Pardon Me, Your Slip Isn't Showing (Or Is It?....)

I promise this isn't going to turn into a daily confessional column about how I screwed up my knitting on the Samantha Dress. But I have this vague idea that if I share these tragedies with the outside world, they will never happen again. I'll get back to you later about how that works out.

During a shift in pattern at the top of the smocking (a new word for me) on one of the front halves of the dress, I switched from carrying the yarn in front during the stitch-slipping process to carrying the yarn in back. All of a sudden my neat little hyphens of cotton disappeared. And I didn't figure it out until many rows later. This is what I get for watching TV while knitting. Try as I might, I'm not very good at multitasking.

This picture shows where the dashes should have been. Though I've been whining on these pages about knitting in cotton, one thing it has going for it is that it's not difficult to pick up stitches in it if you have to frog back. I had this ripped back and was back on track in no time.

The first half of the front is done, and I've cast on the for the second. Should be a bit easier since I don't have to worry about button holes. I am getting a bit nervous as to whether I bought enough yarn or not...

Watch Your Asterisk

I only recently realized that there should not be an extra stitch between the eyelets along the bottom edge of the Samantha Dress. I don't think it's violating much in the way of copyright to say that this eyelet row, as knitted, is *k1, yo, k2t*. However, the instructions are written as k1 *yo kt2*. Which is totally different.

I only noticed when I started working on one of the front halves of the dress. I couldn't figure out why the eyelets were so much closer together. I stared and stared and stared at the directions. They were identical for front and back. It was my brain that moved the asterisk.

I am not going to be re-knitting the back. So I'm going to continue my mistake throughout the rest of the garment. It won't look all that different, and luckily, this mistake didn't affect the stitch count. Which makes sense. Otherwise I would have caught this earlier.

Today's moral: Watch your asterisk.

Pink & Wink

It seems that if I'm not going to be knitting in one of my dark, drab colors (or non-colors as some of my fellow knitters have dubbed them), it's got to be pink. Hot pink. Must be going around.

Things are going much better with the Samantha dress now that I'm not periodically and randomly kitting into the row below. It's just a question of paying a bit more attention. Still not loving working with the cotton, but more pleased at how it's turning out. Weaving in ends with cotton always makes me nervous -- there's nothing to stop those little strings from working their way out. So I made a knot. I've read several times that knitting should always involve loops, never knots. But I'm doing it anyway for the peace of mind and I can now say that I've never not knotted my knitting. I'll do my best to hide them in the seams.

Although the patterned stitch band across the bodice looks quite different knit in cotton rather than wool, I kind of like the effect. It's a bit see-through, as you might be able to see in the photo, but luckily, 6-month-olds aren't known for their prudishness and modesty. It's going to look so cute on her!

A short while ago, I ran into Amy Wink, a college friend who teaches on my campus some semesters. We managed to get together for lunch Monday and it was wonderful. Amy is an English professor, and thus much better at writing about our catching up. If you'd like to eavesdrop, check out this post at her blog. It was great seeing her again and getting to spend some time together. Pie was eaten.

Amy has a horse with whom (which? -- "which" is probably more correct, but "whom" feels more appropriate...Amy would know!) she practices the art of carriage driving. I loved hearing her talk about it, and I'm looking forward to going for a drive with her and Will. So I've learned a bit about driving, Amy has learned a bit about the needle arts, and in that weird synchronistic way that new knowledge has a way of working into our lives, Amy ran across something on the interwebs about crocheted horse ear bonnets.

I wonder what Will would look like in hot pink...

The Next Generation

Last weekend, my Aunt June called to let me know that she had become a great-grandmother this summer. My oldest cousin's oldest daughter had a baby daughter at the end of June, Whitney Lynne. For those of you keeping score at home, she's my first cousin, twice removed. It struck me that she would have been my grandfather' first geat-great grandchild, born in what would have been his 100th year.

So, inspired by Julia's lovely example, I decided to knit Whitney a little something to welcome her into the world. I'm making Samantha in the 6 month size -- hopefully useful for the winter. But after consultation with some fellow knitters and in consideration of our mild winters down this way, I decided to knit this out of cotton -- Dale Stork, to be precise.

I'm having issues. First of all, it's been a long time since I've knit with cotton. Unlike warm, comforting and forgiving wool, it's cool, robotic and isn't interesting in protecting your feelings. But, I'm committed to making this washable and wearable as long as possible, so cotton it is.

As I was working, I noticed something that I first noticed last fall while working on the Cobra Sweater. Every once in a while, I do something weird while knitting stockinette. I think it happens on the wrong side as I'm purling across, and I think I'm purling into the stitch below. Perhaps one of my experienced readers can let me know? It's not as noticeable in wool -- in wool, you can feel it more than you can see it. But in cotton, boy can you see it! A weird little bump. Here's an example to the left. As I got back to knitting this morning, I saw many of these. I'm talking dozens. How did I miss this yesterday? I laddered down and fixed a few, but then I started inspecting more closely, and decided to just frog it back to the bottom.

What you see in the first picture is my progress after hours and hours of work. Sigh. I'm going to be more mindful of my purling on this from now on to try and avoid this in the future.

Postscript (8:37pm): It appears I was knitting, not purling, into the row below. To keep gauge, I've been knitting very tightly. So tightly, in fact, that I can't see the bar across the bottom of the stitch -- it's hiding behind the needle, making it quite easy to knit into the stitch below. Now that I know what to look for, things are going much better.

Wetfield

Finally. A wet, rainy weekend in Austin. I know, right? It was starting to feel like it would never rain again, as if we should all just give in and resign ourselves to the fact that we had just been annexed into the newest development in the northeastern suburbs of the Chihuahuan desert. But did it ever rain yesterday! I took advantage of the sogginess and a break in the rain to get some weeds pulled in the yard this morning. Two days ago they would have resisted with death grips, their roots entwined around the earth's core, but today they just slipped out with nary a protest. If we're supposed to make hay while the sun shines, we should also pull weeds while the ground is wet.

While the ground was getting saturated, I used the rainy days to catch up on knitting, too.

This is my progress so far on the Whitfield Jacket. I've finished the back and both sides of the front. I had to rip back a bit on the left side yesterday, when I came across those dreaded words that should never come as a surprise when reading a pattern -- "At the same time...." I always seem to read these after having plowed ahead. Everytime I read these words in a pattern, I'm reminded of Randall Thompson's "Testament of Freedom," the words of which are based on the writings of Thomas Jefferson: "The God who gave us life gave us liberty at the same time; the hand of force may destroy but cannot disjoin them." Here's a clip of a chorus singing this. Maybe it will remind you to look for the words, "At the same time, at the same time" in your patterns!

So now all that's left is the sleeves (and the sewing and the weaving in of ends and the blocking and the buttons). I got started on the sleeves at a meet and greet for Amy Singer at The Knitting Nest this afternoon. It was a nice, low-key affair with lots of good conversation and yummy grub. Stacy is the perfect hostess for this sort of thing. Several knitting friends were in attendance. I also got to meet Wendy and Jim (I hope I got that right) from San Antonio, friends of Janna's.

All in all, a great knitting-filled weekend.

KnitFlix

Bette Davis could knit. Who knew? And she actually knew what she was doing. This scene of Bette Davis knitting on the deck of a cruise ship is from Now, Voyager (1942).





Granted, she's knitting what appears to be a garter-stitch swatch for what I can only hope is a much more fabulous garment, but I suppose that's doing pretty well when one has taken to the high seas to get away from an overbearing Boston Brahmin mother and is putting the finishing post-breakdown touches on what we refer to today as doing one's "work." Here she learns about a rather dashing man she's been cavorting with from one of his friends, played by Lee Patrick. Love Bette's glasses. And it looks like Lee loves her glass. That's one tall drink!

Give this movie a chance. Not much action, but plenty of drama. And some excellent acting by Davis. Her creepy Baby Jane voice is just starting to develop. It also stars the always awesome Claude Rains, my favorite character actress of all time, Mary Wickes, and Gladys Cooper as the too-controlling mother. Apparently, she was good at this sort of thing. A few decades later she showed her domineering chops as Henry Higgins' mother in My Fair Lady.

I love finding knitting in movies.

Desperate Times...

...call for desperate measures. Like buying a 14" pair of size 7 straight needles at, well, let's just say the name of this big box store is somewhat reminiscent of, but is definitely not, Wool-Mart. This is the one option in my in-laws' little town because I left my size 7 Addi Click tips at home.

There used to be the coolest little knitting shop here in Granbury, Texas called Dot's that had the best yarn and knitting accoutrement. I called it my far-away local yarn shop, and my in-law's got me gift certificates to this shop so that I could go on shopping sprees when I was up for visits. Good times! The staff was so helpful and not at all weirded out by a guy coming into to buy yarn. Alas, Dot's is no more.

But I'm now back on track, plugging away at the Whitfield Jacket on a sleepy holiday weekend Sunday afternoon. What could be better -- besides having remembered to bring those darned size 7 needle tips? (Actually, I kind of like this snazzy anodized aluminum purple they came in.) Hope your Labor Day weekend is full of lots of relaxing knitting.

Word Cloud

I'm totally copying Janelle here, but I thought this was cool. We've actually been using Wordle at work for a few things. Never though to apply it to my blog.

Without further ado, a Wordle image of my blog. Note that Janelle gets a shout-out on the far right! How did the word therapist get in there?...

Whitfield

I bought a pattern for Anne Hanson's Whitfield Jacket at The Sock Summit earlier this month. I, too, thought it was strange that I would buy a non-sock pattern at a meeting devoted to footwear. But I saw a women's version of this on a mannequin, and the helpful salesperson at Briar Rose Fiber's helped me find this. It was mentioned in one of my classes later, so apparently I'm hanging ten on the wave of men's knitting fashions.

I wasn't capable of making decisions at the Briar Rose booth to choose some of the gorgeous yarn they had. I couldn't figure out yardage, plus my brain, while not focused on sock patterns, was still focused on sock yarns. I just wasn't in the mood. When I got home, I swatched with some leftover Cascade Eco Wool, but wasn't happy with the results. Then, I remember that I still had some bucks left on a gift card from Knit Picks.

Yesterday, several hanks of Knit Picks Swish Bulky in Onyx Heather (there are at least two awesome drag queen names in that phrase -- see if you can find them) arrived on my doorstep. I like this stuff. Very soft and I got gauge on my first try. Well, actually just slightly under gauge, but just spreading the fabric out by hand worked. I checked gauge with a new iPhone app that Janelle hipped me to, KnitGauge. You just pick two points on your fabric, count the number of stitches between them, line up the "pins" on your screen with the points, and voilà!, it tells you your stitch (or row) gauge. Genius.

So, I started a heavy wool jacket yesterday -- a day that reached 102 degrees. I suppose I'm engaging in magical thinking, hoping that I can invoke cooler weather by knitting warm clothing.

It was 104 today...

قرطبه

Translated, or rather, transliterated, that's "Qurţuba," the Arabic name of the city in Spain founded by the Romans and today known as Córdoba. The city became known for the production of horse leather, and in English, the word "cordovan" refers to this leather and/or its rich burgundy/brownish color. Thus ends today's history and linguistics lesson.

I started these Cordovan Socks, made from Malabrigo Sock in the Cordovan colorway at the Sock Summit. I'd started some with this yarn before I left Texas a week or so before, but I'd picked a too-busy pattern for this dark yarn and it just wasn't reading. While taking The Max back and forth to the Summit, Janelle was working on a very cool pattern, and I just decided to copy her. She was knitting socks in a pattern called Charade by Sandra Park (a free Ravelry pattern). I'm not using the sock pattern, but I am using the stitch pattern. Otherwise, I'm basically using the same toe-up construction I used on the 14505 socks, upping my usual 72 stitches to 76 to make thing come out evenly. And I'm using Charlene Schurch's More Sensational Knitted Socks as a guide through the heel turn.

While knitting these, the late Ricardo Montalban's voice keeps going through my head, describing the "soft Corinthian leather" of his Chrysler Cordoba. Corinth, Cordoba -- hey, it's all Mediterranean. My college roommate had one of these babies. That lead sled was a smooth ride...

One of things we discussed in Stephen Houghton's Making Socks Manly class, was how the male foot is differently anatomically than the female foot. Some of the proportions around the ankles are different, meaning that just adding stitches or going up a needle size may not be enough. Heel flaps might need to be longer, insteps might need to be narrower and any shaping needs to take place further up the leg. I'm trying to be mindful of this as I kind of wing this pattern, but it's so easy to fall back on what I've done before.

I got some cool patterns at the Sock Summit. And one is not even a sock. More about them later.

Summit Wrap-Up

Wow. I'm so tired and energized at the same time. I can't say that I recommend going to a very busy, class-packed sock-o-rama within days of climbing the highest mountain in the continental U.S., but I'm still glad I did both. My posts from the road were made with a cruddy phone camera and less than ideal internet connectivity conditions, so I thought I'd add this wrap-up to cover some of the highlights of what was a very memorable four days.

On my first day, I had a 6-hour class with Nancy Bush, chronicler of Estonian knitting and author of many knitting books, only one of which I have: Knitting Vintage Socks. This class was built around this book, so it was a mixture of history and techniques. We made a we sample sock using methods from Weldon's as she taught. And, in this picture, you can see some of the socks that were photographed for the book. Knitted celebrities!

That evening, we were treated to an early run at the marketplace -- acres and acres of yarn booths. It really was a bit much. I tried to be restrained (I posted earlier with my actual purchases), but it wasn't easy. It was wonderful to see Caro there selling bags like hotcakes. It was also cool to see fellow knitters in classes throughout the weekend pulling out their Splityarn bags.

Day two was a class on using handpainted yarn with Merike Saarniit. Her class was about how to use handpainted yarns and solid (or semi-solid) yarns to create beautiful color effects. It was challening and quick-paced, but we managed to knit several examples in the class and mine turned out great. I'll definitely be incorporating some of these techniques into my sock knitting. That afternoon we helped break the Guinness World Record for the number of people knitting in one place simultaneously. A local TV crew shot some footage, and my tummy, clad in a Knitting Nest t-shirt, appears at about 2 minutes in. The gentleman speaking while I knit was in some of my classes and Janelle and I had an opportunity to chat with him during the conference.

Knitters attempt to break Guinness World Record

Day three involved two classes taught by Stephen Houghton of the Yknit podcast. One was about making hems for socks -- the sock's "third edge." I LOVED the Channel Islands cast on that he taught. It took me a while to get it, but it does create a nice crenelated edge -- kind of the effect of 1x1 ribbing just, well, stopping. His second class was about making socks for men -- choosing yarns, colors and patterns that work, as well altering lacy patterns to be more studly.

I'm not always comfortable monkeying with patterns, but he did give me a lot to think about -- and maybe a little confidence that I might be able to do it. I also go to meet his personality-filled pooch, Janie Sparkles. I think she was the knitting celebrity I most enjoyed meeting the whole week!

On the last day, I took Carson Demers class on knitting ergonomics. He is a physical therapist as well as a knitter, so he had some great insight into the strange positions that knitters put themselves in to pursue their craft. (I just had to remind myself to sit up a bit straighter!) He was an excellent teacher -- anyone who sits and does anything for any length of time should take his class. Later, in the marketplace, Janelle and I posed for a picture as superheroes at a booth for a knitting comic called HandKnit Heroes. We called our epic battle The 2 Circs vs. Magic Loop Smackdown!

The afternoon featured a panel of knitting luminaries. It was amazing to hear these women, who have been so influential in the world of modern knitting, speak. I mean, I was sitting in the room with Barbara Walker, inventor of SSK, the left-leaning decease I use the most. How awesome is that? At the end, on what would have been Elizabeth Zimmerman's 99th birthday, we sang her happy birthday and all ate cake.

Perfect.

Sock Summit, Day Four

The first ever Sock Summit is over. I'm exhausted.

This morning, I attended an excellent workshop on knitting ergonomics with physical therapist Carson Demers. VERY informative with lots to think about. He was quite enabling about buying more yarn and more anatomically friendly furniture. More yarn and new furniture? Total win-win!

Knitting comfort is all about finding a balance between efficiency, performance and safety, all of which I'm going to be more mindful after this great class.

Around noon, I saw this cool sock knitting machine demoed (see photo above). I'm still fascinated by them, but I no longer want one -- too fiddly.

This afternoon we attended a Luminary Panel featuring such personages as Lucy Neatby, Cat Bordhi, Priscilla Gibson-Roberts, Meg Swansen, Barbara Walker, Judith MacKenzie-McCuin, and Nancy Bush, among others. We all sang Happy Birthday and had cake on what would have been Elizabeth Zimmerman's 99th birthday.

So it's back to Austin tomorrow. Maybe I'll post more details then. Right now, I'm very, very weary.

Sock Summit, Day Three

Today I took two classes from Stephen Houghton (hizknits) of Yknit. In Hip Hems for Him & Her, we learned about cool cast-ons and hems to make "the third side" of socks look sharp. And in Making Socks Manly, we discussed all aspects of knitting socks for the men in our lives, from color to style to masculinizing lacey motifs into something guys might wear. He was a knowledgable, humorous, and patient teacher -- take a class from him if you get a chance.

But the highlight of my day was meeting none other than the internationally famous ce-web-rity, Miss Janie Sparkles.

Indeed, she does!

Sock Summit, Day Two

On Friday, I took a class with Merike Saarniit on using solids mixed with handpaints in socks -- a very intense 3 hours, to say the least!

Then, Janelle and I participated in the Guiness World Record for the number of people knitting simultaneously. Word on the street was that there were just under 1000, but it seemed like more. Here is a picture of a few of our fellow knitters.

I hear I might be in a video about this somewhere, but I can't view Flash videos on my phone. :-(

Sock Summit, Day One

Yesterday's class with Nancy Bush was awesome, of course. In addition, we went to a quite emotional (and giddy) opening ceremony in the evening. But, before that, we spent a little time in the Summit's marketplace. What fun! I stopped by Caro's booth to get this cool bag (I clearly need more) and got the following sock yarn (left to right):

Lisa Souza sock yarn in the colorway Black Coffee

Wool Candy BFL in colorway Caramel
Toots LeBlanc Jacob/Alpaca/Mohair

All lovely colors, or, as my knitting friends might say, non-colors.

Knitting on the Road

This is me in front of Twisted in Portland on the eve of The Sock Summit. An awesome shop.

Tons of sock knitters around -- kind of frightening, actually. Tomorrow is my class with Nancy Bush!

I'm just doing fast and dirty phone blogging -- more details when I get home. But in the meantime, check out my kniiting and traveling companion Janelle's far more detailed and insightful posts:

Tourists Boost Local Economy
Cupcakes & Crobots, Cha, Cha, Cha!
Portland, Day 3

14,505

That is the elevation, in feet, of Mt. Whitney, up which my two feet were clad in these cozy socks. Mt. Whitney is the highest peak in California and also in the lower 48 states. I'm fairly certain I was the only hiker on Whitney in handknit footwear. We climbed over 6,000 feet in elevation during a 22-mile round trip hike to get there, but it was worth it. It even snowed on us!

We're in the lovely Sequoia National Park today and tomorrow, and then it's off to Portland and a summit of a very different nature!

Into the West

Here is little Johnathan, now four months old, teething, and finally getting to enjoy the cozy baby blanket I knitted for him on a 100+ degree day. Poor thing. He seems to like it, though. While I was quite capable of getting this knitted before he arrived, I was incapable of getting it in the mail or driving across town to get it to him for four months. How lame is that? Like a bad actor, lousy comedian or poky pizza guy, I need to work on my delivery.

Just a quick post to announce that posting may be hit or miss over the next two weeks. The day after tomorrow Jeff and I head to the southern Sierras in California for a week of site-seeing and hiking with my brother. I don't get to spend nearly enough time with him and I'm really looking forward to hanging out with my little bro in the great outdoors. And then, of course, it's up to Portland and The Summit.

This afternoon I dropped by The Knitting Nest to make sure I was all set with circulars and DPNs and yarn for the classes I'm taking. Fortunately, none of my classes require homework, but I do have to have all kinds of needle sizes and yarn types. It's a bit confusing. I have a few days to take care of last-minute things once I get up there, so I'm not terribly worried. I'm more worried that everyone else in the classes is going to be light-years ahead of me skill-wise and that I'll have trouble keeping up. I know this isn't true, but I have to worry about it anyway. That's just me.

I'll try to do a bit of blogging from the road, but if it happens it will be sporadic. Of course, I'll share in more detail upon my return. I'm so excited!

Postscript

I finished the 14505 socks tonight, so I thought I'd add this to the post. The plan is to use these as hiking socks on the trip. Hopefully, I'll have some exciting shots of them in action on the trail in a week or so. Why am I calling these 14505 socks? You're welcome to guess, but if you do, please don't comment on this post and spoil the fun. Just email me directly (stevenself at gmail.com). Stay tuned!

Green Socks

I'm making some socks. And they're green. As students in my library would say, "I know, right?"

Now that you've recovered, I can give you a few more details. I'm making these for an upcoming hiking trip that Jeff and I will be taking with my brother. I didn't know Cascade made sock yarn (how didn't I know this?), but The Knitting Nest had a whole bunch of this green. It knits up wonderfully -- very sturdy -- perfect for hiking. Plus it's put up in 437 yd. hanks, so plenty of yarn for a lengthy pair of manly socks. AND it was only $12.00 What's not to like? This colorway is known as Mossy Rock. I like to think it's named after a Tacoma Public Utilities park where my family spent a very soggy Memorial Day weekend in the mid-1970s. I remember it raining a lot, catching tadpoles and garter snakes and keeping them in coffee cans, and laughing hilariously when I heard my mom's friend Gerri uttering the phrase "crap-ola" while playing cards.

I'm using the six-stitch pattern dimensions from Charlene Schurch's More Sensational Knitted Socks, but I'm not following a particular pattern. I did a 24 stitch magic toe cast-on, increased to 72 stitches (my standard circumference), then started a 4x2 ribbing across the instep. I didn't want to work a short row heel, so I'm doing a heel flap where the flap is actually on the sole. It worked pretty well. I did a slip-stitch heel for reinforcement purposes, but I don't know that it's noticeable. I wanted to put these cool blast-from-the-past stripes in with some leftover KnitPicks Essential that I had, but I made the cuff too short, so what you see here is more than is what is on the needle now. I had to do some ripping back. But overall, I'm pleased.

I need to get this pair done before I leave next Saturday.

Herz Broken

Do you remember the third Star Trek movie? It was the one between Star Trek II, where Kirk yells the immortal "Khaaaaaaaaan!" and the fourth one where they go back in time to San Francisco to save the whales. I thought so -- hardly anyone remembers it. One of the plot points involves getting Spock's soul out of Dr. McCoy and re-implanting it in Spock's body during a very rare and dangerous Vulcan ritual. The point of all this is the outfit Spock wears during this process. You see, I just made a cabled version of it.

Get a load of those shoulders. Yep -- I made that. I read some time ago that when looking at the modeled shots of knitted objects, one should pay special attention to the parts of the garment you can't see in the photos. In the photos for the Herz & Baum Vest in Guy Knits, the model is always wearing a jacket over the vest. You cannot see what the armholes look like. That's because, unless you're a linebacker, these armholes are going to stick out. I mean really stick out. Ridiculously far.

I'm not sure what to do at this point. I think I may just chalk this up to experience -- knit and learn. I put a LOT of work into this, but I'm not going to wear it if I'm going to look like a clown -- or a Vulcan going through fal-tor-pan. If anyone has any ideas -- besides donating this to Home for the Criminally Broad-Shouldered, please let me know.

To help get my mind off this colossal disappointment, I buckled down and finished the Sailor's Rib Socks that I made out of Malabrigo. Beautiful color, perfect match of yarn pattern to stitch pattern, and they fit wonderfully. So there.

Plus, I've got in mind another pair of socks that I want to knit for an upcoming special milestone. I'll share some of it, but I think I'll keep some of it back as a surprise. We'll see...

Steekcam

I know y'all must get tired of hearing about these damned steeks. I am too. So they are now gone. Snipped, cut and forever divided.

I started the final process yesterday with Jene. She took a few whacks at the neck steek and did a great job. Then we went and had awesome hot and sour soup at the Bamboo Garden, which I can definitely recommend. Today, I finished up at The Knitting Nest where Julia snipped a few stitches, too. Here she is in action. Look at that steady hand!






When Staci clomped in, I got her to shoot a little video of steek cutting with my point-n-shoot camera. Listen to Staci's and my witty observations as you watch the horror that occurs when scissors meet knitted fabric. Seriously, folks. Just knit up a swatch, make a crochet steek somehwere in the middle of it, and then cut it in half. It will work, it will hold, and then when you need to apply this to real knitting life, you won't be scared. Well, you'll still be scared, but at least you won't faint. One hopes.

I started the neck band at the shop and then finished it when I got home. There's a little weirdness going on at the bottom of the neck where the decreases bring things to a point. I may have to do some structural weaving behind it to make it all work. It's just a little gappy.

I tried it on at the shop, and much as I expected, I looked rather obscene and Brüno-esque in it. Those of you who were at The Knitting Nest are probably wishing you could un-see that. Definitely not a pretty sight. The effect brought to mind a giant green braided sausage. But it's been soaked and stretched and will soon be ready to go. I promise a modeled shot once it's dry.

A Call to Armholes

I didn't realize it until just now, but my last post was my 200th. Kind of hard to believe.

I'm still waiting to cut the neck steek, but I had a bit of time on my hands and I'm itching to get this thing done. I went ahead and added one of the armhole bands. I was anxious to see how the crocheted steek would hold during the process since I would have to pick up and knit just two stitches over from the crochet chain. No problems that I could see. It went fast, even if it was uncomfortable knitting with this thing on my lap while it was 100+ degrees outside.

While knitting, I watched a strange little movie called Fido. It's about an alternative 1950's America in which, after the end of a worldwide zombie war, zombies are used as personal servants. Quite strange and quirky -- kind of Night of the Living Dead meets Pleasantville. The 50s-ness is awesome. It's a little gory, but not as much as your average zombie movie.

But I digress. The picture on the left shows the inside of the armhole. The lighter color yarn is what I used to make the crochet chains between which the steek was cut. It's bunched up in a few places -- I think that's where I skipped a few stitches to make the number come out even around the armhole. Originally, I was thinking I would need to tack this down in some fashion, but it sees to naturally fold flat -- possibly because I picked up the stitches for the armhole band along a purl gutter in the pattern. I'm not sure if that was the intent, but it seems to have worked for me.

Although this looks like regular 2x2 ribbing, there are actually two small sections that for a few rounds are 3x3. Then that is decreased back to 2x2. These are are both down toward the bottom of the armpit. Why would you do that? Perhaps to give some ease or keep something from puckering, but it's just four stitches decreased over a total of 160. Could it really matter? Click on the top picture and see the note at Flickr that shows where this occurs. Go ahead -- live on the wild side.

A Steek, Well Done

If I say so myself. No problems at all. There are two little strings at the cast on edge, but, as I hoped they would, they just tightened into the crochet stitch above when I gave them a little tug. Whew!

I know that some people expressed interest in watching this from the knitter's version of an operating theater, but I just couldn't wait. I wanted to try one of the armholes first -- for some reason, that seemed "safer" than cutting the neck. Since it's evening, I couldn't get enough good light for a video from my point-and-shoot camera, but there are still two steeks to go.

Really, people, you should try this. It's kind of fun. Like you're getting away with something. And I have -- so far!

Steeks and Geeks

I decided to go with the 3-needle bindoff for the shoulders of the Herz & Baum Vest, which you can see to the right. It was just a matter of using a set-up row to cast of the stitches that wouldnt' be included in the shoulder seems (paying careful attention to the math), and then doing the bind-off. It's not super-tidy, but it does offer the advantage of making the patterns on the front and back meet perfectly. If I'd sewn these seems, I'd have had to play that game where you're always half a stitch off. That would have made my brain hurt. No brain pain for me! It looks like a corner on the left side of the bindoff, but there are actually four cast-of stitches across there for the armhole steeks.

Now, to the steeks. You know how you read the pattern instructions carefully, and then get started, and then, three weeks later when you actually get to some important new structure (like a steek), you think you know all that already? Can you imagine the problems this might cause? I thought so. I forgot that the instructions required twisting two rows in the steek so that the crochet run through those rows would be tighter. This method went up the center of a column of stitches, and not across the halves of two neighboring columns. Not so stable without twisted stitches. Well, that was out -- maybe I could try it without the twisted stitches, but I was scared. Then I thought, "No problem, I'll just use Eunny Jang's instructions for crocheted steeks, which I'd used before on a tea cozy." But that method requires an odd number of steek stitches. Grrr...

So I waited all week until I could consult with the geniuses at knitting. One option we came up with was unbinding the bindoff, then laddering the two rows down and twisting them with a crochet hook and then rebinding off. Tedious, but do-able. Then, knitting genius Staci pointed out that if I just turned the vest (and that frown) upside down, I'd have an odd number of stitches across the steek -- 4 would become 3. So simple, so easy. All I had to do was start the crochet chain at the opposite end of the steek I'd planned. The picture to the right shows in red the "V"s of the three stitch rows (with a little left over on each side. The blue lines show the neighboring halves of stitches that will be bound together by the crochet chain, and the green dotted line shows where the final act will take place.

I've begun the chain already. I was going to use the same yarn, but then I chickened out and found some similar Cascade 220 green yarn (I know you're shocked that I had this), and got started. Ideally, I'd have a little more wiggle room. When I'm done crocheting each side, I'll have a knit and a purl stitch left to fold under. I'm hoping this will give me enough sturdiness for picking up the stitches necessary for the neck and armhole bands. I'm knitting the chain fairly tightly with a pretty small hook, so I think I'm good.

If I can get up the nerve, I might post a video of the slicing. Don't worry, Jene, I'll be sure and save some for you to see live and in person.

Then Refresh His Heart

A few years ago, the men's chorus I sing with performed Brahms' Alto Rhapsody with Rose Taylor. It was a totally enjoyable experience, my first with singing Romantic music like this. Kind of hard to describe -- bleak, yet uplifting at the same time. I only remember snatches of the German lyrics, but as I've been working on this Herz & Baum vest, the phrase so erquicke sein Herz has been going through my mind -- "then refresh his heart."

And I suppose I have been a bit refreshed. This vest languished for a short while, but I got back up to speed recently and today I finished the last of the 24 neck decreases which take place every third round. I have only a few more rows to go until I've got the sleeve holes knit to the requisite length. Even then, I might add a bit more. Most of my height manifests itself in my torso, so I want to make sure this is long enough.

It's clear from the instructions that I am to bind off once I get to the top and then sew the shoulder seams after cutting the steeks. But I'm wondering if it would be possible to bind off just the stitches along the back of the neck during the last round, and then use a 3-needle bindoff on the live stitches between the back and front. Would that work? Which would provide a firmer shoulder seam -- 3-needle bind off or sewing up after a regular bindoff? Right now I'm leaning toward seaming, but it's not going to be easy with all these cables...

On an unrelated note, I somtimes get asked about the title of my blog. It comes from the lyrics in the number Some People from what is arguably the best Broadway musical ever, Gypsy. Just a relevant sample:

Some people can get a thrill
knitting sweaters and sitting still.
That's okay for some people
who don't know they're alive.

Despite the fact that these lyrics knock knitting, this really is a great musical. The original movie version with Rosalind Russel is bland. The made-for-TV version with Bette Midler is better. But nothing beats the original Broadway production with Ethel Merman. Gypsy is 50 this year, and they've just released an anniversary version of the original cast album. If you've never seen this musical, do so. And if I haven't convinced you, listen to this review that aired on Fresh Air a few weeks ago.

Take From Me My Lace

Today, I got to take Franklin Habit's lace knitting class at The Knitting Nest. So cool. I was fortunate to get to see him a little over a year ago when he came to Austin for his 1,000 knitters project, and it was good to see him again.

I'd dabbled in lace a bit -- see this pair of socks and this baby blanket -- but didn't have much of a context for it. No "big picture," if you will. This class helped with that. Franklin covered the basics and the ground rules -- and then told us when we could break them. I found his presentation of three different schools of lace knitting (Orenburg, Shetland and Estonian), intriguing from a history point of view. He also talked about how shawls in each of these traditions are constructed. He passed around pictures and examples from his own knitting. I even got to try on his 1840 Nightcap! Sadly, I didn't get to keep it. But it did fit my ginormous head.

While he talked, we got to work on a scarf pattern that he had created. The pattern (blurred by me) and swatch, along with a few of my notes, are to the left. It wasn't so complicated that we couldn't follow the chart while he talked. And I really liked that he introduced us to the pattern, but didn't read us through the whole thing. Franklin is a natural teacher and it was a real treat to see him in action. Oh -- and on the flip side of the pattern, there was a bibliography of essential lace knitting books. Be still my librarian heart!

If you have a chance to take this class, do so. I suspect even if you know quite a bit about lace knitting, you'll learn a thing or two. And that's always good. Thanks, as always, to the Nest for bringing him here. And thanks, Franklin!

Busting Out All Over

June's here. I feel like knitting, but it's awfully hot for it. Especially with this bulletproof wad of wool on your lap. Even the AC blasting doesn't help. This thing is getting seriously hot. I didn't knit on it at all this week. I was so excited to finally get to the steeks, but a few rows in, I kind of lost my mojo.I'm a little paranoid that I'm not doing the decreases correctly. The pattern doesn't say specifically where to make them. but based on the pattern the steeks grew out of, I think I've got something workable and mostly symmetrical.

It's a little hard to describe, but working out from all the edges of all three steeks I've got a purl, a knit, and then another knit row where the decreases are worked. If you know what you're looking for, you can kind of see this at top center of the picture at the top of this post, near the orange stitch marker. I've consulted with knitters more knowledgeable than myself, and they've given me the go ahead. But as soon as I got it, I stopped. I'm going to try and get back to it today before I totally lose my momentum on this.

Unlike the vest, I'm going gangbusters on the Sailor's Rib Socks. I finished knitting the first one last night and wove in the ends this morning. I cast on the second one right away (sock knitters know why), but it took me three tries. I kept making dumb little cast-on mistakes. That's what I get for trying to knit while watching mindless TV. The mindlessness is contagious.

I think I've gotten closer to balancing the sock pattern to yarn color ratio than I have with previous pairs. The striping is quite subtle and doesn't fight the ribbing pattern at all. I've yet to get a picture that properly represents the deep purpleness of this Malabrigo sock yarn. I've never been a huge purple fan, but this I like.

So I'll be plugging away at these two projects while I eagerly await the weekend. I've never taken a knitting class in my life. I'm pretty comfortable with learning from books (a fortunate occupational hazard), and I'm blessed to know several very talented knitters. So I'm a little nervous, but very excited, to be taking a lace knitting class that will be taught at the Knitting Nest on Saturday by Franklin Habit. It's going to be a blast!