West Coast Sweater - take 2

I have ripped the shit out of last year's robot-armed Seattle Sweater and I am knitting it into a cardigan for a as-yet-undetermined painting workshop this fall/winter. The idea is that if I do one workshop a year, it's cheaper than grad school, so I should really just pick one and stop feeling guilty about doing something for myself. The years will go by anyway.

If nothing else, I'll have a sweater to wear at work while feeling sad that everyone else is flying off to Japan.

This is the new design:

(Don't hold me to those scribbled cables, I couldn't remember what St. Brigid looked like. 
I'll take notes as I make the thing and post them on Ravelry later.)

Zenny documented the death of the old sweater. And part of her hand.

RIP, Seattle Sweater

And now I am staring at my balls and realizing that I forgot to take a swatch measurement while I had an entire sweater to measure from.

Swatches are for sissies anyway.

CASTING ON.

stylish and hot

The other day I was doing some research for a painting and found this:

This fits my style aesthetic.

But since I can't wear a sexy monk robe to work, I finished knitting the Victorian blouse that has been on the needles for a few months. This is supposed to be a painting prop, but I have already rolled it into a log and put it in a drawer to forget about.

It kept my hands busy and the thought zombies away for a while, anyway.

And leftover yarn means MAKE MORE DOILES. Turns out I don't actually have to worry about becoming a weird doily lady, because the ones that don't get used as frisbies or chicken blankets end up under potted plants until they rot to pieces. Demand > supply. Who knew.

  

So the last few weeks have not been great. The news has been grim, the kids were stuck home with me while it rained torrentially for days on end (see: aggressively knitting doilies), and I handed over all my workshop-travel money to the mechanics who failed my truck's inspection just because the hood was smoking when I pulled up. And because the emergency brake wasn't working. And the wheels were about to fall off.

FINE.

Today the man finally took the kids out so I could paint, because I was stress-baking and stress-cleaning and stress-shopping-for-cabins-in-the-Yukon.

It's too bad I poured all my money into the truck's leaking oil pan, because it is becoming apparent that my next workshop should have been with someone who knows how to paint flowers. Or tree bark.

 Did you know trees can just sprout flowers out of their trunks if they want to? 

They can in the haunted gulch.

It looks okay from a distance, though. Will hang it somewhere difficult to get close to. Like over the washing machine.

Going to try some landscape painting next, and then it's straight back to butts and portraiture.

The chicken tracks hat (pattern)

HERE BE PATTERN

Chicken Tracks 

The most sophisticated and alluring hat with chickens and a pompom that you will ever need. 

Note: My patterns are more like guidelines, so you have to basically know what you're doing. This is your standard stranded hat with square decreases. The size is based around an 11-stitch chart, so if you want to make it bigger, add 11 stitches. To make it smaller, subtract 11 stitches. It should be loose and slouchy, so it's okay if it's a little taller than your head in the end.

Materials:

4 colors of sock yarn (whatever you have the most of for the main color, two chicken colors, one accent color for the chicken tracks)

8" circular needles, size 3
Set of 5 size 3 double-pointed needles
Fits a not-dainty-headed adult

Directions:

Using main color, CO 142

Join in the round, being sure not to twist, and place marker at beginning of row.

Work in 1x1 ribbing for 5 inches or so. It's okay if it's a bit loose; that makes it warm and stretchy and it'll fold over anyway so nobody will notice.

Switch to st st, and decrease 10 stitches evenly over next round. 132 stitches. Knit 3 rounds even.

Add your accent color and knit track 1 (charts below) over the next 3 rounds.

Continue knitting 2 rounds in main color between each chart and carrying up your colors, working charts in this order:

chicken 1 

track 2

chicken 2 

track 1

chicken 1

track 2

(Basically, you have the tracks and the chickens headed in the one direction and then turning around and running back the other way.)

When you have worked all the chart repeats, work 2 rounds in main color, placing stitch markers every 33 stitches.

On next main color round, decrease 1 stitch before and after each stitch marker; k2tog, ssk. Knit 1 round even.

Decrease every other round 4 times, continuing to work in stripes of tracks and main color (work the decreases in main color and pull them tight so there's no gap), then switch to dp needles, with the stitch marker in the middle of each needle for easy decreasing, and decrease every round until 3 stitches remain on each needle. Break yarn, thread end through remaining stitches, and pull tight. Weave in ends, block. Then make a big fat pompom out of your remaining yarn, using the cardboard donut technique. Sew that sucker on securely.

Pau! You are so hip and mysterious.

Charts:

Tracks 1

Chicken 1

Tracks 2

Chicken 2

Look at that, it's a hat

The cat ate the yarn for my work-in-progress, so I had to knit something else while I waited for the yarn to be re-stocked. Hats make good Christmas package additions, so hats it is.

This slouch hat needs a massive pom-pom, I think.

The yarn is still not re-stocked, so guess what I am making now? MORE DOILIES.

I kind of love doilies a lot. We have a ton of houseplants to stick them under. File this under 'Things to Make 10 Year-Old Me Frown in Concern'.

Finished objects - Leif's sweater and couch quilt

All year, I have been inching along with this sweater, worried the child would outgrow it by the time I finished. SURPRISE, it is too big. It fits the teenager pretty well, and that's what you get for following the measurements on a kid-sized pattern. You never know what monster-child they used to base it on in the first place.

Pattern: River Forest Gansey, size L child
Yarn: Knit Picks Brava sport in heathered grey (because they don't sell Simply Cotton anymore HUMPH)

Well, the chilly season is mostly over for this year anyway, he can be warm on rainy days next winter and it should fit better.


ALSO

I have been stitching away at a kantha-type quilt for most of the year, as well. Finally sewed down the last of the binding this week.

 Thanks, Pan.

Cast-on time!

balls.

I can knit celtic knots and shetland lace, but I can't knit around a fucking foam ball.

Oh, hey, that looks alri-

#@%!?

HOLIDAY SPIRIT SURGING.

This is the holiday spirit that runs people down for spots in mall parking lots and throttles old ladies over 75% off snuggies. 

My mother shoved a box of lights in my hand and told me to get festive, so I hung them over the window just in time for the winter rain to arrive. Suddenly we are huddling under couch blankets with tea and breaking into choruses of Silent Night and watching crap holiday specials on youtube. 

And furtively reading Dean Koontz novels

It's working, folks. I had feelings.

In other news:

Went to storytime workshop and am now MASTER OF COLORED SCARVES. And I learned these action rhymes, which my kid will not let me stop doing. Will need both knees replaced by the end of the week:

I'm popcorn in a pan (crouch down)
Don't forget the top (pretend to put a lid on your head)
Soon I'll start to sizzle... (sizzle sizzle sizzle with your wiggly bum)
And then... I'll... POP! (JUMP UP OH MY GOD MY KNEES) 

Then when you can't take it anymore, you sit down and distract them with this one:

Pour the popcorn in the pan (rock your kid back and forth on your lap)
Shake it up, shake it up! (jostle poor helpless child)
BAM BAM BAM (bop up and down mercilessly)

Bonus: counts as exercise. Go get a mini snickers bar out of the secret pilfered Halloween stash.

Pau

I have finished the Bloomsthingy, and coaxed the child into it, and now it's done. Except for the ends to be woven in, but meeeeh. 

Folks, I might be down at the thrift store picking out mangy old sweaters to salvage after all. The yarn I want in the quantity I want is $70, and I JUST CAN'T. But the new Brooklyn Tweed collection is up, and I'm all over that Cascade pattern, so a bit of grubbing through sweaters that people have maaaaybe rubbed on their junk is in order, perhaps.

Oh, and there's a tsunami coming. But we live way up high in the middle of the island, instead of down by the ocean where we used to, so I am yawning and stretching elaborately. Which probably means a water spout will drop sharks on my house, but WHATEVER. I have a machete and a bbq. 

Bloomsbury- actual knitting content

(dr. update in Grim post)

With all funds diverted to establishing the new household, I've had the satisfying/piteous job of relying on my old stash for all my knitting projects; my stash being made up of three small-ish plastic boxes stored in the pirate trunk we stole from someone's garbage. There's some good stuff in there, but only two balls of anything, so that precludes any winter-wear for myself or the boys. I stood in the thrift store holding up old sweaters, contemplating picking the seams and ripping them apart for yarn, and then huffed dejectedly because I might as well just buy the finished sweaters for the kids and save myself 3 months of knitting with someone else's pit sweat.

After a lot of waffling, I pulled out the luscious Arucania and cast on a baby sweater. The pattern is supposed to be on larger needles with worsted, but all I had was fingering, so I went with the largest size on smaller needles. Without swatching, OF COURSE.

Which is probably why it fits like a sausage casing around the middle (but, you know, loose in the arms). That shit will block out, I tell myself. Lace stretches. She's a skinny child. I DO WHAT I WANT.

Bloomsbury Kids

I'm down to the last 5 inches of the second sleeve, and already eyeing my dwindling stash box with a bit of desperation. I'll be back to knitting fucking doilies if I can't scrape up funds for a knitpicks order. Thanks for not offering free shipping to Hawaii, KNITPICKS. You can send that shit on the boat for the same cost as land shipping, we don't mind waiting 6 weeks. We would just order more, to stagger arrivals. Think about it.

existential consternation

I finished the doily, finally. Dishwater beige thrift store crochet yarn, destined for the underside of a potted plant.

Yep.

Being productive wards off the dark stuff. Also, knitting keeps my hands out of the popcorn bowl on family movie night. But I'm looking at this doily and wondering about the output potential of my hands - mostly because I was watching the Hurt Locker while binding off, but still. When I'm surrounded by people doing their own activities, I knit. When I am on lunch break at work, I write my ongoing tumblr saga. When I've got the house to myself, I paint small pictures or draw librarian comics. And each of these things fits into the slots of time available to me in the environments in which they occur, and each of them is something I enjoy doing, but altogether I feel spread thin; unfocused, purposeless, unable to complete any one thing of any great import. And I know this is the dark stuff whispering, but I can't see that it is wrong in this matter.

Like anybody else, I want to be very good at something, and devote myself to it, and make something out of it that will live longer than me.

It's probably not doilies. But I'll be happy to keep making them in the small minutes if I'm working toward something... more.

wall-eyed chicken and a FO

I refused to by another ball of this yarn, so I bound off the Malgven and called it done. 

DONE.

It's a lap blanket/shawl/cat entrancer. Which has taken most of a year to plod through.

Inaction shot.

The same day, I finished the book I was reading. And neither of these things were part of a series, which means the pleasure of finishing them dropped immediately into despondency, like a balloon thbbting into a flaccid wrinkled mess.

So maybe I was a little depressed when I found a derpy Japanese chicken tea set and brought it home furtively, like someone smuggling actual chickens into the house. Mike picked up the tea pot and stared at it. "It's... a chicken. Oh - oh my. It's a set. Of course it's a set." 

I took out my phone and showed him what was parked next to us at the store. "See? At least I didn't flock the car."

I'm holding out for a cartoon-car paint job, anyway.

KCBW DAY 7: Your time, your place

Where and how do you take time out to knit and/or crochet? Whether social or solitary, tell readers about your crafting time and space.

I am losing momentum with this thing. Early morning coffee pictures of my couch - which is where I knit, if I'm not at work having lunch on a stool in the break room.

I am one of those people who doesn't look like they're smiling unless they're laughing maniacally.

My knitting space is usually crowded with legs and cats. Which is good, since I knit to have something to keep my hands busy when I'm hanging out with the family. If they're not full of coffee, which they are at 6:30am.

I impulsively bought a pretty chair to knit in, but it just sits there being aesthetic because it isn't actually very comfortable.

And it's full of cats. Bad planning.

This song is on heavy rotation while I'm working. 

KCBW DAY 6: Polls apart (now with functioning poll)

Dress me, internet! Today we are supposed to conduct a poll. Probably a knitting-related one, which this one could be, if the hypothetical cardigans are hand-knit.

 Recently, I have been wanting to establish more of a uniform for myself, work-attire-wise. It helps people if you look like the thing they expect you to be - and I want that thing to be friendly, competent, and accessible. Younger people tend to ping off the reference desk nervously instead of asking for help, and older men look past me to see if someone with more authority is available. A uniform might help everyone feel more comfortable. Myself included. 5 of the same shirts, 5 of the same pants, DONE. I can always cheer it up with amusing jewelry. I'm putting "jeans" in the poll, because that is what everyone at work wears, but I might upgrade to black pants.

So here is what I wear right now (except with hair up):

I was smiling at the camera, but Zenny chose that moment to throw all her coloring books on the floor, and then we had to scramble to clean up and get shoes and keys and shove everyone out the door and POINT ILLUSTRATED - I don't have time to coordinate outfits.

So. Dark and neutral? Bright and chipper? What would make you comfortable approaching a librarian?

Click a button! It is anonymous!

Create your own user feedback survey Create your own user feedback survey

KCBW DAY 5: Something a bit different

This post written by special guest Ogden Nash.

On the discriminate use of animal terms in knitting

I find it dogged of the knitter

To frog a thing that doesn't fit her

And though she'll ribbit to the cuff

She'll not dog it if it's looking ruff

 

 Can you make me one of those?

A knitter rarely knits for money
She'll make socks only for her honey

So if you must ask, never wheedle
Or she'll stab you with a needle



 After hours

The librarian knits industriously
To avoid erupting incusstriously



It's all just knits and purls

Like driving a car through a hula hoop
One does not simply p7tbl

KCBW DAY 4: Bags of fun (oo-er)

Time to delve into that most treasured collection of tools, notions and oddments as you are asked to spill the contents of your knitting or crochet bag, caddy or other method of organisation and put your crafting unmentionables on display.

Oh, this is a bad idea, Blog Week. I am not a tidy bag-keeper. But I will defensively preface this entry by explaining that my mother's bag is worse - she doesn't knit, but she has people who know that I knit, so they foist balls of unwanted yarn on her and she stuffs them in a cloth bag that hangs on the back of the closet door. It stays there so I can have emergency supplies if I'm stuck at her house without my knitting, which is lovely - except that we have some extraordinary indoor wildlife in these parts, and they LOVE bags of yarn that lie undisturbed for months on end. So last weekend I went enthusiastically rummaging through the thing and got a handful of crunching cockroach eggs, a panicky roach in my hair, and a gecko egg jumped down my shirt and broke.

So my bag is pretty nice, really. It very barely even gets any mice in it.

My knitting bag is also my work bag. It contains the usual - wallet, phone, knitting, lunch, emergency toiletries. And whatever sifts to the bottom from any number of things that pass through. Every now and then, I empty it out and give it a good spanking. Now is as good a time as ever.

Let us see what is in this thing:

Looks ok so far.

 

Oh, dear.

clockwise from red blob:

1. knitting - waded up thing which I hope will resemble a blanket when it's spread out
2. stitch holder
3. crumbled knitting charts
4. pen case and tiny sketchbook
5. mass of gradient pens
6. thread & thimble
7. lipsticks - friendly pink and scary red, depending on who's at the desk
8. pads, because a) uterus, and b) library teen emergencies
9. deodorant - two kinds, because I tried to be all-natural and discovered it doesn't work but haven't thrown it out yet
10. book for toddler time
11. ugly keychain with candy stuck in it, which I have no memory of obtaining
12. some kind of pin my kid gave me
13. car keys
14. sesame treat which I won't eat because it somehow has 24 grams of fat in it
15. empty wrapper and 4 pennies
16. hair tie, hidden from hair-band-snapping husband
17. work keys
18. hardware store rewards card
19. note card colored by Leif
20. two wallets
21. orange


Better than the time I emptied my purse and found rocks in it.

KCBW DAY 3: Experimental photography

Instagram knitter-trooper is having a nice day off.

WEEEKEND LOL

Malabrigo, bitches. #malabriiiiigo #vaginabikemerino 

Who wound this skein even?? Look at this nonsense.  KNITPICKS. 

#knitpicks #KNITPIIIICKS #thanksobama #wine #droids 

OMG it's finally done. 

#blockingisforsuckas 

KCBW DAY 2: It's all about you

This post can be about your reality, your aspirations, past, present or future. Enjoy talking about you.

Oh, you sweet altruistic purpose-driven bloggers. My posts are always all about me.

So let's talk about things I find too personal to talk about. And then delete this later, because eew. I will do this in the form of what I imagine to be the top questions people may have. I will answer actual questions in the comments, if anyone has any.

1. Holy shit, you've been blogging for like 12 years and you have no readers, why do you even do this?

I started blogging in the very newborn beginning of intarweb blogs, before people had niches and etsy shops and pretty tutorials. I was in love with someone I had no business being in love with, who did not feel the same, and so I left my life open optimistically, like a book on a coffee table. And it didn't work, but I am still here, talking away for years and years and years. I'm throwing out words like a trail of bread crumbs. I guess it feels more like feeding birds now. I have removed my blog listing from google and closed comments from spammers and anonymous users, which pares down my readers to friends, family, knitters, and intrepid/accidental web acquaintances. I'd feel weird writing anything if I knew 500 people were weighing in on it. Which would probably improve my content, but OH WELL.

2.  Hey, didn't you get divorced? Did you re-marry the same person? What is happening?!

Yeah. We remarried two years ago. It is like this: shitty people can do good things, and still be really unpleasant individuals to be around most of the time. My husband is a good person who has done some really shitty things, and he's very nice to be with. It's been 18 years. You hang on to the people who are gripping your hands as you hurtle through the years, even if you do have stray bread crumbs flying from your skirts.


3. Who would you cast as yourself in the movie of your life?

Tim Minchin.

Maybe Steve Buscemi, when hobos pee in the library sink.

4. What's your favorite song?

Nope, TOO PERSONAL. I am failing at my own questions.


5. What's for dinner?

Oh, damn. *scheduling blog to publish in the morning*


Stay tuned for tomorrow: experimental photography day!

KCBW DAY 1: If you were yarn

"VANILLA."
"Come on, kid, there are 32 flavors here. Pistachio! Rocky road! Coconut! Pick something fun!"
"... FRENCH vanilla."

This went on until I was about 24. If pressed, I always insisted I was a purist, but that wasn't quite it.

In the summers of the early '80s, my mother and I beat around Bloomington on a bike with a plastic toddler seat. We went to outdoor concerts on grassy hills with youths tossing frisbees, ate hummus in the well house, ran from hot summer thunderstorms, and broke down along the countryside in her brother's battered old VW bug. 

 

The well house, portal into the faerie realm

When we visited my grandparents we made ice cream in a big wooden churn, and when we walked through B-town we stopped at the fountain to share a mini coffee Haagen Dazs.

The fountain, which probably animates at night when the square is empty

It was goddamn magical, and no frosty expanse of blue and pink ice cream tubs could compete with that kind of childhood expectation. I chose vanilla because it tasted like Bloomington. I still choose coffee Haagen Dazs if I'm shopping by myself.

In my most romantic imaginings of myself, I'm earthy and bohemian and rebellious - a free-spirited book lover with flowing hair and hippie skirts and natural foods. But in reality, I work and use an e-reader and dress in jeans and shop at Costco. I admire tattoos, but don't have any. We make home-brewed craft ale, and I still prefer light beer. My favorite restaurant is Thai, but my favorite food is hot bread. Basically, I've got the fancy little specks, but I'm still just vanilla. My philosophy is to live a simple, good life, and try not to be an asshole.

 

This is good, too.

But the question presented was: if you were yarn, which yarn would be? This seems like an unlikely turn of events in a person's life, but if someone were to hold me down and force me through a carding machine, I guess I might come out as cotton (if I didn't come out as ribbons of librarian meat). Soft enough to be good for more than dish rags, a bit grubby from being pawed by children's fingers, maybe slightly heavier than I'd prefer. I'd like to say I'm organic, but there's probably some acrylic in there. And as a librarian with three kids, I am definitely not something people spend a lot of money on. I think I'm knitpicks comfy worsted heather.

 

In beige, probably. 

At least I'm all-purpose, and not clown-barf boucle.