yes, that little ribbon of gray headed all the way down the hill...that's the road, and it turns 170 degrees just off to the right, and again just off to the left. There was a large sign that said "No caravans (RVS) or lorries (Big Rigs)," and of course, two vehicles in front of us, was a lumbering RV. Which was good, as it gave us time at every passing place to take more and more pictures. Unbelievable that a place like this could exist in nature. This evening, we stayed at the Applecross Inn, had crab and fish fresh from the bay and a generally delightful time. Things were looking up.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Shameless name dropping
I officially grew up on the street of pseudo-stardom.
I lived with this guy:
Lived across the street from this guy:
Who lived next door to her:
and she didn't get voted off last night!
I would like to thank you all for being part of my 15 minutes of fame. Only 12 houses on the street. Eesh.
And now, your moment in the Highlands.
July 28th will forever be known as the day we got our luggage back. It was a big day. By far the best day. The day in which we saw the most stuff. The day in which we'd been married for a week.
The day in which we touched a bit of 80's sci-fi history.
Anyone recognize it? This is Eilean Donan Castle. Famed for its involvement in Original Highlander Movie. I haven't been able to find any photographic evidence of this, but get it on Netflix. It's in there. :-)
Up next: What's Gaelic for "cow path?"
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Quickie
Have you seen the new Aleve commercial?
(You should see a map of the U.S., she's just east of California, right below the big guy with a kid on his shoulders.) One of the more realistic portrayals of knitting that I've seen on TV. Some of you might not remember the uproar when the Quilted Northern Quilters came out. Quilters wrote hundreds of letters to the company colmplaining about the accuracy of the quilting method. The initial commercials depicted the quilters with two long needles a piece, working the fabric the way you'd see knitting done in a cartoon. (Needle tips pointed down.) Not to mention the fact that the "Q" on all the sweaters was backwards, suggesting that quilters were unintelligent(?). The next set of commercials depicted the women with one needle, as long as a crowbar, but still it was an improvement.
It's good to see an accurate portrayal of knitting on the tube. She's even using a circular needle to knit back and forth! Hardly stereotypical. My only question is, if she splurged and bought Addi circulars, why is she using acrylic yarn? I'm sure she has her reasons.
Another good portrayal of knitting in the media is in Spirited Away. How accurate is the spinning?
Just something that brought a smile to my face this morning. :-)
And now, your moment in the Highlands.
Today we bring you part of a mountain formation called the Five Sisters of Kintail. It's a series of 5 mountain peaks that line up all in a row. Most of the Sisters are on the right. Number 4 and 5 are directly behind us. At this point we are about a 20 minute drive from the Isle of Skye off the western coast of Scotland. More significant in this picture is that we seem to be wearing new clothes. At the end of day 5 of our 10 day honeymoon, we checked in one final time with the B&B where our luggage was supposed to end up. Nothing. We told her if it showed up, have them send it back to America. We're more than half way through now. We left her a copy of our itinerary in case the shipping guy wanted to talk to us directly. We proceeded to the next B&B on the trip, about a 45 minute drive south, where we washed our underwear with hand soap, resigning ourselves to another 5 days with no clothes. Day 6 dawned dreary & foggy (but made for some awesome pictures). We ate breakfast, checked out and were just saying goodbye to our inn keepers when the phone of the B&B rang. It was the shipping company. Apparently, our luggage had shown up and our last hostess told the shipping guy to haul ass down the road to get us our luggage and to CALL FIRST to keep us at the B&B. We sat and waited around until he got there. YAY!!!!! Justin's luggage was fine, but half of my clothes wreaked of must and mildew, some actually growing on my clogs. UGH!!!! I did a quick inventory of what I needed and what I had and thought "Why the hell did I PACK all of this???" Next time we do the UK on two pairs of jeans. Day 6, luggage returned. Mark it on your calendars.
Next up: We pretend we're 1980's Sci-Fi immortals.
Friday, September 8, 2006
Mojo
Last night was the start of NFL Football. (There's knitting, I swear.) Long time readers will know what a football freak I am...or rather what a Steeler Freak I am. I scream at the TV, I jump up and down. I coach from the couch. I would try to go to the student lounge in college to watch the Steelers game and couldn't understand why the frat boys with backwards hats would sit there so quietly.
Love of football goes back to birth, I think. Even in the dark days of the Mark Malone era, in decade-long hangover from four Superbowl championships, my family would meet in my grandparents basement every Sunday afternoon after church for the games. When I started to toddle, and wandered in front of the TV, a universal shout would go up and a swift arm would reach out and pull me back. I had my first taste of beer (fresh from the tap that came out of the wall) in order to prevent my mouth from being scorched by Gram's Killer Chili. There was the entire season that we made my cousin sit upstairs during crucial plays because early on in the season he had been in the bathroom during an interception that saved the game. There were years of disinterest when I would bring a book and sit perched on the steps, looking up only if an exclamatory cry disrupted the world I was lost in.
I don't know when, but at some point I started to pay attention. At some point I started to learn the players' names. At some point, something just became so engrained in me that when I went to college, I didn't know what to do on Sunday afternoons. Most of the time, the TV stations near Columbus broadcast the Browns games, and I would miss my beloved Steelers. There were seasons that slipped by that I only watched a game or two, driving the three hours back to school on Monday morning just so I could stay past half time. Justin was introduced to the bulk of my family on one such Sunday. Sunday basement games were the perfect times to introduce a new boyfriend. Football is something most guys can chat about at least on a cursory level, before warming up to such topics as "job prospects." In fact, the Sunday Football Game was a huge part of my Dad's toast at our wedding...which I can't remember. Dad, do you have that written down somewhere? Is it bronzed yet?
When I went to seminary in Chicago, finally technology had caught up and I could listen to live broadcasts of the game over the internet, and I was still able to make it home for the play off games.
It was at about this time that I started bringing knitting over to Pap's. (See, I told you...if you just hung in long enough.) I have had a life long struggle with my weight, and Pap's is temptation city. Between the beer and the homemade soup, the bread from the local bakery (not to mention the cookie cake), the bottomless bowl of pretzles or chips 'n dip that sit right in front of me, not to mention the tension and excitement of a game, I would leave every week absolutely stuffed. Bringing my knitting gave me something to do with my hands. Scarves, sweaters, hats. The project didn't matter, just as long as I had something to keep my hands busy.
Now I'm home in Pittsburgh for the duration it seems. Justin said last night that watching the game felt weird somehow, that it didn't seem like it was the start of the season. "I'm here," I said. "How many times in our entire relationship have I been with you for the first game?" "Wow...none." Here the local stations not only broadcast the games, but have an entire 2 hours of local pre-game hype before each event. But with the Steelers being the champs this year, it seems as if they'll never play on Sunday afternoon. Thursday night games, Monday night games. Anything for the mighty advertising buck. But every game will be watched. And every game will have knitting.
Every year around this time, the local knit shops start stocking Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock in Bee Stripe. After several years of temptation, I finally bit and bought a few skeins. Instead of working on whatever strikes my fancy during the games, I present you with...
The Steelers Mojo Socks! I cast on during the aforementioned Local Pre-Game Hype so that I got the distracting part out of the way before kick-off.
First-half action: The Mojo socks suffered a set-back during the middle of the first quarter when I did too many toe increases and had to tink back several rows.
By halftime, however,
Success!!
End of Game 1, Steelers 28, Dolphins 17.
Toe increases complete, foot well under way.
No moment in the Highlands today. It will return in the next entry.
Thursday, September 7, 2006
Labor Day's Labors
It's been a busy week here at the new house. We spent the Labor Day weekend getting the dining room painted.
My french doors! You can't have them!
I love the color. It's calm, it's refreshing. We're going to be craving Shamrock Shakes until March.
The plan was that I'd move on in the next week to the living room, but I tore something in my shoulder on Sunday wrestling one of those spring-loaded curtain rods back into the windows. Tonight we'll move all the furniture back into the dining room and start cleaning things out of the living room. That'll be this weekend. Thank God! Wait til you see the before picture. :-P
There's been knitting, real knitting, going on here as well! During our day on Loch Ness (day five without luggage) we stopped into this little needlework shop in Fort Augustus on the southern tip of the Loch. While they focused mostly on needlepoint, they did have a small basket of yarn, mostly sock yarn. I picked up a sock kit with a skein of gorgeous blue Opal and some Inox dpns, size 1 (where have these needles BEEN all my life???). I also picked up a skein of Lana Grossa Meilenweit. The line is called Inca, the color number is 6536. A quick google search reveals that this yarn seems really hard to find online.
I was looking for something more local (being in a country filled with sheep), but by this point, I had been asking a lot of craft stores if there were places to find yarn, they all mentioned bigger cities that were not on our itinerary.
I cast on the Lana Grossa shortly after we got home. I absolutely love these.
Sock knitting seems to be something that you develop a philosophy about. Toe up or toe down? DPNs or 2 circulars? Picot edge (that seems to be going around)? Thick padded heel or regular heel? Once you find a pattern, you're very monogamous, eventually memorizing the pattern.
I decided to try the Widdershins pattern from Knitty, and I have to say that I think this one's a keeper. I love toe up socks (I'm all about the love today) as I can try them on at pretty much any point to see how I'm doing. I had to adjust the size for my wider feet, but I had everything pretty well figured out by the second sock. I like the heel with a little extra padding, which was lacking from the toe-up percentage sock pattern that had been my favorite.
Ready to cast on for another pair.
And now, your moment in the Highlands.
Urquhart Castle, near Drumnadrochit, Invernesshire. The castle on the shores of Loch Ness It was during this day that our innkeeper spent the entire day getting the run around on our behalf, trying to find our luggage. She was unnsuccessful. All we knew by the end of this day (the same day I bought the yarn) was that the day before last, the luggage had reached Inverness Airport (a half hour drive away), and that it was "on it's way." Riiiight.
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