Drape

I’ve been doing a fair amount of secret knitting, which means that for blogging, there is far less to report in the short run. It does mean that I’m excited about these projects, and really hoping to show you the results sooner rather than later.

In the meantime, I’m doing summer knitting, and this summer, in addition to lace, and socks and the like, it also means summer fibers – and linen. To the woolly oriented knitter, linen can be a shock to knit. A standard knit yarn has no bounce to it at all. It feels like string, and often like twine (ouch!). But linen’s properties are so wonderful once thrown into the washing machine and put through the dryer (can you believe it?), that the knitter, perhaps like women who manage to forget the pain of childbearing, are willing to forget the agonies that got them something like this:

Now, some clever yarn manufacturers, in this case, ShiBui, have figured out how to minimize discomfort in linen knitting. They have created a tube of linen, and this tube is

1. much easier on the hands
2. has a bit of stretch because of the i-cord like tube

It’s been a few years since I knit with linen, but even I was happily surprised about my experience with this ShiBui Linen yarn. And the drape, oh my!

Simple, lovely, linen!

FO: Stranded sweater

Now that the Elizabeth Zimmermann EPS sweater has been wet-blocked, it looks even better:

There’s a hint of a line where the graft is, but not so noticeable that the wearer will be embarrassed, and let’s face it, this is miles ahead of where the sweater was before.

Patient is resting comfortably.

In the last post, we left a lovely all but in the middle sweater awaiting surgery:

This knittng surgeon is happy to repor that the patient is resting comfortably. Here’s how it went.

1. With a circular needle, thread the circular into each stitch on the row below the stripe.  This went uneventfully (sorry, no photo).
2. Do the same for the row immediately above the stripe. Here I deviated from the orginal plan. I decided to just keep the big stripe on the top of the sweater – the stripe acts as waste yarn and holds the stitches that I want to graft in place
3. Carefully pull out all the stitches of the first and last row of the stripe (save yarn for something else!).  I only pulled out the bottom row of the stripe. This is how the sweater looks in its two parts:

Vaguely unsettling to see the sweater like this – almost like an amputation.

1. With the bottom of the sweater, knit the same number of rows as the stripe.

But queasiness aside, I moved on to knitting the fill-in inches of the body on the bottom part of the sweater.

1. Options here:
   1. Take a couple of long pieces of yarn and graft the two rows together
   2. Do a three-needle bind off with the two pieces.

I started with the grafting method – and it worked beautifully. Partly it is that this is a nice wool (this part of the sweater is in the reliable Cascade 200 Heathers) that has bounce and give, and partly it happens to be a dark color that will be forgiving of all the wonkiness. I grafted together the two parts of the sweater with about 3 shorter lengths of yarn like this:

Then I unraveled the old stripe with a “rip it” method.

There were a few places on the last round where the plies had been caught by the darning needle, they were snipped and I moved on. This is a little pile that will go into another project:

And the sweater? Pre-blocking it looks pretty good already. Patient is awaiting the weaving of ends and blocking.

Summary: This was not as bad as I feared – and the outcome totally worth it!

My sweater needs by-pass surgery.

I’m on sweater number 5 for the current Afghans for Afghans campaign – the goal is to to knit 500 sweaters for the coming winter for a girls school.  Five sweaters is 1% of the needed number – I’m finally a 1 percenter!!!

I started the sweater not terribly sure what I was going to do once I finished the body and sleeves up to the armhole. I did dye a bit of some nameless wool yarn I got years ago that I turned into some socks back when, and started with some simple colorwork on the body:

and I did a little at the end of the sleeves as well to coordinate:

After I finished the up-to-the-armhole parts, I decided to do an Elizabeth Zimmermann EPS sweater, with a circular yoke. It came out really well, which is good, because I winged the entire thing – and always magically had the right number of stitches for whatever stitch pattern I made up:

But it is in need of surgery – fortunately within my own competency. See?

I cannot explain why I thought a big-ol’ stripe in the middle of all of the lovely colorwork was a good idea. It might have been with another yoke pattern, but not this one. It must go. Yes, the sweater will be worn in Afghanistan, but there are standards to be maintained! Dear Reader, here’s what I’m going to do:

1. With a circular needle, thread the circular into each stitch on the row below the stripe.
2. Do the same for the row immediately above the stripe.
3. Carefully pull out all the stitches of the first and last row of the stripe (save yarn for something else!).
4. With the bottom of the sweater, knit the same number of rows as the stripe.
5. Options here:
   1. Take a couple of long pieces of yarn and graft the two rows together
   2. Do a three-needle bind off with the two pieces.

I think I’ll have to test out each of the methods. The grafting will be difficult to make even, the three-needle bind-off will leave a ridge. At least the yarn is very dark and whatever the issues, they won’t be too noticeable.

The patient awaits – but I think I need to get a lot of sleep before doing this “major surgery”!

Birth-day

I was born 55 years ago today.  As I was pondering the meaning of this, and my gratefulness to my parents, and yearning for someone to remember this day with, I opened a card from good friend-of-my-mom-and-now-me Bonny (she of Vintage Knit), who thoughtfully remembered the day from her point of view, which was to be taking in my brother while my parents headed to the hospital.

It’s a day when I am remembering the sweetness of life, and the quickness of time passing. At 55, I am pretty sure I’ve passed the half-way point of my life on earth. I am now the last one of my immediate family, and plenty of resources to choose the next things in life. It is a turning moment, a time to glance around and get perspective.

Two days ago I headed to the De Young Museum to see The Girl with a Pearl Earring exhibit – along with an exhibit on Rembrandt and etchings. I confess, I found the etchings to be tedious, and sighed a bit of relief when I got to the paintings with their riot and swirls of color. The room with the eponymous painting in it — marvelous! I spoke with one of the docents later, and she remarked that with this painting, “you know that you are going to miss seeing this girl when you leave the painting.”

Afterwards, I wandered up to the top floor of the museum which has pretty amazing views of the city and environs.  And I got perspective:

Some of the most interesting things I saw were in fact reflections – the indirect way of seeing:

On this birth-day,

a day which I will never remember but defines who I am,

I can only see the reflection,

but that is enough,

more than enough.

Mindless Knitting

Just a quick photo – this is a new pattern called Gradiente from the folks at Manos – proof that simple does not necessarily mean dorky:

This will be a birthday present – it’s somewhere between a shawl and a scarf!

Emerson’s Notion of Success

 

 

My mother carried this quote from Emerson in her wallet for many years:

The definition of success—

To laugh much;

to win respect of intelligent persons

and the affections of children;

to earn the approbation of honest critics

and endure the betrayal of false friends;

to appreciate beauty;

to find the best in others;

to give one’s self;

to leave the world a little better,

whether by a healthy child,

a garden patch,

or a redeemed social condition.;

to have played and laughed with enthusiasm,

and sung with exultation;

to know even one life has breathed easier

because you have lived

–this is to have succeeded.

  – Ralph Waldo Emerson