knit and tonic

Summer at our House

If it were up to her, Girlfriend would sit in front of the television all day long watching cartoons. And since this is the first summer in years that she will not go to any kind of camp (the economy, yadda yadda), it is up to me to make sure that her brain doesn't completely and totally dry up watching all that television.

She does knit, she does. But she prefers sewing to knitting, so I'm not getting as much done as I'd like. Sure, I could let her fry her brain and all but I figure she has plenty of time to do that, being only eight years old.  So, this summer we have a deal: We work on projects together that she likes and then she can sit in front of the tube for an hour or two while I knit upstairs in front of the tube (I prefer more adult themed shows).

Yesterday, I took out some luscious Quince & Co Sparrow linen. Yes, I'm actually calling linen "luscious." This Sparrow has such a nice feel, even right out of the skein. After soaking the swatch for a few minutes in water and blocking it out, it softened even more. I can't yet decide what to make with this--I have four skeins--but since it's so nice, I can imagine a vest or a wrap. Thing is, I'm so designed out with the past year or two of constant work, I'll have to let it stew for awhile and I'm sure something will come to mind.

And then, sandwiched between swatching and doing a little knitting, we took out her Hello Kitty Janome sewing machine (it's a real machine despite how it looks) and whipped out a pair of shorty pajamas and some pajama pants. Girlfriend helped me sew these for her, but I have to sit behind her on the chair while she sews. Otherwise, she'd manage to get the curtains behind us caught in the machine. That girl has a lead foot, let me tell you.

BTW: The pattern for the shorty pajamas is by Favorite Things.

Don't Forget to Ask the Shoe Size and Look Deep into Their Eyes

A few years ago when we were finishing up the first Custom Knits book, I was talking to my stylist or maybe I was sitting and knitting socks and he expressed an interest in some hand-made ones. Not being the experienced sock knitter that I can now say I am, I remarked: "Hey, I'll make you some!" And he said: "Great!" and I said, "What color?" And he said, "Oh, something neutral."

Next thing, I had three skeins of some Euroflax sock yarn in a nice, dove gray.

After choosing a great pattern, I gave him a call and asked him about his foot size.

I won't even tell you his reported size because I think he totally underestimated: He has some mighty large feet. I mean, if he has such a typical size feet I can tell you with all certainty that they aren't large enough to allow him to walk, he's so tall.

But I cast on anyway, thinking it will be a breeze but months passed and I barely finished one sock. And then one day, we were having a conversation and he mentioned his teeny tiny mom and it hit me: "I think I'll dump his socks and surprise her instead; yeah, that's what I'll do, I'll do the ol' redirect, ninja style."

So, I dumped his honker and made some nice petite socks for his mom and sent them off. You know: the old bait and switch sock routine.

Fast forward to recently while we were shooting again and in front of the crowd he asked me about his socks.

"Shucks," I said. "Your feet are too big. Does you mom like hers? [nudge nudge wink wink]" But I could tell by looking at him he would be one of the good guys, you know, the type who'd actually appreciate the hand-mades and then I caved.

I apologized, found the greatest yarn--Shibui Sock Yarn in Bark--and sent him a picture of the skeins with a note saying: "You like the yarn? Give me a little time since you have such big feet," and he replied:

"Don't worry a bit, darling, it has been only three years, I can wait a little longer."

Moral of the story: If you ever feel like you want to open your big mouth about kntting socks that aren't sport or worsted--or better, bulky--take a look at their feet first, in person, and hopefully naked.

Or, if they're over about 5'11" and don't allow you to actually measure, assume that they have large feet. OR--if you are like me and have actually found a guy (on a blind date) who is at least 6'5" but has super-short arms compared to their body (Ever seen a T-Rex?), it's better to ask first and look deeply into their eyes just in case they act cagey-like.

If they do, then you know they want the socks, above and beyond anything else. Because, we all know, having large feet in the sock-knitter realm is more of a curse than having large calves in the case of leg warmers.

BTW: I'd give you more details on the ShiBui but I dare say that three skeins will not be enough and I might need more.

Like Dad Used to Say: "We all Know that 'Shoot' is "Sh*t" with Two O's"*

Now that I have finished the hardest part of writing a book: the actual "writing" of the text, the designing of the patterns, the knitting of the patterns (oy) and the first round of edits--and the shoot (they don't call it "shoot" for nothing), I'm literally walking in circles.

I'm back to my old habit of putting the tv on on both floors of the house and wandering here and there. Today, I got up and stared at the computer, waiting for all the emails to pour in, and they didn't. Then, I wandered down to the kitchen and cleaned all the stainless stuff (but forgot the dishwasher) then wandered back up and sat and stared again.

I didn't knit a stitch.

I thought about knitting a stitch.

But I didn't.

So now, while HWWV works out in the garage, punching that dang bag so loudly it shakes the house, I sit and stare some more and wonder why.

I guess I should take a look at that re-do of Girlfriend's Swing Coat Sweater pattern and get back to it before Girlfriend is too tall to fit into the sample.

I guess I should vacuum and clean the carpets.

I guess I should maybe go for a walk. You know, get back to being active in the legs instead of the wrists and fingers, only.

This is how it has been for each and every book. The first one, the second one--due out this Fall--and the third, due out next Spring (it is an accessory book). I think there is a little bit of a let-down, a kind of: Is it all over? Now what?

Here are a couple pictures from the shoot, taken by my editor, Liana Allday (she's a trip).

First one and first day, at my sister's home in Los Angeles. A pair of legwarmers and a pretty girl.

We ended up moving her because of the brightness of the wall. But what I remember most about this set-up is that I alone knew of the secret bathroom downstairs and understood that should I have a panicky moment, I could flee and no one would find me (it actually never needed to happen, but I was thankful).

And since we totally forgot that I needed to make some basic fingerless mittens for a shot the next day, I sat there and knit and knit and knit and knit, then I went home and knit some more so they could be ready. Yes, friends, I can knit some substantial mittens using fingerweight in one day. You could, too, if you had to.

The woman looking on is our makeup artist and hair person. She's tuff-cool and probably thinks I'm an old lady. I like her. She went to my high school--as did my editor--but obviously after the Stone Age.

And last, here's a shot of my editor and the guy we lovingly call our "man prop" on the Custom Knits shoots. Don't know how or why that came about, nudge, nudge, wink, wink. But I think I can probably thank some of the early folks who bristled when they saw a bikini (or lack of long pants) with sweaters in my first book. If it weren't for you, dear friends who prefer models wearing long pants . . .

And yes, this third one won't disappoint. There is a boat, a bikini, a babe and a ... man prop.

I only have that * in the title because I get really stressed out during these shoots. Luckily, this third experience was so good that I might actually have outgrown my dread. That is all.

 

 

Latest Loser but I Don't Mind at All

I don't know what I was thinking when I cast on and knit this. I think it was a chapter that I wrote for my next book about knitting shawls from the inside out that made me do it. It was like a bulb went off in my head about shaping circular shawls, or something. I never really thought about it until I was forced to. I realized that if I cast on eight stitches, doubled my stitch count and joined in the round and evenly placed eight markers and worked increases on either side of the markers every other round that I would end up with a star shape.

As I knit it, dancing sugarplums flitted above my head. I kept thinking this would be the "next best" knitting pattern evah!

And then I ran out of yarn and bound off.

Total slump-dum ensued.

Girlfriend, when I handed it to her and asked her to pose said, "this looks just like table topper."

"You mean a doily?" I asked.

"No, just something that you'd put on top of the table and then stick a lamp on top of it."

Loser pile, here we come.

Glad to be back to blogging. Finished the shoot for the third book--it was the best shoot experience I ever had. I am so in love with all the pictures and I can't wait to share some with you.