knit and tonic

Talk About Luxury

So I was standing with the other moms at a kid's party--a little girl's tea-party type birthday party this past Sunday--and we were standing there talking about things, about how well some of the kids are doing on their spelling tests, etc.

[BTW: Know that HWWV is pacing behind me right now, waxing on about Spam, and not the e-mail type, so I'm having trouble concentrating, hearing about how his grandfather used to fry it all up.]

Anyway, we were waiting for the girls to eat cake and someone asks me how I do it, how Girlfriend does well on her spelling tests and whatnot, because . . . there just isn't enough time in the day to study, etc. So I ask her what time they all get home and they say 7:30 p.m. or later, and I tell them that we come home right after school and then we sit down and work on the stuff and then it's over, and then we play and make dinner.

"So she's not into Karate and all that?"

"No, not Karate, but she does have an art class and a dance class."

"But that's during school hours, not after school."

"She's five." I say.

And then the mom with the Chanel flats and the $800 or more LV bag gives me a glare and a nice-type sneer and declares: "You stay home, don't you! What a complete and total and luxury!"

Tell me about it.

So here's what I have been working on. I know, I'm all glammed up to high heaven but let me tell you, the outift didn't really work out with the lighting we had because this happens to be a short sleeve crop-top and the black undershirt doesn't show like it should. At any rate, the pattern is ready; it has been tech edited, but we still need to find a time to photograph it correctly and in such a way as to not to draw stares. (I have instructions for long sleeves in the pattern, too, BTW.)

Trussing

The other day we were at the local Verizon store and while we waited and waited for a salesperson to help us, I stood next to a guy who was fiddling with one of the display phones and he managed to break the security-ish stand it was attached to. So I stood there and watched him try to figure out a way to reattach the phone to the display unit and he fiddled and fiddled and fiddled but couldn't fix it. A little later, I overheard him complain to the salesperson that he couldn't figure out how to use his phone. "That's why we offer classes on the subject," said the salesperson.

Turns out, the man was that dude who played MacGyver all those years. (For some reason, I feel like I've already told you this story. If so, sorry. It's Saturday but it feels like Sunday. I'm a little mixed up.)

But about double points. There are some knitters who really "get" them. For some reason, I don't. I have a set in nearly every needle size except for anything above a US 10 or so, but the only thing I ever use them for is to do I-cords or maybe a quick something or other. It's just that I learned, after so many attempts, that no matter what I do, I get those ladders running up the sides of whatever it is that I'm working on. Cat Bordhi (Socks Soar on Two Circular Needles) showed me how to use two circulars instead, and now my life has changed.

Thanksgiving was great. Girlfriend is at the age where she can help me cook, and here is what seems to be the obligatory BIL party pic.

Thank You

Had I figured out what the heck "NaBloPoMo" stood for, like at least 19 days ago, I may have written more blog posts this month, but consider it a gift from me to you. I just spent the last 20 minutes arguing with a five-year old about what the correct words are to "Up on the Roof Top," so if my current routine is any indication, you're better off.

Worse, I think Girlfriend is right. That line, "Ho, ho, ho, who will/would go/know; ho, ho, ho, who will/would go/know. . ."

Pick the correct phrase. I think I'm the one in the wrong, so I just got her some juice and tried to change the subject to something less controversial, like if corporal punishment is right or wrong, or if the height minimum should change on Disney's Matterhorn ride.

Happy Thanksgiving to all. I am thankful to all of you for all that you have given me. I'll see you in a few.

On Large Windows and the Grace of Hand-Knitted Goods

I don't know what the score is on those UV/mirrored films you can ask a window guy to apply to your windows. We replaced our couch this week and part of the reason, but not the entire reason, is that that it faded something awful in our sunshine-y home. The other part of the reason and still not the entire part, is that our nasty/nosy neighbor, (she turned up at my yoga joint the other day!) keeps looking through her windows and into our huge ones, the ones we thought were so drama-tique when we viewed the model home but realized very soon after the big move-in that, not only were they drama-tique, they left our whole entire life in view of someone who has nothing better to do but watch us.

Even more, she had a nice, big tree growing there on the side of our house in front of our drama-tique set of windows. The thing was getting so huge I almost started feeling comfortable turning on the light at night as I crept down the hallway to check on Girlfriend. Next thing I know, she calls up the tree people and has them cut the sucker down to the nub.

Today over tacos, we mused about how we could plant a big shrub or something like that to block the view from her bathroom window. HWWV told me that it was a definite possibility, but requested just one more mooning session there, in her line of vision, before we take the dive.

Plus, I have a huge, empty Beefeater Gin box waiting for the opportunity. I figure I could set it there on the grass right next to him as he gets the mooning thing out of his system.

Ah yes, our life.

The hats you see here are various and sundry ones I've knit over the past few years. There are many more, but these are the ones I knit but no one ever wore. So, I'm sending them to Christie for the folks at Cornerstone, whose mission is to break the cycle of domestic violence (they will help out affected people's pets, too). I hope these caps will warm someone's head rather than make them sweat like a dog like we do over here in California. But that really isn't the point of it, is it? That I should send a knit cap to someone because we'd sweat otherwise? What matters is, that someone whose darkest or reasonably dark day will be lit up by a hand-knit something or other.

(When Girlfriend lay naked in a plastic tray in the neonatal intensive care unit as a teeny tiny premature infant for months, an anonymous knitter made us a little bubble-blanket out of pastel variegated acrylic baby yarn. I wept when it came to us.)

When No One Was Looking

I bet you that woman wearing the expensive yoga outfit in today's Hatha (1) class swore that she'd never toot twice during a crowded class but did it anyway. Kind of like me, when I said I wouldn't knit a sweater out of the Noro like all the other ladies at the LYS seem to be doing lately for fear I'd show up at some bonfire or something like that in a matching sweater.

But I did it anyway.

I thought I was going to get away with doing it when no one was looking, but it has turned out so nicely I want to show it off. It's something I cast on for after spotting another Noro project someone was working on out of the Cashmere Island. And in spite of my earlier and probably ongoing prejudice of groupie projects I just couldn't help myself. I mean, the Cashmere Island is just too grand to pass up. Even better, I cast on and knit it without a pattern, so there are no numbers to worry about. I didn't even take a measurement. Whether I end up with something wearable, no one will know until I bind off the last stitch. And based on my recent track record with FO's, I may never finish it. But, like that woman who forgot to take her Beano today, I will probably finish it even though I said I wouldn't knit one of these sweaters in the first place, and even though I just said I probably wouldn't finish it.

So all you folks who swear you'll never knit a pair of socks or gloves on teeny tiny needles, or a sweater out of the Noro just like everyone else seems to be doing, beware. There will be a day when a certain yarn calls out to you and next thing you know you're casting on for a project you swore you'd never knit.

I will say, however; I will never ever, ever knit a table cloth, a thong, or one of those round lacy shawls. Not ever.

BTW: It's not your imagination. I do indeed have a self-tanner streak in the middle of my chest.

Time to Knit More Hats/Caps/Whatnot

There's something about a sink-full of knit caps. They seem so sloshy and squishy and you wonder if they'll ever revert to their old shape again. Most of all, you hope that after you wash them they'll sit on someone's head someday, someone's cold head, someone other than yourself, because the weather sort of stood you up, and your heart was in the right place when you knit the stitches first of all. Kind of like that one guy you liked, the one who said he'd take you out, but you ended up at the Bob's Big Boy instead of where you thought you'd be with him at the end of the night, and after two of those thick chocolate shakes he announced he forgot his wallet and then said: "Hey, the gas is low on the VW, too, and would you refill it at the station across the street after you pay for the shakes? . . The gas is only one-fifdy a gallon."

Beyond that, my sister and her husband came over for HWWV's birthday on Sunday. HWWV and BIL brought home our new couch, too. This won't be our first one because we had some funky warranty on another one that gave us a nice credit, so no, we aren't spending money like crazy, just in case you know where I live and want to rob the joint. Actually, this was a floor model and there's a chair that came with it (in another room; I don't like  the matchy-matchy).

And this is why I love my sister: When she came over and her husband helped mine bring in the new couch and chair and I complained that my hair has been thinner than ever before and I wished that it was like it used to be, and I admitted that I bought some of those 60-dollar hair extensions, she insisted on clamping them in. They're gone now, but hey, a girl's gotta dream.

BTW: I've listened to you and decided that yes, all my unworn but lovingly knitted caps need to go somewhere. Christie wrote to me and suggested that I send them to her so they can go to Cornerstone in Bloomington, Minnesota, an organization for abused women and their children. Normally, I don't talk about this kind of stuff, but then after I visited the link, I discovered that this organization sits very near the place I was born.

Although most all of my caps have been worn just about once for a photo or two, and I knit them with the utmost cheer and in hopes that someone I know would wear one of them, alas, the weather just doesn't allow it. Therefore, the children and womenfolk should have them, instead of me and mine. If you have stuff sitting around that you knit with the utmost cheer like me, send it on. If you want to knit something fresh, do that too. That's the cool thing about handknits: It's ours while we knit it, but then there's also a feeling deep in our hearts that someone will enjoy it kind of like we enjoyed knitting it.

And anyway, you know what it means to unload the stuff: It's time to knit MORE hats!

When you Have a Couch in your Yard

When you have a couch in your front yard, everyone knows that you used to have that same couch in your house. They know that you have been living with that couch, the one with the rip along the side, the rip you've been trying to hide for years with careful coffee table placement, the drape of a throw, or a stack of books.

They know that your closet is a mess, too, when they look at that couch. They know that your closet is a mess like they know that your fridge needs cleaning. They know that your sink is full of dirty dishes because you haven't yet emptied the dishwasher.

I don't know how, but the people who see that couch in my yard also know about the 23-odd unfinished knitting projects here and there. Some stacked in front of the other couch in the family room, some sitting in bags, some sitting in an absolutely not-needed but cute anyway plastic container with metal feet, the sweater that would be complete if I'd just focus for awhile and complete the second sleeve.

And that old, faded picture sitting on top of that couch in the yard tells them even more. I asked HWWV to put that picture out there for the bulky garbage pick up but he didn't turn it so onlookers couldn't see. I'd go out there and turn it around so it doesn't face the street myself, but for some reason I'm stuck inside, looking out the window at it and praying no one passes by. (Maybe he didn't think about it because his closet is clean? Or is it because he faithfully uses those cedar shoe trees?)

I have that couch in my yard and, for some reason, it is paralyzing.

When Shrinkage is a Good Idea

The problem with getting all fevered up over a knitting project is, that as you revel so much in your enjoyment of knitting it--in this case--the Short Row Hat, you tend to forget about some of those insignificant side issues like gauge, scale, yarn substitutions and whether or not you should use almost an entire ball of yarn on a pom-pom.

Remember what I said about my itch in my last post? Let's just say, that particular itch has been scratched.

And please don't tell me that my pom-pom is too large. My gauge was off on that, too. (I figured that out when I tried on the hat and my neck nearly snapped from the weight of it.)

The good news is, I think I may have saved the project, though. Silk Garden felts really slowly in the washer. I put it through at least three rounds in the Super Duper Fast Swirling Action Cycle, or whatever it is you call it when you're talking washing machine lingo, and it looks a bit better. I tried it on again while it was still damp and I think it could be a bit smaller, so it's now going through a round of tumble dry on HOT.

Mr. Pom-Pom didn't get the felting treatment, just so you know.

And just in case you are all sprinting for your needles, I used the Noro Silk Garden in color number 245. You'll need one skein plus a little more of the second. The remainder of your skein can be used to make a giant pom-pom. Modifications: Subbed yarn and knit it in the wrong gauge. Made a giant pom-pom that can be used as a hat blocking device in the future (same size as a human head), skipped the final crown work--just threaded a needle and thread through the center stitches and cinched it closed, and said a little prayer.

No need to thank me for the information; I'm a giver.

I Have a Fever, and the Prescription is Another Short Row Cap

It's looking kind of big for my head, but gosh knows, unless I go on the Price is Right or the Wheel of Fortune (MIL's fave---she's going to be here soon) and win some sort of contest that awards me with a trip to somewhere with temps that dip below, say 40 degrees Fahrenheit, I won't be wearing this cap. Thing is, though, I want to make about five of them back to back and the yarn on the ground you see here is lined up so as soon as I finish this one, I can start a second (although the jury is still out if the Noro Silk Garden is the right stuff to knit this particular accessory).

Why do I want to do more than one? I don't know why. I guess it has to do with the fact that this Short Row Hat by Veronik Avery is probably one of the most joyful knits I've fallen for in a long time. I know that the colors of this yarn don't line up perfectly. I know that I have mis-counted a few stitches here and there, but who cares? As far as I'm concerned, this pattern is Absolute Genius Shite, and I'll be a knitting fool for forever for this pattern in spite of the fact that this particular cap will only sit on my head for a photo shoot, if that.

Actually, that's a sad thought: That I won't be able to wear it. I wonder why I knit like I do, come to think of it. Why do I knit like I do? I'm sitting here knitting like one of those people who recites multiplication tables out loud and can count beans in a jar without spilling them first, or like that gal at my gym who drops whatever she's doing whenever a Britney Spears video is displayed so she can mimic all the moves and mouth Britney's lyrics along to the song, there by all the ab machines.

I think I'm sort of like that. I have an itch I can't scratch.

I have an itch I can't scratch and I don't want to scratch it because if I scratch it I won't want to knit anymore, at least not in the way I want to knit when I knit this here Short Row Hat.

BTW: If you want to try this pattern and haven't worked short rows before, don't be afraid. It is made with yarn overs, so when you turn to the other side, you simply yarn over and continue working that side. Later, if you're following the directions (unlike me as I tend to fall asleep at the wheel), you'll simply knit two together or purl two together in the back loops to hide your wraps. It's all pretty easy. Just print out the pattern and have a pencil handy to keep your place. I figure this first cap is my "test" cap. The next one will be perfect. (Yeah, right; in my dreams.)

Entrelac or Repaint? That is the Question.

I've written and rewritten this post about five times so I'm just going to say it straight: I have an itch to knit the Entrelac and although I know better than to knit the Entrelac (not always as flattering on the body as we'd like it to be) I think I might dip my toe in. Yeah, I know I won't like wearing it, but knitting it might be interesting, and heck, can I really call myself a knitter if I don't at least try it?

(probably)

There I said it: I might be knitting the Entrelac.

Thing is, I'm not sure why. I don't know if I really love how it looks or drapes, but it just seems like it's "time" for me to give it a shot.

I suppose it's a good thing I'll be trying a pair of Annetrelac socks, first. (Have you seen the ones in the latest IK Holiday Issue?) I suppose starting out with socks means you can always wear them no matter what unless you'll be wearing them with a bikini or some sort of crazy jean cut-offs without your pink Uggs.

But if I were to be knitting an Entrelac skirt or jacket, I may just have to give out my address so one or two of you could come on over, pick me up, drive me out to the closest desert and either shoot me dead, wave a huge machete in front of me, or threaten me with a cactus bush, you know: give me a real good scare because I should know better than knitting a skirt of a jacket out of the Entrelac.

Yeah, I should know better. Come to think of it, my mom would have told me, if she were alive, that the Entrelac looks like a lot of fun but perish the thought of actually wearing it.

Heh. It's so funny. I'm hearing this inside my head from a woman who, a very long time ago, talked me into wearing a yellow gingham nightgown to an eighth-grade summer dance. She convinced me it looked like a real dress, so I wore it. Thing is, as cute as it was, the only thing I can remember is that, during the Cotton-Eyed-Joe, someone stepped on the back of it, and next thing I knew, I was naked down to the waist. At least the lights were turned down.

I'll very likely use one of the colorways you see here for the socks I'm talking about. I just got this sock yarn from Avery Allison Yarns. (They are having a sale right now, so check it out.) It's superwash and a great price. I can't believe how soft and sproingy the stuff is. My experience with superwash is that it can feel a bit "grainy." This stuff isn't at all. It's, well, lofty. Here's a picture of the proprietor's daughter. She's wearing a feather and fan scarf out of the Sweet Pea colorway.

(I miss my mom. If she were still here, she'd say something like, "Entrelac? Wouldn't you rather re-paint your living room?" That's exactly what she would say. I miss miss miss miss miss miss miss her. And yes, my living room could use another coat of paint, come to think of it.)