The things knitters say

First, a quick Shrug Slog update: I am about three inches away from finishing the back. Again. At that point, I will seam up the sides and try it on. If it does not seem to more closely approximate the fit that I want and see in the pattern photos, I will concede defeat. The only question left at that point will be whether the yarn will be frogged (again) and repurposed (in several years, when I am less bitter), or whether there will be a bonfire.

Some thoughts on the Shrug Slog and similar: Those of you who are more perspicacious than I (and evidence would suggest that this is all of you) may note that I did this exact same thing last fall, while knitting a sweater for the exact same conference, because I am presenting a paper on knitters and wish to Represent. Not only are those elements all the same, up to and including the frogging of a (this year nearly-, last year entirely-) complete sweater, but there is a structural similarity to the garments as well. They are both origami-type knits. Clever. Interesting. But put together in such a way that it is not possible to try them on as one goes. In fact, it isn't possible to get any sense at all of whether they will fit until they are done. I'm coming to the conclusion that such garments do not best suit my knitting style, and/or my personality (still contemplating where, exactly, the mismatch lies); in any case, I will be forewarned in the future. I should note that these experiences only reinforce my long-standing prejudice against cleverness for cleverness' sake. I'm all for cleverness that addresses an actual problem, or that makes things easier. Cleverness that only exists so that people can gasp in awe at the cleverness of the creator, not so much. I'm fairly ecumenical in my dislike; most of the snide marginalia I append to journal articles/conference presentation handouts/the notes I take during conferences, are for people who make up clever theories that really don't do anything that pre-existing theories don't already do (I'm currently struggling to see what Bakhtin's chronotopes do for us, really - can you tell?).

Harrumph.

Anyway, as I struggle through my conference sweater, so am I struggling through my conference presentation, which is a paper in a session entitled "Circulating Discourses", and which has to do with discourses about knitters through time. I currently have culled 27 pages of quotes, falling into about 12 major themes, from my data and from (in particular) No Idle Hands, a brilliant book with an amazing range of quotes from primary source. (Note: this is a 15-minute presentation; further culling is required.) The common themes are quite striking (either that, or I've spent far too much time thinking about this - also a possibility). Just one set of quotes you might find interesting:

Lydia Sigourney, writing in the early 1800, recommended knitting as “quiet employment, favourable to reflection … a ready vehicle of charity to the poor … [and] well adapted to save those little fragments of time which might else be lost.” (No Idle Hands:54)

From my online survey: “I enjoy the process and the product. Knitting relaxes me, keeps my hands busy but my mind free. And there is nothing better than handknit socks.” (Survey 8/9/09)

Also from my online survey: “Knitting is a creative activity, a productive activity and also provides stress relief. It helps me to concentrate when listening through lectures or difficult meetings.” (Survey 7/28/09)

Some things apparently don't change all that much.

Life continues

Thank you all so much for the supportive comments. The roughness is smoothing out, and that's a good thing. I've been wearing my Urban Aran these last couple of days, as it's cooled off just enough (caveat: cooled off by SoCal standards, so there's no need to mock -- I know it's not actually cool at all) that I can wear it in the shade if it's breezy and I have a short-sleeved shirt on underneath. Heh.

I ended up restitching the zipper in the sweater more neatly, using the original stitching as, essentially, basting, and making the stitches even and more hidden. I think that this is probably the way to install zippers in general (I'm also guessing that everyone else in the world already knows what I'm about to say, but you know me -- I've just got to learn things the hard way). The basic process was to first pin the zipper in place in the sweater, while the zipper was zipped up, so that I could adjust it to sit evenly when closed. Then baste, with the pins still in and the zipper still zipped up (it is almost impossible to do a nice job of sewing this way, but the benefit is that it is possible to continue to check that everything is even on both sides as you go). The last step is to then open the zipper, and to sew each side in much more neatly, paying attention to hiding the stitches underneath the slipped stitch on each edge, and to making the stitches even and close to the zip on the back side.
I don't know how clearly you can see that, but I think it looks much neater than before, and I will leave it this way, with the shorter zipper. As nice as the collar looks standing up, that isn't the way I'm most likely to wear it, given the weather I live with, and it makes much more sense to have it be a deep folded-over collar, which is how I've been wearing it. It has a bit of the shawl-collar feel to it, in a good way. (That's how I'm wearing it in the pictures from the last post.)

I've also finished the first of Rick's socks and have cast on for the second. I'm most of the way through the toe increases, remembering as before to increase only half of them evenly on both sides, and the rest only along one side so the socks will fit Rick's feet more closely. The trick is going to be to remember to make the heel flap on the correct side so that this second one will be for his right, rather than his left, foot. I'd better be sure not to start the heel flap in a meeting...

I've also been doing some spinning lately. I'm still working on the last of the fiber that I need to spin so that I can ply the heel and toe sock yarn from the Institute this summer. But I decided that I needed to work on something else, so I brought out the Pipy this weekend and spun up some of the absolutely gorgeous Bunny and the Beast fiber that Fuzzarelly sent me too long ago to mention. I'd been spindling it up slowly, but I decided I really wanted to go for it, and a wheel was needed to get the job done. The fiber is a merino/silk/angora blend, and it is an absolute dream to spin. And the colors! Man alive, that batt had the most gorgeous colors in it, and in a two-ply yarn, I think they really came out.
I'm sorry there aren't better pictures, but I realized that if I waited until I was home in daylight to take them, I wouldn't post until the weekend. I hope you can see the gorgeous raspberries and violets and deep purples in there, because they're incredibly rich. My mother-in-law saw the little skein that I'd already spun on a spindle (in front there) when she was visiting a bit ago, and made drool-y, admiring noises, so I told her (in a fit of inexplicable generosity - since when am I generous?) that this would be her birthday present. (Note, in the interests of full disclosure, I should mention that I have another batt, all in blues and greens and gold, stashed away where no-one can drool at it in front of me. Mine, mine, all mine...) So here it is, about 80 yards of heavy fingering weight loveliness (I haven't measured wpi yet).
I think you might be able to see both the colors and the weight a bit more clearly there. I soaked it and hung it to dry, and I think I got the ply twist just about exactly right, as it hung straight and true after its bath. I'm quite happy with it, and I just hope that there's enough for my mother-in-law to do a little something fun and luxurious for herself with it.

In other news, I just got today a book that I preordered some time ago, and have been waiting for with much anticipation: The Culture of Knitting. I'm very excited about reading it, especially as I start to really dig into getting ready for the paper I'm presenting at the beginning of December. This book is definitely geared towards the textile side of things, which I know much less about than I do about the community side of things (which was what my questionnaire was geared towards), so it's going to be a fascinating read, although I imagine that I'll miss some nuances that a textile expert will catch (Stella, do you have your copy yet?). Today I also downloaded, for the first time, a pdf of the results to some of the questions from the questionnaires. Given that most of the questions now have between 2100 and 2400 responses, there is a lot of data to work through (we're talking between 65 and 75 pages in each printout). I still haven't closed the survey down, though, so if you know someone who's been wanting to take it, it's available.

I'm looking forward to getting away from politics a little bit more, and to spending some more time doing what I love to do: teaching, and thinking about this research project (plus a couple of others that have just been kicked off in my other field of research), and preparing to present some of that research to other folks in my field. (OK, I'm not sure I actually enjoy that last bit -- presentations give me the cold sweats -- but there is something to be said for actually saying some of these things out loud and getting feedback, so I understand the worth of the process.)

(Little Freudian slip there: I originally wrote "cold sweaters". Heh.)

Socks, and the survey

Well, it turns out that meetings are good for one thing: knitting. I've finished the wildflower socks, and cast on for a new pair of socks for Rick. Also, I forgot to share the heirloom tomato socks with you, so that goes in today's post, too. And then, an update on the survey (no, I have not forgotten, and neither, apparently, have you all).

I finished the last installment of the Rockin' Sock Club while I was at the Golden Gate Fiber Institute (turns out, that was a while ago!), and even wore them while I was there. It was cold enough that hand-knit socks were a real comfort to the toes, especially while spinning.

The pattern for these is In Season, and the yarn is STR lightweight, in the colorway Garden Daze. I used my size one Harmonys for these. This is the first pair of anklets I've ever done, and I erred on the side of longer by adding one pattern repeat to the ankle part. The pattern was great fun -- I really like the way it turned out.
Aren't the colors fabulous? This is one of those colorways that I probably wouldn't have picked for myself in a million years, but that I ended up adoring. I guess that's why I like doing this club so much; it makes me think a bit about my color and pattern prejudices.

I also finished the Wildflower socks last night, even though I can't for the life of me find my notions bag and, hence, my tapestry needle; thank goodness I had an extra tucked away elsewhere. (Does anyone know where it is, by the way? It's also got a small knit giftie for a friend in it, so I really do need to find it...)
These were a nice, fast, simple knit, which was exactly what I've been needing (although I'm finding myself drawn increasingly to more complex patterns; I think the solution to that has just arrived in the mail -- I'll share that next time).
These were knit in Handmaiden Casbah, using my new size one Signature needles (which I adored). I knitted them using a 1x1 corrugated rib for the top and the heel, and I added little wildflower knots (from one of the BW treasuries) whenever the mood took me. That was about it.

I cast on for Rick's new socks last night. I'm going to try some different shaping on the toe (I'm knitting these toe-up so I can eke every last bit of goodness out of the lovely March Hare yarn I'm using). If it works, they'll be left/right specific, and will fit his foot even better than the usual socks. We'll see.

On a completely different topic, let's talk about the survey. You all have outdone yourself filling it out. By the end of this past weekend, there were close to 300 totally completed surveys. Every time I checked in, there were more respondents, and I can't tell you how excited it made me. Then I got permission to post about it on Ravelry. As of this moment, I have 1,317 completed surveys.

1,317.

Imagine my shock. (You can also imagine the little hysterical giggles that erupt every time I check on the progress of the survey.)

Data, folks. What we have here are data.

As you might imagine, it's going to take me some serious time (of which I technically have 10% less this academic year) to read through all of the amazing and detailed responses that people have provided. I'm already having more fun looking through them than I really should be, given that this is, technically, work. But I thought you might like to see some initial statistical results, knowing that I'll be sure to share more with you as I go along.

98.3% of respondents so far are female;
Almost 75% are married or partnered;
52% do not have kids;
71% have completed collegiate or post-collegiate education;
39% of respondents said their stashes were “medium” (heh – that’s what I said); only 1.7% said they have no stash;
Almost 60% of respondents said they crochet; 60% also said they sew;
Almost 69% of respondents said they knit socks, by far the largest percentage for a type of project (that might need its own interview question…);
Lace and cables vie for top position, at 77 and 73% respectively;
We tend to knit for ourselves (88%) and our families (81%) most.

We're a pretty interesting bunch of people. I should also mention that the question that consistently gets the most commentary is the one about stash. There are those more technical questions like "what does constitute a medium stash, anyway?"*, and then there are the funnier and more personal comments about respondents' attitudes towards their stashes, their fears about the attitudes of their spouses/families/friends/neighbors/children toward their stashes, and their worry that they might run out of stash before they run out of interest in knitting. That may be a chapter all on its own.

So, if you haven't had a chance to fill the survey out, please feel free to do so, it'll be up for a while yet. And if you know of anyone at all who might also be interested in filling it out, please also feel free to pass on the url; this is open to all comers.

Meanwhile, Tilly thinks that I spend too much time in meetings, and not enough time with her.

*This summer, whilst in Scotland, Older Daughter was looking for me in a store and described me to the shopkeeper as a "middle-aged lady wearing gray". (!!) When it became clear that I was completely and utterly gobsmacked at being referred to as middle-aged (ah, denial, you lovely protective mechanism; I don't object to being middle-aged per se, I just want to live longer than right now times two!), Older Daughter asked, quite reasonably, exactly what middle-aged was, then? I told her that it's ten years older than I am. Always.

I think stash is like that. A "large" stash is 15 balls of yarn more than I have. Always.

A survey! And meditations on The Swatch

First: the survey is up! Thank you all so very much for all of your comments and thoughts on the survey, on knitting, and on the intersection of personal identity and knitting. I've saved all of those emails, and they've inspired me to do a lot of thinking -- always a good thing. I've incorporated most comments, as you'll see, and I appreciated every single one of them. I also got some fabulous help from two friends and colleagues who are knitters and who have a great deal more professional experience with surveys than I do; they are sadly blogless, but I think the survey makes much more sense because of them. And finally, three brave beta testers helped me out by taking the survey to be sure I hadn't missed something as I put it together online. Thank you all!

So, without further ado, here's the link to the survey:
http://www.surveymonkey.com/s.aspx?sm=vkhd9bXfYHDKbv1x2HeAZQ_3d_3d

You can cut and paste that into a browser and you're off to the races. I'm hearing that this takes about 20 minutes or so to fill out. I have also put a button in the sidebar (oh-so-creatively labelled Knitting Survey), so you can click on that. If you find this interesting, and are willing to point people to the survey either in person or through your blogs, that would be fabulous. The link above should work, or you can send them here to click the button (I think, in theory, that I could also give you the bit of code for the button, if you're really excited about advertising the survey for me; let me know in the comments and I'll email you about it). I'm pretty excited to start reading all of the responses. (Of course, the next step is to start actually analyzing the responses. I haven't quite faced up to what that's going to mean yet, so I'm sticking with excitement.)

I have another finished object today, but I'm feeling much less excited about this one. I've been putting in some serious time with the summer shell (Rav link) this week, hoping to finish it before I leave for the Golden Gate Fiber Institute tomorrow morning. (Not that I'll be able to wear it, even if I would wear it; I hear temperatures are hovering in the 50s. I'm very excited about that, actually, and have visions of Shawl That Jazz dancing in my head.) So I cast off last night after watching the Tour de France, washed it and dried it, and spent some time this morning weaving in ends and sewing on buttons.

I'm thinking that was all wasted work and that I'll be ripping it out. The only good thing is that maybe the yarn will be more pleasant to knit with now, having been washed. See what you think (and excuse the dorky look; this was a quick photo shoot in the midst of packing and doing laundry).
Do you see what I mean? Maybe this will clarify the problem.
That's my cranky face. It's saying, "Waist? What waist?"

What's particularly annoying about this is that I knitted the entire bottom half in 2x2 rib for exactly this reason. I wanted some shaping. So I cleverly (I thought) began the ribbing just below the bustline. In order to keep the decrease from being too dramatic, I only put in every other rib for the first couple of inches (so it was a 6x2 rib, essentially), and then went for the full 2x2 effect. I thought it was going to be great. Annoyingly, the swatch told me it was going to be great. Even after washing, the ribbing on the swatch drew in, and it shrank as much widthwise as it did lengthwise. The sweater itself, before being washed, pulled in nicely below the bustline. But here again we see the difference between the way a 5x5 inch piece of fabric acts, and the way a garment acts. Sometimes that difference doesn't lead to tragedy, sometimes, though...
I don't know. I can't decide whether I'm OK wearing it as a casual summer layering piece, over tank tops and t-shirts, at least for now, or whether it's just too unflattering and embarrassing, and I should rip it out yesterday. I'm tempted to take it along to the institute this week, where one of the classes I'm taking is a class on garment design. Maybe I could get some pointers for the next effort. Opinions?

And speaking of the institute, I will be gone for the next week, which means no blog posts and no email (I can't find in the description of the conference center any mention of the availability of internet access, so I'm not going to lug my computer). As much as I'm not excited about packing up and leaving again after only two weeks at home (and with the prospect of only two days at home between this trip and Sock Summit), I am very excited about the institute itself. The organizers have been tremendously patient with me as I've worked through several different travel plans (I was going to drive when I thought Rick and the girls were going to come one way with me to see Grandmom, but that won't work out for various reasons, and I wasn't relishing the thought of 16+ hours of driving by myself, so I'm flying; this, of course, necessitated all kinds of dithering about whether now is the right time to buy a folding wheel, but apparently it is, heh). The location of the institute is one of my very favorite on earth, on Point Bonita, a ten-minute walk from Rodeo beach. Fog, sand, cold, windy beaches. I'm taking one class on garment design and one on spinning. I will be learning a ton, and I'm guessing that I'll get to make all kinds of lovely observations of knitters and spinners in their natural habitats. I'll bring my camera, I promise.

So, I'm off. I can't wait to see all the survey responses start coming in, so if you have twenty minutes and are willing to answer questions about knitting, I hope you know how much I'd appreciate your participation. Thanks!

Feedback?

I still have at least one more Scotland post tucked away, plus one finished object to block and show you, as well as Younger Daughter's socks to photograph and display (not to mention the new pair I cast on), but I've been fiddling with this questionnaire, and I think that I need to get it out of my head and into the real world for some knitterly feedback. I am not yet asking anyone to actually respond to the questions; that will come very soon, once I've uploaded it to Survey Monkey (which will happen after I figure out how Survey Monkey works). My goal is to solicit responses sometime towards the end of this week (!!). Right now, what I'm hoping is that some or all of you might be willing (and have time) to read through these questions and tell me a) whether they make sense, and b) whether I'm missing some really obvious question that I absolutely ought to be asking in the final questionnaire. My leaning as a researcher is towards transparency, and towards the involvement of the "research subject" in the research itself: in defining the research question, and in refining the analysis of the data; hence my request for input at this stage.

Also, I should probably mention that I have not had access to incoming email since about 6:30 am yesterday (apparently I can send messages out, though); IITS peformed one of its "updates", the result of which is usually that something breaks catastrophically and leaves me stranded in a world without contact. I'm checking my Ravelry messages, though (which doesn't help at all with the work email that I'm sure is piling up). At least this time I'm not the only person whose email is down, which (I hope) should lead to quicker action.

Updated to add: I just started receiving email in my inbox. Huzzah!

So, without further ado: Questionnaire, Beta Version. (Note, for the purposes of this post, I am not including all of the reassuring verbiage about anonymity etc; it will most definitely be there, though.)

1. Age:

2. Sex: (circle one) Female Male

3. (Circle one): Single Married/Partnered

4. Children? (circle one) Yes No
If yes, how many?
Grandchildren? (circle one) Yes No
If yes, how many?

5. Highest level of education achieved:
High school Associate’s degree Bachelor’s degree Post-graduate degree

6. Annual household income:
< $10,000 $10,000-$25,000 $25,000-$40,000 $40,000-$60,000 $60,000-$80,000 $80,000-$100,000 >$100,000

7. Would you call yourself:
- Someone who knits
- A knitter

8. If you would call yourself “a knitter”, what marked the transition, for you, from being “someone who knits” to being “a knitter”?

9. How old were you when you first learned to knit?

10. How long have you been knitting?

11. Who first taught you how to knit?

12. Why do you continue to knit? What makes knitting so addictive or compelling?

13. What have you learned from knitting?

14. Approximately how many hours a week do you knit? (circle one)
<>20

15. How many projects do you generally have on the needles at a time?
1 2-5 6-10 >10

16. Approximately how much money do you spend per month on knitting (e.g. yarn, patterns, needles, bags, notions, etc)?
<$50 $50-100 $100-$250 $250-500 $500-$1,000 >$1,000

17. Do you have a dedicated knitting area in your house?

18. Do you have a stash of yarn? If so, would you call it a small, medium, large, or extra-large stash?

19. Do you also participate in other fiber crafts? (circle all that apply)
Crochet
Embroidery
Cross-stitch
Petit point
Spinning
Weaving
Quilting
Sewing
Other:

20. Where and under what circumstances do you usually knit? (circle all that apply)
At home alone
While watching TV/movies
While listening to the radio/music/audiobooks
At my children’s activities (e.g. sports games, recitals/rehearsals, practices,
playdates, etc)
While talking to friends
With my knitting group
At my local knitting store
While waiting for appointments (at doctors’ offices, post office, etc)
During meetings at work
On the bus/train/airplane
In airports, bus stations, etc
At restaurants
At the theater
Other:

21. If you knit in public (e.g. outside of knitting-oriented venues such as a knitting store, or outside your home), has anyone ever commented on your public knitting? If so, were the comments positive or negative? Can you give some examples?

22. What image do you think non-knitters have of knitters? Do you think it’s generally an accurate image?

23. Who makes up your “knitting community”? How would you define that phrase?

24. How often each week do you interact with other knitters? Where do these interactions take place? (At your local yarn store, knitting group, blogs/blog comments, Ravelry, other?)

25. Where do you get your knitting inspiration (e.g. to try new yarns, patterns, techniques, etc)? (circle all that apply)
Magazines
My local yarn store
My knitting group
Ravelry
Knitty.com
Knitting blogs
Pattern books
Knitting classes
Longer knitting workshops
Knitting conventions (e.g. Stitches West)
Myself
Other:

26. Are there any topics of conversations or words or phrases that you associate with knitters? If so, can you give some examples?

27. Where do you learn those topics/words/phrases?

28. How many projects, approximately, do you complete each year?
<10>50

29. What kinds of projects do you usually knit? (circle all that apply)
Socks
Slippers
Hats
Scarves
Mitts
Mittens
Gloves
Shawls
Sweaters
Skirts
Blankets
Baby clothes
Household items (pillow covers, tea cozies, etc)
Other:

30. For whom do you mostly knit? (circle all that apply)
Myself
My immediate family
My extended family
My friends
Charities
Other:

31. Does part of your income come from knitting or fiber-related activity (e.g. pattern-writing, making knitting notions/bags, working at/owning a yarn store, knitting for other people, etc)?

If so, approximately what percentage of your annual income comes from your business, and what form does that business take?

Actual knitting tomorrow -- stay tuned.

A piece!

I have produced blog fodder, in the form of the back of a sweater. Go, me. I actually finished this on Tuesday night, but I've been busy since then, so this is the first chance I've gotten to pin the back out and see how it looks. Meanwhile, though, I cast on for the left front side, and am almost to the armhole bind off, so that's going very quickly.
I only lightly steam blocked it to relax it a bit before pinning it out. Once I have the whole thing put together, I'll steam block it a bit more rigorously. (You can see I'm using those lovely blocking boards; they make life so much easier!) I took it out to the front patio to get some fresh air. I think that the colors are showing up truer here than in my earlier pictures.
I adore the colors of this yarn. Chris truly outdid herself, truly; I think she must be a mind-reader, since I don't think I was very clear about what I was looking for, but she nailed it on the head anyway. And these subtle color shifts work so beautifully with Anne's pattern; look at the corrugation above the waist, it's so much fun to watch the pattern emerging as I knit. Mmm...
It's so tempting to just sit down and plug away at this instead of doing anything else, because I'm dying to wear it. Thank goodness the weather has warmed up a little these last couple of days, or I don't think I could resist.
The Douglas irises love the new warmth. So does Tilly.
I rather wish it weren't so gorgeous, as I'm trapped inside working on a paper. The good news is that I (finally!) feel like I'm getting to a break-through point, that place where I have some kind of story arc going, and I can start putting data and analyses and references in the places where they belong. Until I have that order set in my mind, everything feels like a jumbled mess, but now that it's there, I think I can start getting somewhere (because 20 pages of single-spaced notes just doesn't feel like anything somehow, until it has a sense of order).

On a completely different note, my knitting research project is going to get underway imminently; I'll have a lot more to say about it very soon. I have a small grant to pay for things like an online survey site subscription, my new Marantz digital recorder has arrived in the mail (dudes, this thing is so full of features it's scary; I don't come with this many features), and I have my Institutional Review Board's approval to work with Human Subjects (that would be you all). It's time to get this show on the road.

Not my fault

Nope. I will not take the fall for this one. It's most definitely not my fault.

It all started with Ellen. She knit this. Gorgeous, isn't it? I read her posts about knitting it, and I followed the links to Solveig's website, and I lusted. To be fair, I'd already gone through a small period of smit with these beauties when Stephanie Pearl-McPhee knitted one, but this was full-fledged luuurve. I held off, though, for any one of a number of reasons, not the least of which being that there is very little opportunity to wear a very warm, yoked and stranded sweater here in San Diego. I put it on the list of "someday" projects and ignored the little twinges of want and regret.

And then along came mom. Her birthday's coming up, and it's a big one, and when we were talking about heading up north to celebrate with her, she made a birthday request. (As an aside, I actually like getting birthday requests, especially when it's for knitting; then I know what someone wants before I commit a lot of time knitting something else.) She wanted a tam, because she really likes them and only has one. Well, no sooner had she said that then I remembered the tam for which Solveig has a kit (go to the Bohus* link, and it's the large lace tam and scarf; but guys, I just went over there, and she's got a whole new slew of hat kits available. Who knew? No. Wait, must focus).

It was serendipity. Fate. I had to get one of those kits and knit my mom a tam, right?

Right. See? It's not my fault. (Shades of Belushi, here.)

I should say right out that these kits are amazing. Solveig was so wonderful on email; she wrote right back to me with a price and had it shipped out in no time, and I had it less than a week after I'd ordered it. The yarn was all there, in little skeins, with a beautiful chart. The pattern couldn't be clearer, and everything was so well organized. I wound everything up into little (sometimes very little) balls, found my size zero needles, and cast on.

That's right, I said size zero. Ellen, can I just tell you that as much as I truly admired the knitting of your sweater, I didn't really understand what went into it until I cast on for this tam? All I could think as I was knitting the two inches of ribbing on those little bitty needles was that you had done this for a whole sweater. That's just craziness. I mean, I know one moves up to size one needles after the ribbing, but still. There is a certain zen in the whole thing, though; I found that it wasn't nearly as painful to knit all that ribbing as I'd thought, and of course once the colorwork starts, it's tremendously compelling. I finish a row and I think, I wonder what the next row will look like? And before I know it, I've found another ball of yarn, and I'm off to the races.

Races here, by the way, is metaphorical. I am the tortoise, not the hare. I've been working on this for days, and I'm about 16 rows into the colorwork (out of 69). I should be able to get this done before March 6th, right?
There's my progress, with all of the little balls of yarn. (That ribbing gets doubled over at the end, by the way.) Because this kit was originally meant for a tam and a scarf, there will be extra yarn. I'm selfishly hoping that there might be enough for another tam, because I love this hat. I weighed all of the little balls before I started, and I'll weigh them when I'm done and then evaluate my options.

The chart is very clearly labelled; each yarn has a number associated with it, and there are little ends of yarn next to each code color. And each skein of yarn came with a little label attached; I wound the yarn so that the label would stay on the outside.
See how well-organized this whole kit is? I love it.

I have more knitting to show you, including the mitts I gave to Younger Daughter's teacher, and the incipient project that's sitting on my desk, taunting me (I will finish this hat before I do anything else), but this has already gotten long, so I'll save those for next time. I did want to say thank you again for all of the question suggestions that you've been posting; I'm making note of all of them, and starting to formulate the questionnaire in my head, and I truly can't wait to see the answers to these insightful questions. It will be a while yet before it's finalized and I've got all of my ducks in a row to send it out, so if you think of anything else, please do let me know, and if you know of anyone else who'd like to comment, send them along. In essence, the two questions for the moment are:
1. What would you like to be asked about being a knitter/knitting/the knitting community?
2. Why do you think writing about knitters is useful or important?
(If you want to refer to my original, and longer, asking of the questions, the post is here.)

Thank you all so much!

(one last close-up shot, just for fun)

*Linguistic diversion: I realized that I'm not entirely sure how to say "Bohus" - Ellen, maybe you could tell us? - so I headed to Wikipedia. People. There is no entry for Bohus knitting, or Bohus sweaters, or anything else like that anywhere in Wikipedia. When one enters "Bohus sweater" into the search field, one gets a return query: "Did you mean: bonus sweat?" Why no, no I didn't.

Someone needs to write an entry. Post haste. Any volunteers?

Award

First, though, if you haven't read and (if you feel like it) commented on my last post, please do -- I have so enjoyed all of the questions that everyone has suggested for the (eventual) questionnaire on knitting, and there's plenty of time to play along. (While I'm thinking of it, I want to say that I'm responding to everyone whose address or blog I have a link to, but there are a few folks whose Blogger accounts don't have links -- so I want to thank you all here for commenting with questions. I find all of the suggestions incredibly intriguing, and I'm getting more and more exciting about hearing the answers. More on that later.)

For now, though, I need to say thank you, most sincerely, to Bea and Sallee, who both nominated me for an award. I am usually terrible about responding to these kinds of awards, for all kinds of reasons: I can't imagine why anyone would put me on their list, to start; and then I find it nearly impossible to think of a limited number of other people to nominate, so even if I manage to bring myself up to the fence of saying something about it here on the blog, I stall out at the bit where I have to come up with people to forward it on to. But here I am, giving it a shot.


The official rules are as follows:

1. Copy the award to your site
2. Link to the person from whom you received the award
3. Nominate 7 other bloggers
4. Link to those on your blog
5. Leave a message on the blogs you nominated.

This award particularly means a lot coming from Bea and Sallee, whom I both consider to be tremendously creative people and bloggers. Bea knits, and sews, and dyes the most gorgeous yarn (go ahead and check out her etsy shop), and she takes amazing pictures (I only wish my pictures of my dogs came out half so well as hers do). And have y'all seen Sallee's Nana Sadie Rose bags? Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. And she's a jeans and birks and lace kind of person, which I relate to. So thanks so much!

Lucky for me, they already got nominated, as did Ellen and Jan, and Erica, so that frees up four automatic spaces. Heh. So here are seven more, among the many many talented bloggers out there whose blogs I love to read (you all know who you are!). If I've tagged you, don't feel in any way compelled to come up with seven of your own; I'll let you off the hook.

1. Anne at Knitspot. I think you all know how much I love her patterns, but I also love her photography, and the amazingly clear and cogent and compelling way that she writes about her design process. I have learned so much about how a piece of knitting gets put together from reading her posts.

2. Stella at Knit Knit Frog. Are there any fiber arts that Stella doesn't do, and do well? And she, too, writes about the process, which I find intriguing; her posts always make me want to run out and try something new. (I also love reading about her wonderful family, what can I say?) She's teaching a knitting seminar this semester, and is looking for input on inspirational designers; if you've got someone like that in mind, pop over and leave her a comment.

3. Anne at KnitRedSox. Anne gets the most astonishing amount of knitting done poolside (how do you do it?), and she's always got something on the needles for a charity or fundraising project, which I truly admire. Not to mention, she's teaching her students how to knit; recruiting for the cause is important. Her daughters are also amazing photographers, and you can't beat that.

4. Sheepish Annie. Anyone who can work with teenagers all day and then comes home each night and writes a post that makes me laugh out loud inherently possesses levels of creativity (and humor) far beyond my reach. She can also knit and ride a stationary bike and watch TV at the same time. That alone deserves an award.

5. Willow at Willow's Cottage. Her photographs are a constant inspiration, and not only because the subject is often one of my favorite parts of the California coastline.

6. Cattywampus. I don't know anyone else who can whip out a sweater like she can. And get this, they always fit. Beautifully. Seriously. It's unreal. And I love the photographic walking tours she does sometimes of her neighborhood; travelling without leaving home is one of my favorite things to do (right after travelling while also leaving home).

7. One Scheme of Happiness is an amazing photographer, and her travellogue-like photographic tours are amazing. She's taking her readers to India right now.

So there they are. Do we notice a couple of themes here? Process blogs and photographic blogs. Hmmm... There are so many other blogs out there that I love (check out that list in the sidebar), but I'll stop here.

Thanks again, Bea and Sallee; I really appreciate being on your lists.

What to ask?

I do have a knitting content post all planned out. I finished the mitts for Younger Daughter's teacher, and I started a project (wait'll you see this one -- craziness) for my mother's birthday, plus there are all those other things already OTN that I am poking away at. But for today, I have questions for you.

First, some background. I think I've mentioned that I've been contemplating for a while whether I should do something that I've been wanting to, and start a research project that involves this fiber world that I find so endlessly fascinating -- essentially, an ethnography of knitters. It's not just the fun of knitting itself that captures my attention, it's all of the people who knit and who are involved in that world and who write about that world. There's something there, I think, that deserves consideration and even theorization (there's the academic in me coming out) and to have its story told. When I've mentioned this here (and to people at, for example, my LYS) in the past, the response has been pretty enthusiastic, which I appreciate and find incredibly encouraging.

I should also say that the kind of research that I do in general consists of projects that are inherently collaborative, and that create something that (I hope!) is useful to the people I'm working with. I tend to think that's pretty important; there's something to be said for research that's grounded in the real world, and which responds to the needs of real people. I think that some of that is an inherent leaning I have toward what anthropologists call "participant-observation", that is, research which starts with the researcher immersing herself into the lives of the people she's working with, so she can start to understand what they do from their perspective.

Now, with knitting, to some degree I'm already hip-deep in participant-observation. And therein lies the danger. There's a serious temptation to think about what I find important about knitting, to answer the questions that I wish someone would ask me (Jocelyn, what do you find compelling about knitting? Well, Jocelyn, it all started for me...; I may have occasional split-personality moments, but that way lies madness), and to focus the story I tell that way. I often tell my students that while our personal experiences are not unimportant data, neither are they all the data; an N of 1 does not tell the whole story.

As I sat knitting and thinking yesterday, I asked myself how I could go about finding out what other knitters would want someone to ask them, and why they might think it's important to research and write about knitters and the knitting community. And then I thought, hey! I know a few people who knit. (Just to be clear, that would be all y'all.)

So, here it is. In the long run, what I'd like to do is to put together a questionnaire that people could respond to anonymously (I'd run it through another site so that this blog doesn't become Research Central); if anyone then was willing to let me interview them further (either in person or on the phone, depending on distance and circumstances), they could let me know that at the end of the questionnaire. But I need to figure out what questions are worth asking. I have some ideas, of course, but there's an inherent bias in relying solely on me for my input. And here's where I hope you'll come in. If you're willing to help me out, I have two questions for you:

Question the first: What do you really wish someone would ask you about knitters, knitting, and/or the knitting community? Remember, you don't have to answer that question right now; you can wait until your answer is wholly anonymous. What I'm asking here is what question(s) would give you a chance to talk about what you find most important/interesting/compelling about this fiber art we all engage in, and the world of people associated with it.

Question the second: If you happen to think that researching this community matters in some way (and you don't have to, by any means!), what is it in particular that you think matters? That is, why might it be important to document/talk about/explore the community of knitters? In yet other words, what purpose(s) could that documentation serve?

I, of course, have my own answers to these questions, and I'll share them with you after everyone else goes first (heh). You don't have to play along if you don't want to; we will return to our regularly-scheduled knitting content in the next post. But if you do, I'd so love to hear what you have to say. And if you think your readers/real-world friends/neighbors/colleagues might want to participate, too, please send them my way. If you've got questions to share with me that you don't want in the comments, you can always email me at jahlersATcsusmDOTedu. And if you want to create a completely anonymous identity to use in the posting of questions, please also feel free to do that.

And really -- thanks.