The key to success seems to be good equipment

Let me start by saying I am a real sucker for all things cute.  I love the patterns at Mochi Mochi Land for being adorable… (and am also tempted to make some of them for a friend of mine who’s having a kidlet in a couple of months… her kid is going to end up being so spoiled by my joint loves of knitting and cute baby things…) but I digress.

I got frustrated with the process of knitting small projects on dpns during the process of making the ruffled leg warmers. Don’t get me wrong… I love the results… but having my 8″ size 6 dpns stab me repeatedly in the arms or get caught in my sleeves while I was knitting the smaller rounds was frustrating to say the least. An ad in Knit.1 for adorable needles made of reclaimed rosewood (yum… rosewood is one of my long-time favorites) by skilled artisans in Vietnam that I saw right around my Anniversary of Annual Indulgence (otherwise known as the Anniversary of my Birth, but really, at this point, it’s all about indulgence. Aging once past 25 really isn’t that exciting) led me to consider the idea of shorter dpns. 5″ seemed like just about the right for my very petite hands. Add in an adorable collectors tin to keep them organized in and I was sold.

I ordered them in only a couple sizes at first, to go with the projects that I was working on… I’ve since ordered more since they’re wonderful to work with and, once I got over my fear of turning heels, love knitting socks. I’m justifying having ordered size 1 needles by the project I’ve chosen for the Ravelympics.

Having needles that I really love working with has changed how I think about needles.  I once bought ones purely based on price, which left me with a collection of multicolored aluminum needles that hurt almost as much to look at as they did to hold.  Then, I started knitting in the round and invested in a set of KnitPicks Options.  They are wonderful… but my hands occasionally get tired of holding them.  Either that or my hands just aren’t large enough to comfortably use size 7 needles.  I really do prefer smaller sizes.  I love the points on my Harmony sock needles, but for some projects they’re simply too long.  When I wandered back into the realm of the Knitters a couple years ago (and more seriously sometime last fall), I never imagined I would be so picky about how my needles “fit” my project… or how having a good fit totally changes the experience of knitting for me.

As a last quick note, I have my first FO of the year that I knit for myself.  I finished a scarf in January and a collection of chenille flowers in February, but those were both for my darling man who is very patient with and supportive of my Fiber habit.  I cast off the Pretty in Pink and Purple Ruffled Leg Warmers and wove in the ends about two weeks ago.  Time flies!

I think the ruffles would look a little better with a looser bind off, but other than that I’m very pleased with how they came together and how well my pattern modifications seemed to work.

I also have begun to observe that I like my fabrics to be much softer, drapier, and less dense, generally, than seems to be recommended at my LYS.  Ah well.  I’m the one who’s wearing them, right?

“See? It pays to carry creative things with you!”

This post will be devoid of photos. I haven’t had time to take them or edit them or post them on flickr, despite having made a fair bit of progress toward finishing off a few WIPs lately.

As I settle into my almost-daily trip across the bay, I’m surprised and pleased at the amount of knitting I’m getting done. I shouldn’t be surprised as I probably spend somewhere around two hours in transit, but it comes in spurts with a number of stops and starts and changing trains… so it’s not really like the uninterrupted two hours I might spend knitting while watching a movie.

(I think the reason that I tend to craft to musicals and classics is because I don’t need to actively watch them… and I don’t get sucked in to them in the way I might to more modern movies. That and I’m watching many of them for the second or third or fifth time… but I digress)

I finished my first sock last week. I have only a single thumb to place and ends to weave in on the yellow mermaid mitts. The happy wanderer capelet is coming along nicely, if a bit slowly. At this rate, I might have a rather good list of FOs for the year, hopefully a few pair of fun socks among them. Which would totally justify collecting more sock yarn at a rapid rate.

(Side Note: at lunch with a friend today, we were playing a game on the table that encouraged us to ask each other to name three things of which we have an abundance. The first thing that came to mind, which I then blurted out was “Yarn! I have an abundance of yarn!” Which. I do. And there is still more that I want. Mostly sock yarn because there seem to be a practically infinite number of sock patterns that I hope to knit.)

Knitting on public transit has had its perks in other ways, too.

Monday, I was waiting for a bus and told by the driver that she was on break and had just pulled in at the end of the line so I’d have to wait for a few minutes. I mumbled that I was sorry, I didn’t know, and went to sit down at the bench and pulled out my knitting.

Moments later, the driver appears. “You just did the magic thing!” she says, as she let me onto the bus before taking her break. “See, it pays to do creative things in public!”

Her mood had lightened considerably. She began the next journey with a merry “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen! Good morning, ladies, gentlemen and Knitters!” Even though I couldn’t see her face, I knew she was smiling and perhaps even winking at me and my little WIP.

Tuesday morning, on a different bus, a woman who asked me if I was knitting a sock (I was). Conversation ensued. Eventually, after politely conducting the SKI (Standard Knitter’s Interview. That set of questions that all knitters seem to ask upon meeting a new knitter like how long have you been knitting, who taught you, what you’re working on today, and so on), she asked if I was a student. Somehow, acknowledging that I am indeed a student invited her to and tell me about knitters achieving the same sorts of alpha brain waves as buddhist monks practicing meditation. Apparently it’s not just in my head that knitting, more than many other crafts I’ve tried, is sort of meditative and relaxing… (something in the elegance of simple movements repeated and repeated and repeated again that somehow produce a larger, more cohesive and tangible whole). Of course, the meditative part tends to mean that I sometimes find myself very focused and really not wanting to engage with others. Knitting in public is apparently not a good way to achieve that sort of focus. She gave me a card for her fiber arts blog.

Sometimes I think I should make blog cards. Or flickr cards. Or something. But then I might have to be more careful about what sorts of things I put up for the internet to enjoy.

I’ve learned a lot on my commutes this week. And while the mesmerized onlookers tend to annoy me with their stares and questions, knitting in public is starting to feel like an ongoing stitch ‘n bitch with the world at large.

It does pay to carry creative things with me. On the days where nothing happens, they are their own reward. And sometimes, just a little more.

“It’s a funny thing to say to a dancer, congratulations on your turned heel…”

It’s hard to believe, looking at my sock-in-progress, how terrified I was of knitting one in the first place. The sock is a couple of pattern inches away from the final steps of knitting and kitchenering the toe… that heel-turning bit that I was so afraid of turned out to be quite simple, when all was said and done.

I traced my fears back to a book I read as a little girl, Molly Learns a Lesson, in which the erstwhile Molly shudders at the idea of knitting socks in an effort to support the troops in World War II. Molly, the book says, knew all about knitting… and about how hard socks were; that you had to turn the heel and knit with three needles!

It didn’t dawn on me until after actually knitting the heel that yes, one does use three needles to turn it. But three doesn’t seem that bad when the pattern one’s been using involves cables and knitting in the round on dpns. This being my third project knit in the round on dpns, I’m quite used to the idea of holding on to a number of needles configured to behave a bit like a many-pointed wooden octopus.

I suppose it’s more of a challenge when you’re 10.

I’m glad it went well, even if I can think of some ways I’d like to improve on what I did for the future. I’d also like to learn how to make prettier SSKs. If anyone’s got some helpful tips on how to make them nice and tight, I’d be quite grateful.

I imagine I’ll be able to finisish at least one sock within the next couple of days, leaving me plenty of time to finish some lingering wips and knit up some guage and pattern swatches to complete my training for the Ravelympics. I’m looking forward to Sock Putting.

The downside of this is that I can totally see where I am going to have sock monogamy problems.  I think I like Sheri’s suggestion of always having at least 3 pairs of socks on the needles at once. I can totally see myself getting bored of or being not quite in the mood for a particular pattern or colorway on a given day.  Maybe it won’t be as bad as with some problems as, since I’m not so much of a mismatched-sock sort of a girl, I can’t use one sock until I’ve finished the other.

And finishing two socks in two and a half-weeks for the Ravelympics will hopefully set a good precedent.  (I have promised to spoil myself with lovely wooden sock blockers should I actually finish my Ravelympics project.  Motivation abounds!).

In another post, I have lovely new needles and my first FO since I started this blog to share!

Ravelympian in training… (or: how I began to conquer my fear of knitting socks)

I think that somewhere around two posts ago, I decided that I was going to start finishing more projects before I was allowed to start any new ones. My FO list for 2008 consists of one simple scarf and a collection of chenille roses… (only one of which I’ve bothered to put up on Ravelry) and I’m pretty sure the only reason those got finished is because they were gifts for someone else that had a couple of very definite deadlines. I describe myself as being very selfish in my knitting in that most of the projects I get interested in and start are projects for me, not gifts. Apparently, however, I’m much more likely to procrastinate on projects I’m doing for myself. Hm.

I digress.

So, The Plan (ha! famous last words!) was to finish off some of the projects that have been hanging around, partially begun and far from finished, before starting any new ones. This is particularly true of small projects, the ones that are easy to tuck into my bag and carry along during my morning and evening commute. Note that I have actually made some headway on that goal… finished one whole leg warmer and am somewhere in the midst of the last three or four rounds of the second. Most of that was done in commuting hours. (Is it bad that knitting on the trains is, at times, my biggest motivation me to actually go all the way to and from Berkeley instead of just working from home?)

Anyway, that was The Plan until Adrienne gave me a couple of skeins of beautiful Koigu Painter’s Palette Premium Merino in colors that remind me of a Renaissance painting and an offer of help and support through heel turning for my birthday. They’re begging to be socks. And, as further encouragement, we both signed up for the Revelympic Sock Put.

I figure that since there are a good three and a half weeks before the opening ceremonies, that’s a good time to knit a first sock as part of my “training” (I’m picking a moderately challenging sock pattern for the Ravelympics themselves — the Red Thread Socks by Cookie A substituting a lovely chocolate brown for the red and then using the pretty variegated skeins for the main body of the socks) so that I don’t waste valuable time during the challenge figuring out how to do standard sock-knitting practices like turn a heel.

So, I pulled some yarn out of my stash (part of the need to learn to knit socks is that I keep falling in love with beautiful, colorful, fingering-weight yarns. There are only so many useful non-sock projects one can do with these sorts of yarn. Unless I wanted to spend the next 10 years knitting a couture gown or something, which I’m not really convinced that I do) and cast on for the first in a pair of Uptown Boot Socks from Favorite Socks. I’m learning sock-making and really simple cabling in one project.

I’m actually pretty pleased with the project so far, and loving the colorway, though the variegation seems to obscure the cables a little. My biggest worry is that the sock in question will come out too big for my foot and for the fit that I like, though I think that’s both unlikely since I did take measurements beforehand and also not terribly difficult to control. I think the part to watch out for is the part that deals with the length of the feet… I have really, really short feet. I think they’re just over 8″ long. Unfortunately, they’re a fairly normal width (for an adult), so I can’t really get by with just knitting something sized for a child and trusting that it will all scale correctly.

Of course, I haven’t gotten to the hard part, yet.

I might find myself actually wanting to learn to knit socks on two circulars instead of a set of dpns. Except I do really love the feel of dpns, particularly these dpns. (Again with the thoughts on needles! Needle post definitely forthcoming). For now, work, and then knitting are begging for attention.

A pattern is really just a group of suggestions, right?

I don’t think I’ve ever knit a pattern exactly as written. (At some level, I suppose very few people manage to knit something, particularly something large, without some mistake somewhere, which makes this statement generally true… but I am referring to something else, which is a deliberate set of pattern modifications). I switch yarns and switch weights which inevitably changes the guage and number of pattern repeats. I get tired of paying attention to a long, complicated lace pattern and decide that it’s going to be an edging for something that can be knit mostly in some variant of zombie knitting (stockinette, garter stitch, seed stitch, etc) while I watch my favorite musicals and chick flicks. I add a row here or there to give a pattern a slightly different feel. I marvel at the idea that people actually knit a pattern in the actual yarn and color it’s designed for, though I know plenty of people who do just that.

I imagine that one of these days, I’ll scrap the idea of knitting other people’s patterns altogether and do the same thing as I do with designing and sewing ballgowns… find patterns for very basic parts and put them together to build the design just the way I envision it.

Maybe one of these days I’ll get around to taking a class in designing knitting patterns. That might be fun.

The ruffled legwarmers march along and will hopefully come to a happy conclusion next week… I’m now about two thirds of the way knitting the top ruffle on the first legwarmer, which is exciting and fun, if a bit slow going. Apparently, I’m not very good at pf&b, especially when using a deep color of laceweight silk and mohair yarn on dark rosewood rather blunt needles. (Of course, the dark needles do have being a better length to their credit; the 8″ Harmony wood needles I was using before kept getting caught in my sleeves and threatening to stab me. I sense a post in the future about the value of finding the “right” needles to really enjoy a particular project… but I digress.)

I’ve made some several modifications to this pattern, which, very intelligently, I haven’t written down until now. Fortunately, they’re relatively minor. I added an extra two rows at the bottom of the lower ruffle because I didn’t like the idea of increasing and binding off right away. I am changing how the top ruffle works in a lot of ways. First, I think the legwarmers look top-heavy in the pattern picture so I figured I could solve that by knitting the legwarmers in two yarns together and then only using one (the lighter, fluffier one) for the top ruffle. That seems to be working rather well. Unfortunately, I don’t really care for how that particular yarn looks in 1×1 rib, so after the eyelets, I switched to stockinette and decided to split the increases on alternate rounds over about 8 rounds before binding off. So I knit two rounds even (after the eyelet round), round 3 kf&b on every fourth stitch, round 4 even, round 5 kf&b on the second stitch and every fourth stitch after that, round 6 even, round 7 kf&b on every fourth stitch, round 8 even and bind off knitwise.

We’ll see if it ends up looking how it does in my mind. I have high hopes.

How close is too close?

People told me, upon hearing my new address, that I’d be “dangerously close to [my favorite LYS].” They weren’t kidding. I knew they weren’t kidding at the time, but I can’t say I’d anticipated this much fiber lust when Sam and I chose this block and this apartment as our home.

Just last week, I found myself in need of a tape measure. I had one, once, but somewhere between moving to San Francisco and traveling to Argentina and a number of trips back and forth across the bay for work and social events and so on, it seems to have been sadly misplaced. This being, as it was, terribly inconvenient for progressing on two of my current projects (both of which I am at a point where the instructions suggest that I knit until the garment is 11″ or 21.5″ long) and a third project being on hold due to the fact that I simply don’t have enough stitch markers to continue with it (yet), meant the situation needed to be remedied and quickly. In theory, this was simple… I live a mere two and a half blocks from my favorite LYS, they are sure to have at least one variety of tape measure… I’ll just stop in for a moment on my way to work and pick one up.

Famous last words.

I learned that day that it is pure folly to believe I can walk into a store that consists of two rooms stacked floor to ceiling with beautiful yarns and not wander away with a new love. The love of this particular visit was a beautiful skein of HandMaiden Sea Silk, a light fingering weight silk and seacell blend in a soft but saturated summery colourway. Having pet this yarn (in other colourways) many times, I knew I loved the texture. Fortunately, I’d never been terribly enamoured of any particular colourway I’d seen, so it had always been easy to leave sitting in its basket. That day was different… the yarn called to me and begged me to take it home; I found I couldn’t refuse it. Sadly, when I got home, I spent some time doing research on Ravelry for what sort of thing this yarn might like to be (something soft and lacy, obviously, but what beyond that?) My one-skein wonder books weren’t providing me with anything truly satisfying to do with 440 yards of fingering weight yarn. Something this beautiful doesn’t deserve to be another pair of socks. Even a very pretty pair of socks. This meant another trip to the yarn store and, upon discovering a second hank in the same colourway (the last one in stock, I was told as I brought my purchase to the register) cemented my plan to make a beautiful summery shawl. Right now, I’m thinking the Diamond Fantasy Shawl looks like a good way to go. It will be my first time knitting lace, but I’m looking forward to the challenge. And many many yards of beautiful, soft yarn passing through my hands.

In other news, the pretty purple ruffled legwarmers that have been my “public transit” … and party… and theatre intermissions… etc… project of late are coming along nicely. I’ve finished the bodies of both legwarmers… all that remains to be done is the top ruffle, which I’m planning to knit in the deep plum silk/mohair blend that I’ve been knitting jointly with the Panda Silk in the main bodies of the project. I want them to have a light, airy feel at the top… I think a ruffle in the bamboo yarn I’ve been using would be too heavy for the soft feel I want the finished garment to have.

I’m promising myself that I will actually finish this project before I pick up the popsicle lace shawl… or some other small project to work on while I make my twice-daily trip across the bridge. Maybe I’ll finally get brave enough to get over my completely strange and irrational fear of knitting socks and try a pair… maybe something for Sam, since he is endlessly supportive and indulgent when it comes to my knitting habit.

The Allure of the “New Project”

Confession: I have startitis. I would say that I have it lately, and only with knitting, but really, this has been a lifelong problem. I think my personal startitis (that is, a tendency to start new projects before finishing old ones) relates to a general lack of deadlines in personal projects. When I’m knitting gifts, they take priority. I start them, and finish them (usually) as they need to go to a certain person by a certain time or lose their value. Well, either that or think of a new gift to get for said person on very very short notice. I don’t like to miss deadlines.

There’s more to startitis, however, than mere lack of finishing deadlines. New yarn, chosen at a specific time for a specific project has a way of beckoning “Pick me! Use me! I’m shiny and new and exciting! I don’t deserve to hide in the back of your stash where I will languish and be forgotten!” Thus began the Glamour Capelet. It helps, of course, that the pattern seems simple enough, the garment wonderfully useful, especially in a place like San Francisco which changes its mind about whether to be warm or cold in the span of oh, five minutes or so, and, unlike anything else I’m currently knitting, this one doesn’t have mistakes. It holds a promise of potential perfection. I’m a sucker for perfection. And I love capes.

Despite my best intentions to finish any given project before moving on to the next one, the allure of the yarn draws me in and I find myself beginning yet another project which, if I think about it, will only slow my progress on the other projects I’m working on. Cold, hard logic, however, isn’t strong enough to beat the draw of the shiny, new and exciting and before I know it, I’m several rows in to project #7… far enough in to add it to my work-in-progress chart on Ravelry. I work on it at home a few nights, while unwinding and watching movies, bring it to a Knitterday with friends… this project has, at least staked its claim among present works, unlike a couple of less fortunate projects that were good ideas that never went anywhere. And it’s taught me a couple of new skills — a beautiful, ultra-subtle increase and how to knit with three needles to make a reinforced hem. Which is, at the end of the day, probably a pretty handy thing to know.

I learn a lot from startitis. Every new project brings new stitches and new techniques… things I haven’t done or tried before and the more of them there are in any given new project, the more likely I am to start it. I’m trying to hold back for a while, now, willing myself to finish the multitude of projects I’ve already started before I start anything else. Or maybe I only have to finish a few… after all, small projects are terribly convenient for long commutes…

I think it’s a Very Good Thing that the yarn I want for a couple of projects isn’t available in stores for a while yet. If it were, who knows what trouble I’d find myself in!