knit and tonic

On Having an Opinion about the Shawl.

There's something about going to the yarn store and exchanging yarn you don't need for more yarn that you don't need.

You gotta love it, really. And honestly, if you didn't, you'd probably kill yourself instead. This yarn thing is taking over my life and to tell you the truth, except for the fact that the usual path I take from my bed to my computer (across the house) is being overrun by yarn, yarn accessories, books and laundry, it's all good.

I was sort of surprised that there were so many comments about shawls this past post. Thing is, I am a little wary of talking too much about them. Many of you are, shall we say, *Sensitive?* about shawl-wearing and all the stuff that goes along with it (like shawl pins, for example, and whether or not they are art or they are function because in my book, never the two shall truly meet in a good way).

But I've had a bad day. I received some bad news about a family member (my late mom's husband). He's in terrible trouble--gravely ill--and I'm sad.

So I figure I deserve a break. Plus, my head is still spinning from the vertigo. So, I'm going to take a moment and tell you what I really think about shawls. And, as usual. I will tell nothing but the truth. If I hurt someone's feelings, please accept my apologies in advance. Usually, if I don't have something at least half-cheeky or half-nice to say, I avoid talking about it altogether. But today, it's gonna be all about shawls and I'm not holding back.

Warning: Beginning of Shawl Opinion

Shawl wearing is for grannies and for the people who take risks. If you are neither, do not attempt to wear a shawl. If you consider your shawl a work of art, hang it on a wall. Don't bother with the shoulders part.

Shawls are for people who are feeling a slight chill. Furthermore, shawl's do not need a piece of jewelry like a shawl pin. A shawl pin, in my mind, is an excuse to wear a shawl pin. So, there's obviously no need to wear one. I already wear a ring and earrings sometimes, so why should I add a  shawl pin? It's like this, friends: I will not wear a matching set of earrings, bracelet and necklace (one will do well on its own). Similarly, I will not wear two hand-knitted items at once unless they are a pair of socks or a pair of mittens or possibly a hat and a scarf (that do not match). I'm a risk taker but not that big of a risk taker.

But you say, "Shawl pins are so pretty! Artisans make them! Why would you shun the shawl pin?" Shawl pins, other than the fact that I consider them a bad excuse for jewelry, I tend not to like them. Sorry for that info. I just don't. Part of it comes from the idea that the shawl pin might snag the shawl. It will, in my mind, also weigh the thing down. And heck: Who needs a shawl pin? Just tie the shawl around your neck and be off with your bad self! (And anyway, if you really like the shawl pins, go ahead and wear one; who cares what I think? Or, if you really, really like the way they look, hang one on your wall next to your shawl.)

Do not drape a shawl. Do not "display" it. That's what they make chairs and those quilt racks for. Or, if showing it off is your goal, take a picture of it and put it in your brag book.

Throw on your shawl and wrap it around you. Tie it up. Wrap it around and around and around yourself. I like them when they have weight. I do not want one made of lace. I do not want one with scary bits that might get hooked on a rosebush or little kid. I want one with oomph. I want one to wear in bed (I do that) and I want one that's heavy and solid and will actually keep me warm. I want to tie it in a tight, thick knot in front.

I do not want to knit a shawl that compels me to throw a party when I finally complete it. And most of all: I do not want a shawl that needs to be "blocked" into perfect little points with those teeny tiny pins.

End of shawl opinion.

(Thank you for your attention and your restraint.)

Household Items on Parade

I was just thinking that knitting for the sake of knitting and not throwing your heart and soul into it makes for a pretty empty experience. I guess that is why I never knit something I don't want to. Even for the you-know. Every single thing in there is something I'd wear myself. Come to think of it, everything in there, I've knit with myself in mind. Heh. It'll probably sell one copy (to me).

I was also just thinking that I find guys who wear those visors--you know--the ones that don't cover the top of the head--terribly unattractive. I guess I can see that you might want to wear one of those things while playing poker in the sunshine and don't want to heat up the top of your head too much. That could be an approved use, I suppose. But if you happen to be a guy who wears one of those visors and know all the moves to the Britney video: Ooops! I Did it Again, then I gotta draw the line.

But back to knitting things I don't want to knit. I never, ever ever ever want to knit underwear. I never ever ever ever want to knit a bathing suit, either. (Long time readers will remember that I started one, but thankfully, I never finished it. I guess at the time I was operating under some sort of delusion that I was 18, had a belly button that was less than 1.245 inches deep and heralded from either Miami or Brazil.)

But I do want to knit another shawl--this time a rectangular one--because I use them all the time. I want to knit more socks (photo up top is of the Embossed Leaves socks in Koigu; pattern from Favorite Socks by Interweave) and I want to knit some mittens for Girlfriend, but maybe for next year.

Problem is, the list grows each hour. Each hour as I sit here working on patterns and taking breaks and knitting for myself, something pops into my head and next thing I know, I'm hankering for another something to knit. It could be I'm always searching for some sort of fulfillment outside myself, but you know what? I don't really care. Knitting, at least, is a reasonably healthy way to deal with your issues, and I suppose as long as you don't have more than 12 FO's haunting you or following you around your house (and hiding in houseplants or sneaking up on you in the dark and saying "BOO!") you're doing alright.

Just be careful where you pose your knits. Posing them in strange places, well, that's an entirely different post altogether.

BTW: If you want to knit Flair, Kpixie.com is offering a kit which will give you a bit of a savings on the BSA Dyed Cotton. Also, note that I added a little something in the Sidebar under "Pattern Updates." I have seen a few Flairs knitted up now and especially if you sub yarn, you may end up wanting to add more of a flair to the sleeves. Instructions for adding stitches to the sleeves rather than subtracting just a few is covered on the update.

Living Life as if it Were a Song

There's something about being on the coast that brings me back to the time I went on a sailing trip with a stranger.

He was a friend of a boyfriend and he was from Panama and needed someone to practice with him because he was to be in some sort of a race in his 14-foot sailboat soon. Thing is, my boyfriend who was to be co-captain, or whatever you call it, was sick and called me and suggested I go in his place.

Not knowing how to sail, his friend, who happened to live down the street from me, said in response that it was alright and he would tell me what to do. It was the windiest day of the year so far, yet I can remember that he assured me that it would be okay.

So we sailed and I can remember what I wore. I wore some Sperry Topsiders in a nice chocolate brown with white soles.  I had some khaki clam diggers (or at least my mom would have called them that) and a Lacoste polo shirt in boys' size large. Color: A not-too-dainty salmon.

So he put me in the trapeze the sailboat came with and told me to put my feet on the edge so, when it tilted, my body weight would weigh it back down, keeping us from capsizing.

(Did anyone tell him that a girl of 17 and about 110 pounds can't keep a 14-footer from capsizing in 35-mile an hour winds?)

So we tilted, and I threw all my weight in the opposite direction hanging off the side in that trapeze and screamed bloody murder into the wind with all my might and before we finally tipped over, he let go of the boom. It swung in my direction, hit me on the head and knocked me overboard. And then the boat flipped over on top of me and pinned me under the water.

I can remember how quiet it was there, under water, and I remember that my mouth was only an inch or two from the surface but the trapeze tangled around my legs and held me under.

I looked around in the blurry Spring cold water--except I could see him sitting on the edge of the boat above, looking for me. As I gazed up at him above water, I decided it was okay that things would turn out this way. Honestly, in a matter of seconds, I decided it really wasn't so strange that this would happen. What joy: No future to worry about. Who needs college? The cold felt so good. In fact, the only thing I can compare it to is a face pressed against cold glass.

Yeah, well, I lived through it, and I have forgotten the boy's name in spite of the thousand or so minutes of late-night phone calls with "Peter Frampton Comes Alive" booming on the record player in the background, while discussing our ordeal. Come to think of it, I don't even remember the handsome men from the Coast Guard who rescued me.

The only thing I do know is the Koigu. That Koigu. It sure does sing through the old fingers, doesn't it?

A Tale from a Nice Lutheran Girl

Approximately 22 years ago to this day: Picture it, morning time. All of us in our tint-stained nurse uniforms at the local beauty college. I think I was nearing the end of the California required 1600-hour stint, and at this point in my beauty career, I was allowed to do a full-on roller set, tint, or hair cut from start to finish, including the hair-washing part at the bowl.

The thing about beauty college in these parts in the 1980's is that there were very few fun hair cuts that needed to be done. Sure, we had a perm or two, and lots and lots of color-work, but all this was performed on the older set, the ones who lived at the senior center a two-block walk or bus ride up the street.

So this particular morning 22 years or so ago today, they were waiting at the door when we opened at 10. Lots and lots of the seniors waiting for their roller sets, comb outs, perms and rinses. I got down to the business of an Italian Top on one of my regulars. As I washed her hair, I noticed a smudge on her forehead and used my right thumb to rub it off while I lathered.

Next gal, this time a simple finger wave and a tint with her regular color, "Pretty Beaver," (I tell no lies). And, wouldn't you know, this gal had a dirty forehead, too? So off the smudge came with a couple flicks of my trusty right thumb.

Next one up, this time an older gent. He needed a haircut that included the obligatory ear-hair trim. While washing his hair, I noted a smudge, too, but his was smaller. Off it came.

"Sheesh," I whispered to my friend Lori (a.k.a. "Boom Boom"), "these people! Don't they wash their faces?

It's a good thing Boom Boom was a nice Catholic girl and explained to me the situation.

It's also a good thing my clients, well at least most of them, had questionable eyesight and an easy-going nature.

And come to think of it, I don't know how the heck I got here, writing this post. I don't know how the chain of events brought me here, kvetching about yarn and old times and knitting like a banshee. It's almost obscene, really. And as I write the you-know, I keep thinking to myself: I'm the last person on earth who should be doing this! I used to do hair! I teased hair! I treated blackheads!

Okay. The vertigo: After performing these funky maneuvers the past couple days, I'm feeling much better. I had a bad couple nights and a few nights in the past couple weeks that were horrid, but I'm hoping soon I'll be able to sleep while laying down, rather than propped up on a zillion pillows. I guess I should look at the bright side and figure this is good practice for sleeping sitting up, should the need ever arise.

I have a picture up top of the yarns that are up to bat, so to speak. Although I haven't been spending much time knitting for myself, I did look in my studio for some yarns that speak to me right now and that have potential to be a little item for me or for Girlfriend or for a friend. At the very bottom is the BSA Melange, it could be a Clementine or something I make up; then there's the Vesper Sport weight in a colorway called "Sunflower," that would make some wonderful fingerless mitts; there's the fingering-weight Lana's Puras merino in "Desert Bloom," possibly a nice tightly-knit scarf of some sort; and Scout's Swag superwash merino in "Orchids." I think the Scout's Swag could easily become Jaywalker Socks, but I don't know. I'm not someone who likes to think while knitting socks.

Fashion Sense

Man Alive. You work your fingers to the bone knitting some perfectly good sweaters for your daughter and what does she do?

She refuses to wear them, claiming they're too warm or the wrong color, and insists she wear these legwarmers wherever she goes, instead.

BTW: I might be quiet for a day or two. I have a bad case of vertigo (called Benign Positional Vertigo) and have to take some medicine (valium) and manage to write a chapter for the you-know in a week's time. Talk about great timing, huh? I guess now I'll get to see if drug use actually improves ones ability to write stunning knitting prose...

The Knitter's Society Jail

An hour or so ago, while writing some commentary to go with a few patterns for the you-know, I got to thinking that, any minute, or in the middle of the night tonight, the Knitter's Society will most definitely pull up in front of the house and whisk me off to Knitter's Jail, or something.

I like to follow the rules, I do. But when I feel like the rules don't make sense, I find it difficult to follow them to the "T." Case in point: Top down knitting and "Why You Must End Up with the Exact Same Number of Stitches on the FRONT as you have on the BACK."

Seems to me, if you are knitting in the round with no seams, and since the fabric is flexible, that you can have more stitches on the back than on the front, or fewer stitches on the back than on the front, etc. etc. etc.

And I'm not talking about scores of stitches either. I'm talking about maybe an inch or so's worth, if that.

Aren't there so-called appendages on the front of a person? Doesn't it make sense that you might need to have more stitches in that area? What if you have a fat back? Are you allowed to make room for that with a grouping of an inch-worth of stitches? And so what if you forget to do an increase for your raglan or whatever in one little spot and you have maybe two fewer stitches on the front than on the back? Would you rip? Or would you tempt the fate of the Knitter's Society Jail and let it all go and be one with your knitting? I mean, none of us is exactly 100 stitches worth of a person on the front and exactly 100 stitches worth of a person on the back. And who's counting, anyway?

Although I've become a big fan of the short rows, they do add a pocket or a poof. They add a pocket or a poof, friends. And honestly, if there are more stitches on the front than on the back, so be it. Call up the authorities. Take me away.

(Come to think of it, a vacation would be nice, so go ahead and take me away; I don't care where you take me.)

So we have a new fish. His name is Jed. When poor Myrtle crumped, I was sad because I thought it was something I did. Worse, I had to watch her die a slow death that lasted from Thanksgiving to about three weeks ago. I asked the gal at Petco what to do about a sick fish who isn't getting better and she suggested pouring either bleach or rubbing alcohol into the water for a quick death.

So, HWWV, Girlfriend and I stood there in shock at her suggestion for a few seconds, considering if we could ever do such a thing. And then, out of the blue, HWWV bent over and whispered in my ear: "Love, I'd definitely go the alcohol route."

At any rate: I have lots of new yarn. I'll tell you what it is and what it is for, but I'm too ashamed to tell you the quantities, because the news is astounding...Starting with the amazing chunky Euroflax Linen at the bottom from kpixie.com...It's so I can finish that linen stitch scarf that ate up a whole hank when the LYS told me I'd need only one. Then, up to the left, the BSA Melange in both a parchment color and a light-ish green. I'll use the parchment for a shawlette, maybe that Clementine everyone's talking about. The green? Who knows. Then there are the skeins of Elann.com's Quechua (purple and orange). Who the heck knows what I'll knit up with that? But it's in a nifty alpaca and tencel blend that I got for less than three bucks a skein. In the back, there's a skein of Crystal Palace's Bunny Hop. It's normally used for baby items, but I love the microfiber stuff and this has a teeny bit of an angora halo--not enough to feel allergic or get it stuck in the mascara--but just enough to make a gal like me feel happy and cozy, but ever so fashionably springy, too. (It's for the book.)

On Peeping

It's official: I finally completely freaked out my neighbor lady. Mind you, she arrived to the party pre-freaked out. It happened before our homes were finished and about two seconds after she spotted HWWV and me looking around the lots and peeking into her side yard before the fences were built.  She was sitting there on a picnic blanket with a couple men in her living room before the walls were up, probably planning her drapes or something like that.

So, tune into seven years later to about now and it looks like she's taken to peeping out her bathroom window down to our backyard. Trust me, I know her layout because I toured the model homes:  She would need to climb up on her sink and hunker down to the window to view what is happening out there. Usually, we know when she's doing her peeping and sometimes we turn up the volume of our conversation and sprinkle in tidbits like this:

HWWV (spotting her peeping through a window or the fence): "I hear that neighborhood THIEF is at it again."

Me (winking back): "YEAH! He's at IT again, and I hear he's ready to HIT the house with all that ROSEMARY growing in the front YARD...the ROSEMARY that wasn't APPROVED by the HOMEOWNER'S ASSOCIATION!"

HWWV: "...And I HEAR he KNOWS how to float above all the TRAILER rocks SHE HAS! I understand he can't be HEARD by anyone!"

Me: "Yup. And he likes SINGLE, OLDER Women who try to CONVINCE her NEIGHBORS that her BROTHER is her FIANCEE!"

HWWV: "Yeah, and WHO has a FIANCEE at age 66 or MORE, for, LIKE, SEVEN YEARS STRAIGHT?"

Me:  HEH! Funny QUESTION!... APPARENTLY our NEIGHBOR seems to have one, but have you SEEN him?"

HWWV: "I don't KNOW! But I HAVE seen an OLD GUY in a GOLD CHRYSLER. He arrives the day BEFORE Christmas and leaves EIGHT hours later...(...Hey, Love,..I'm parched! Hand me ANOTHER DRINK and a COUPLE more CHIPS!...How about some SALSA, TOO!")

Anyway.

Although she has shutters covering that window facing our backyard, it appears she's added a rolled up bath towel for extra protection in the past day or so.

I suppose it could be the loving looks I was giving the camera (I do love my snood; see sidebar for more info) that sent her running for the linen closet, or it could be the idea that her neighbor routinely stands outside with a camera held aloft and takes picture after picture after picture after picture and smiling "just so."

Makes me wonder who's sicker.

At any rate, the snood is a winner. If I had more hair these days--just had about eight inches cut off a month or two ago and I lost a ton for some reason recently--I'd tuck it in. But, this thing doubles nicely as a Beret for Beginners and I'm happy. After I finished it, I ran a length of rainbow elastic through the picot edging.

BTW: I swear I didn't put Chuck there. Oh and another BTW: Do you remember the whole button-finding mission I was on? I heard from a gal who has an Etsy shop and has tons of vintage buttons at her disposal. I've checked her site, and you can see an example of what she carries there, but she reports there are tons more and she'll do a button search for you if you happen to need or want a particular color, size, etc. Here's her link. Visit her shop, Vintage Necessities, and email her if you have a special requirement.

Oh, and another BTW: Jennifer at DomiKNITrix has an errata on her site for the snood. No biggie, really. Just a gauge issue (it should be 16 sts to 4 inches). The rest is cool.

The View From Here

I always feel sorta cheesey when I snap a quick photo of wherever I happen to be for a blog post. Normally, I think ahead for a few minutes and take a deep breath or so, so I give you the right view or the right lighting or grouping so you can see something I think is funny or nice, or just plain funky-cool.

But since I haven't worn a little black dress in just about forever (except for more than a year ago to a Bar Mitzvah, and let's just say I was under-dressed, so it doesn't count) and all the other bloggers in the universe seem to be knitting up little things for their shoulders or what not, I'm thinking it's okay to give you a view from here.

The view from here: The next time I wear a little black dress will more likely than not be this year, and probably not the next. And I won't wear a little shawlette with it, either. I will not wear a little shawlette with it because I will very likely knit a little shawlette in the next few days, once the yarn arrives from my most recent Internet purchase. And, by the time I wear that little black dress, the little hand-knit shawlette that I will knit in the next few days will either be forgotten or sullied by multiple wearings with a holey capped-sleeve t-shirt, a t-shirt I spent way too much on but happens to carry the name of a rock star and has intentional stains and wear caused by a nail file or rocks in a clothes dryer.

(One time, and I think it was about 22 years ago, I sewed a little strapless black dress out of exactly one yard of black satin to wear to an old Beverly Hills haunt. You might be thinking that I was very thin and boy, wouldn't it be great to fit inside just one yard of fabric. But, take a moment and consider that I had a bad perm at the time and some very unfortunate issues with the current antiperspirant of choice.)

Oh, Little Black Dress! I wonder where you are! And I wonder why the heck I'm knitting a shawlette to go with you, you Little Black Dress!

In the Queue

I just abandoned my shopping cart over at Elann.com. It's a good thing I did, because if I went through with it and bought all that Araucania Magallanes, in three short days I would own at least a two and a half pounds of some of the scratchiest wool known to man.

Somehow, the lure of two and a half pounds of cheap yarn is usually too good to be true and I fall for the deal so fast your head would spin. But, after an hour at the local Costco yesterday, well, let's just say I'm semi-cured.

I avoid that place like the plague, but HWWV talked me into going there on the way home from lunch. He said we needed toilet paper, and Costco is just about the best place to buy it. He also said we could use some paper towels, and Costco is just about the best place to buy them. Then, I asked him if we should get some napkins too, but he said, "Nope; you gotta go to IKEA for that."

So off to Costco we went, and I tell you what, if I weren't such a nice person, my car horn would have worn out after three short minutes in the parking lot.

Talk about a bevy of blank-eyed folks stacking things they don't need up to the sky (Now I know why they have such high ceilings in the joint). What person in their right mind would ever use a pack of 16 glue sticks? (Lucky thing I thought twice and put the pack back on the shelf.) And the meat? Let's just say you'd have to have a freezer dedicated to meat in order to justify purchasing their smallest offering.

Come to think of it, I wonder if my love for yarn is strong enough to endure a Yarn Mart similar the likes of Costco.

Heh. You tell me.

BTW: Just checked Elann.com; it looks like almost all of the Magallanes is sold out.

Just My Luck

Some people look through fashion magazines or the latest Anthropologie catalog and dream of wearing the clothes and wonder if they could carry off certain get ups. I mean, you'd have to be a fashion model to get away with most of the ensembles they plaster here and there. And reading the magazines--well looking at them, rather--incites a flurry of emotions and wanton in me that I can't quite describe. It partly has to do with the idea that I could never wear such and such because, honestly, they'd arrest me if I showed up at the co-op preschool in those funky Lanvin high heels and a pair of gauchos. Add to that pairing, one of those billowy cropped sparkly jackets with stove-pipe sleeves, and they'd most definitely put me in solitary.

Fashion is frustrating that way.

But a gal can dream. So I'm knitting up DomiKNITrix's Snood out of the yarn you see here. She did two versions in her book, DomiKnitrix: Whip Your Knitting Into Shape (it's great--see sidebar), one out of the black and one out of the blue, but I thought the red variegated would be fun, and the sparkles are cool, too. I can see it now, me walking Chuck along some fun city street. I'll turn heads wearing this Snood. So, the wind will breeze us along and I'll sway my hips and head upon head upon head will turn my way and smiles will abound. And just when I think I couldn't feel more glee, a man wearing Prada will approach:

"I like your cap," he'll say. "That cap of yours makes me smile."

"Oh yes," I'll retort. "I happen to like it, too. And it makes me smile as well!"

"When I first spotted you, I didn't know why I was smiling ear to ear, but now I know why. It's because your cap reminds me of Mary Tyler Moore."

"I remind you of Mary Tyler Moore?"

"No. You remind me of her best friend, Rhoda. She was a hoot and wore the same type of cap. I think they call it a 'Snood,' by the way."

BTW: I just heard from Jennifer (DomiKnitrix). She tells me that an errata on the pattern will be on her site very soon and to watch for it before you cast on.