Day 85: Knitting does still happen around here

I am, after all, a knitting linguist, and I do still knit.  There is a shawl to show at some point, but I haven't had a chance to block it (maybe this weekend?).  Meanwhile, I have been poking away at a really fun pair of socks that I started at a long weekend of board meetings last spring, and then put away while getting through the College Blanket Saga (TM).  Once that was done, they came back into rotation as an easy and small project, perfect for the car and meetings.  And then they came swiftly off the needles.

Aren't they fun?  They're Must Stash Yarn in the colorway Ready Player One.  Totally aside from the fact that I love that book, every single one of the colors of these stripes makes me happy.  This yarn comes in two identical skeins, so that the stripes end up matching (and how awesome is that?).  My one and only regret about them is that I hadn't gotten the contrasting yarn when I cast on - I just wish I had knit the top ribbing in that, as well as the heels and toes.  (Not enough to cut the ribbing off and reknit it, though - I'd hate to toss that extra bit of stripey goodness!)

There's a happy story about that contrasting yarn.  I cast on for these, as I mentioned, at a three-day set of meetings this past spring.  These meetings are really intense, and they involve a LOT of sitting still.  So I knew I needed something totally mindless to knit, but also cheerful and fun.  This yarn was the answer to my prayers.  I also knew that I didn't want any shaping to disrupt the stripes, and that I'd need a contrasting color for the heels and toes.  There was no time to get anything before leaving home, so I counted on finding a yarn store somewhere near the meetings.  During the first day, a colleague recommended a little shop in Arlington, near where we were having dinner that night.  So off I popped, in my free hour between meetings and dinner, to check it out.  The shop was FibreSpace, which I cannot recommend more highly.  Not only is it a fantastic little shop with friendly folks and a great fiber selection, but check this out.  I had found a skein of something very yummy, and very expensive (especially given that it was technically just for the toes and heels - I was telling myself that I'd get another pair of socks out of it), when I went up to the counter to get an opinion on the color.  The nice young man behind the counter says to me, are you just getting this for heels and toes?  Yep, I say.  And he points to a little basket on the floor behind me and says, "That's what the Miss Babs mini-skeins are made for!"  And that is exactly what I ended up doing.  He could've failed to tell me that, and I would've spent the money.  But he didn't, and he saved me quite a lot, and I am telling you that I'm definitely going back when I'm out there for the next board meeting, and I want to recommend them to you, too.

I knit these top down, as a tube, and put in a strand of waste yarn where I wanted the heel to be.  Then I basically knit a toe as the afterthought heel. I was so enchanted by the stripes that I ended up knitting a very shallow toe, but they fit nicely.  I wore them all day yesterday, both in and out of shoes, and they're cozy and comfortable.  Now I need to get another skein of this yarn, because Rick wants a pair, too.

More related knitting to show tomorrow!

That time of year

That time of year came around again and kicked me in the rear end, as it always does.  November is, I think, probably my most crazy month of the year, in no small part because my big academic conference always falls the week before Thanksgiving, so I spend the last two weeks of October putting my paper together for the panel discussant, then early November putting together my presentation and my report for the executive board of my conference section, and then mid-November getting to and from the conference (and surviving it), followed immediately by Thanksgiving (17 people to cook for this year, whew!).  In order to get everything done, I am either working my way through the list of things that need to happen for me to make it to today, or, when I get a spare moment, I can decide whether I'm going to spend it with my family, or sleeping, or on the internet.  Guess which two I tend to choose?  Thus, blog silence.

The sad thing is, I find myself writing posts in my head, while I'm doing things like driving through the Mojave at dawn on my way to Tehachapi (that is something that only happens at very specific times of the year - this time, it was the day before the time change, when the sun was still coming up late enough for me to leave the house at 5:30 and get into the desert - an hour and a half away - before the sun could come up over the horizon).  That may become a post someday, actually.  Or while working my way through the heel of one of the pairs of socks I finished; that, too, should be a post.  But as I said, during this month, it's either do things or write about them, and the doing had to come first.

Speaking of doing, I have been doing knitting.

Done.

And done.

(Since these were knitted toe-up, I used a reverse heel-flap, with an eye-of-partridge stitch; I like the way those turn out.)

And done.

 

Almost done.

(I know; it would have been better if I could have said: Done.  But the stitches are picked up for the second sleeve, so I'm on the home stretch.)

Quick information about these.  That first pair of socks (as you no doubt know by this time) is my second pair of Silk Road Socks, my own pattern, which I hope to write up sooner rather than later, now that I have finished knitting them again.  The sole of the second one is different than the first, but I think that it will be clearer to knit (I hope).  It means that I can't submit these to the county fair next year (which I'd thought of doing), since they don't match, but I can live with that (because I'm not going to knit a fifth one of these).  They are knitted out of Spud and Chloe Fine, a wool/silk blend with a lovely sheen.

The second pair of socks is also my own pattern, knitted out of Zen Yarn Garden Serenity 20, which I love.  I have worn them once, and you may be able to see from the shot of the heel that this yarn definitely shows abrasion, but that's to be expected of a yarn that is a blend of merino/cashmere/nylon (70/20/10).  I can live with that.  It gives the squishy luxurious feeling that I wanted for these socks, of which I'd like to do a series.  This pair is called Long John Socks I, and I'm hoping to get this pattern written up, too (which may happen faster than the other; this is easier to put together).  The basic idea for this is a series of socks all knit toe-up in a squishy stitch pattern, to maximize a skein of luscious yarn.  I've already gotten another skein of the Serenity 20 to start thinking about the next one (at my LYS's Black Friday sale today; the only Black Friday shopping I can imagine doing - and that was crazy enough!).

The hat is a pattern from the latest KnitScene (the Lucy Hat), knitted out of Malabrigo Arroyo, which is another yarn I love.  I did make one modification to this pattern, which you can't see in the picture above - I'll try to get another one for my next post; I picked up stitches on the inside of the hat from the purl bumps left by the color change, and knitted a lining layer so that this would be warmer than it would have been (especially since I was using a finer yarn than that called for in the pattern).  I don't have my needle size and yarn colors up on Ravelry yet, but I do know that I used the needle size called for in the pattern.  I really love this hat, and wore it a ton in San Francisco (where I was for my conference; more on that in another post).

Other things from this month?

Walking on the beach: done.

Spotting starfish: done.

Admiring a hermit crab's home: done.

Spending time with my family: done.

More later, now that I've made it through my crazy month, but for now let me just say happy Thanksgiving to all of you - I hope that your day was as good as mine, a day of plenty, both in food (fine enough), and the company of those you love (the best).

Another f-word - fog!

Thank you all for the many interesting and thoughtful comments on my last post.  I truly enjoyed reading each one of them, and I wrote back to everyone for whom I have an email address (I think one of the best bits about writing a blog is the follow-up conversations).  (And Polly - thanks for sending your students this way; if any of them want to comment, they should please feel free, and/or they are welcome to send me an email.  I wonder if it mightn't be a thought to have our classes have a virtual conversation sometime?  I'd love to know more about your class!)

But in the meantime, today I finally got a bit of another of my favorite f-words - fog.  I really, really love fog, and I have been lamenting the total lack thereof around here.  While the East Coast was getting slammed with Sandy (I hope everyone back there has come through the storm with a minimum of damage, and that you and your loved ones are all safe), we got Santa Anas.  Not nearly so frightening (unless they come with fires, but this time we got lucky), but it does mean wild temperature swings and very very dry air, all of which makes me cranky.  (There's just something weird about going to swim at 6:15, when it's 48 degrees - outdoor pool, btw - and then, by noon, it's 78+ degrees, and the air conditioning is blasting in the building.  Dudes, how do you even dress for that?)(OK, I know the answer - layers.)

But this morning when I woke up, the world was blanketed in fog.  Tilly and I went for our weekly walk at our local open space, about which I've written before, and today it was a new and mysterious world.

I had already determined to try to add another leg onto my usual walk, and I found myself utterly disoriented in the fog.  This little open space is usually dominated visually by what everyone calls "the mountain" (not a mountain) - an old volcanic core that sits in the middle of a network of trails like the one in that picture.  And I couldn't see it at all - it was invisible in the fog.  I wandered along my path, utterly sure that I knew exactly where I was, until I came out in a place that didn't seem familiar at all.  It took me a long moment to realize that I was back where I'd started, heading for the creek crossing from the other direction - everything looked weirdly familiar and utterly strange at the same time.  There's a metaphor in there somewhere, I'm sure.

It's funny how the fog, by blocking those eye-catching long views, calls attention to the immediate and intimate.  Bird-song and laughter were all there to hear, even when the noise-makers were invisible.  I could smell the rotting tules - the water levels are low, and it's that time of year.  Would I notice that, if I could see the ocean in the distance?

And there were beautifully skeletal plants, reminding me that it's Samhain - time to step back and notice that the world is turning again, heading for the dark time, when things rest quietly, when decay makes room for new growth in the spring.

This always feels to me like it should a quiet, contemplative moment in the year's cycle - odd, as it comes right as everyone seems to be gearing up for holiday madness (already!), and I find myself wanting to sit, just quietly, rather like Ferdinand in his field, contemplating the cyclic nature of change.  Somehow this time of the year, my motto goes from being "You can't win for trying", to "Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose."  (I should note that, in this mood, I tend not to mean it in its wry sense, but instead in the sense that, underneath all the hubbub and busyness and surface changes that catch our eyes from day to day, there is a deeper, longer stillness and coming-around-again that I find comforting.)

I'm knitting some things that feel like foggy weather does to me, too, appropriately enough.  I've finished the body of the Wine Dark Sea II sweater (I'm wearing the old, baggy, comfy one today).

I'm worried that it might be too short, so I'm blocking it, to find out for sure.  If it is, I'm going to rip it back and add a few inches.  I really want to get this one exactly right.  I am, though, very happy with the neckline shaping - I never seem to get v-necks right, but this one fits just the way I wanted it to.

The edging has turned out well, too!

And I'm working on a new pair of socks.  (As a quick update, I turned the heel on the Silk Road socks, only to find out that I'd made an assumption - and you know what they say about assumptions - that was wrong.  So some ripping back is in order.  More on that next time.)

These are, I think, going to be part of a series of socks that I'm calling in my head Longjohns Socks.  Basically, what I wanted from these is a pair of socks that feel like pulling on longjohns - warm and comfy and comforting.  They're knitted from the toe up, so as not to waste an inch of this yarn (Zen Yarn Garden cashmere sock), with my happy bottom-of-the-foot eye-of-partridge heel flap, and, for this pair, a double moss stitch leg.  I've found a couple of other stitch patterns that I think would suit themselves to this kind of sock, so I'll probably knit another few pairs in the series, with some of the "luxury" skeins of sock yarn that I've stashed away for "special".  I might even write these up and put them on Ravelry - do you think this is the sort of thing more people than I would like?

I should mention that this mid-week post came courtesy of a weekend working in Northern California (language revitalization trainings) last weekend, and another trip to Tehachapi this coming weekend.  I tend not to have much energy for posting when I travel that much, so I thought I'd better grab the chance while I could.  So I probably won't post again until mid-next week at the soonest.  In the meantime, I wish you all a contemplative Samhain.

Achievements

OK.  It's been a while.  I kept meaning to post, but, if I am going to be completely honest, it was so nice to truly take some time away from my computer that I couldn't bring myself to sit down at it for anything more than the bare minimum work requirements (OK, that was in July; before that, I was spending so much time at my computer wrapping up several HUGE projects that I couldn't bear to be at the computer to do anything else).  Instead, I spent the month of July and early August as much outdoors as I could be, and loved every minute of it. 

I think I also have been having trouble conceptualizing a blog post that isn't just a recap of all of those lovely grade-school "What I Did With My Summer" essays.*  So instead, I think I'll just hit some of the high points - the things that felt like a challenge, or like something I've wanted to do for a while, or an achievement for someone in the family, and then throw a few additional fun photos in over the next several weeks (because I just downloaded all the pictures off the camera, and there are a LOT).  (Note added later: I realized that there is no sane way to get everything into one post, especially if I want to include some fiber content - and I do! - so I'll just have to do the second half of the summer in the next one.)

First, Younger Daughter "graduated" from her grade school.  This is a bigger deal than it might seem, since she's been going there, first to day care, then preschool, then grade school, since she was about 18 months old.  Next Monday, she starts at her brand-new middle school, and it's going to be a huge change for her.  She's ready, but it was nice to have a moment to celebrate the change.

(Her face is in shadow, but it is the only picture I have that doesn't also include OPK.)(Other Peoples' Kids.)

Very soon thereafter, we packed up and headed to Mammoth for a solid week of getting outside and getting some family time.  During that week, we took our first overnight backpacking trip as a family.  Just one night, but the big goal (from my perspective) was for the girls to want to do it again.  I knew that Rick's trail choice was dead-on when Older Daughter, pack and all, turned to me most of the way through our hike in to say with excitement, "I feel so self-sufficient!" 

We schlepped in about five miles to a string of lakes, where we set up camp.  The views were remarkable (note: not photoshopped in any way).

As were the insects (can you see that golden, sun-lit cloud in between the trees there?  yes, that's right - mosquitoes).

The next morning, we abandoned our big packs for a while, and headed up further into the mountains, following a string of lakes,

(which looked remarkably like parts of the Scottish highlands - check it out, doesn't this look like heather, even?),

to the last of the snow, where Tilly had her own achievement - stepping on the cold frozen stuff for the first time.

She wasn't quite sure what she thought of it.

Two days later, the girls and I went on a half-day horseback riding excursion (not a trivial matter for our non-saddle-trained selves, especially as we climbed - and therefore descended - 2,000 vertical feet during the ride, which requires a lot of work for a rider, if you're planning to help the horse at all).  The top was a reminder that Mammoth is, indeed, an old volcano (dormant only).

But you climb that high up, and you get rewarded by the views.

I also knitted on that trip.  My knitting mojo just isn't what I'd like it to be these days - I'm not sure why I'm feeling jammed up, so, as you'll see in the next post, I'm pulling out some old projects that I think are taking up space in my guilt-ridden back brain, and trying to move those forward.  In Mammoth, however, I started and finished two new things.

That little lovely was a test knit for Anne, who did a stunning photo shoot that puts my efforts to shame; you may want to check it out (the pattern has also been released).

The pattern is Twig and Leaf, and it comes in three sizes - this is the smallest.  It is knitted out of the (new to me) Briar Rose Stella, which is an absolute treat to work with; it's hard to go wrong with a laceweight merino/silk blend in one of Chris' stunning colorways (it even looks like she has one more skein left in this color).  This particular version is destined to go to the Briar Rose booth as a sample, so you can visit it, but I will be casting on to knit my own veryvery soon - it's fun to knit, and utterly wearable.  The only question I have is whether to knit this size, or make the medium.  So many hard choices...
I also finished up a pair of socks for myself while we were there, which I haven't had a chance to wear since coming back, as it's been hot and humid here (le sigh).

These are Clandestine Socks, and they were really great fun to knit.  This is a good travel knitting pattern because, apart from the lace edging, they're quite easy, but fun enough to keep one's attention.  I need to find the yarn label (sorry), but this is a merino/alpaca blend, if I remember correctly, by a local dyer; I picked this yarn up at a local festival about a year ago.

So, that's it for now.  There's more (believe me!), but I think I'll stop here and go work on some spinning I have on the wheel. 


*My brother once got very creative and told his teacher that he'd been to Greenland on his summer vacation.  He even had it straight that Greenland is the colder, less-populated one (as opposed to Iceland).  He apparently had lots of detail for verisimilitude - heaven knows where he got it, probably National Geographic - but the teacher did eventually check with my mom, who was rather surprised to find out where we'd gone that year...  I did not go to Greenland this summer, and I will not tell you that I did.

Fiber keeps happening

I have been plugging away at various things here, and actually have something to show for it.   I have been spinning the BFL which I'm planning to ply with my already-spun Polwarth, and I am here to tell you two things.  First, it takes a LOT longer (for me) to spin four ounces worsted than it does to spin four ounces woollen.  A lot.  Second, the worsted-spun fiber takes up MUCH less space.  My four ounces of Polwarth (spun woollen) take up the better part of two bobbins.  I'm two-thirds or so of the way through the four ounces of BFL (spun worsted), and I think it's all going to fit on one bobbin with room to spare.  The wraps per inch look about the same, so it's got to be a function of the amount of air in worsted spun yarn.  I'll be sure to have pictures next time.

While that's been going on, I also pulled out the first of my one-ounce fiber sampler, deciding to start with the Lincoln.  I got out my trusty Pipy to do the spinning.

Lincoln is an incredibly long-staple fiber.  The staple length on this particular sample was somewhere upwards of eight inches.  And it has almost no crimp.  It feels more like holding hair than wool, in many ways; but this particular preparation was clearly wool - it had a lovely lanolin smell, not too strong, that hung about the fiber as it was spun, and my hands afterward.  For the first time, I understood why Clara Parkes describes that scent as "spicy" - it is, in a warm, cooking spices sort of way.

Because Lincoln is a prototypical longwool, and because the preparation of this sample was such a lovely combed top, I spun it worsted.  It came out fuzzier than I'd expected, given the fiber and the preparation and the spinning.  The BFL I'm spinning has less fuzz - weird, no?

I then made both a two-ply and a three-ply yarn out of the singles.

 That's the three-ply on the left, and the two-ply on the right.  The three-ply was (as one might expect) a much rounder yarn; interestingly, it seemed to me that it bloomed more nicely than the two-ply.  I'm not sure why that would be.  It also seemed to me to be more lustrous than the two-ply (luster being another hallmark of the longwools).  I do know that if I were to spin a project out of Lincoln, I would absolutely spin a three-ply.  In fact, I'm rather thinking that I'd love to source some dyed Lincoln to spin a colorwork bag out of.  I imagine that a bag like that would be absolutely stunning, and would wear like steel.  All in all, a successful first sampling session.

I have also been working away at the latest pair of Rick socks, in time for him to go out of town next week.

These are the Blunnie socks from one of last year's Rockin' Sock Club kits.  As soon as I saw them, I knew they were going to be for Rick, as he has a pair of blunnies that he loves.

These fit like a glove.  I really aimed for a tight fit this time (and they are knitted on size 0 needles), to see if that improves the wear of his socks (mainly by preventing the semi-felting of the soles of his socks, which tends to happen after a while).  We'll see.

So that's one project off the needles.  In the meantime, I've cast on for Vitamin D (a cardi), and am plugging away at the yoke.  With luck, I'll have something to show on that next time, plus I might (maybe) have finished the BFL and be ready to ply!

Happy new year!

A bit late, I know, but I mean it all the same.  It's 2012, and I hope for each and every one of us a good year, full of the things we love most, including fiber of course, but also in my world, family and friends and long walks with my dog, and time spent on the beach, and good books, and delicious meals shared in good company. 

I got a lot of that over the holiday break, in fact - I feel very lucky to have ended what in other ways has been a tough year in such a wonderful way.  Rick's brother and sister-in-law and our niece came to spend nine days with us, and I loved every one of them.  It was hard to see them go.  I've got pictures to share another day, in fact - we did a lot (including running my first 5k, thanks to my SIL's inspiration - I still think that she slowed down for me, but I stuck to her heels, and made it over the finish line in the end; can you tell I'm feeling proud?).

Meanwhile, until I have all of that organized, I thought I'd share the last few knitting projects from the old year, just to wipe the slate clean, as it were.  I didn't aim to do any holiday knitting, but I did finish one last baby surprise jacket plus booties for a friend's baby-to-be, and managed to give it to her at my LYS' holiday party - thank goodness, because her baby came a few weeks early!  I don't have any pictures of the sweater and booties, alas, but I'm hoping that perhaps I can get a picture of them in situ, on the baby herself.

I also started and finished a sweater for Younger Daughter in the weeks just before Christmas.  I saw two projects in IK Winter 2011 that I knew immediately were meant for my girls.  The first was the Fabled Cardigan, which I wanted to knit for Younger Daughter.  I promptly cast on after picking the yarn up at my LYS (I used Cascade EcoWool), and this knit up fast.  I will never be a fan of chunky yarns and big needles (but wait 'til you hear what I'm working on now!), but I admit that this one is right for what it is.

Of course, I couldn't leave well enough alone, so I didn't put the garter stitch edging on the bottom hem, letting the cables do the finishing for me (the picture below is truest to color).

And I added cables at the bottoms of the sleeves, as well.

I figured that this was in keeping with the front sweater skirt, which has cables right along the edge.

And I found the perfect buttons in Grandmom's button box.

All in all, I'm very happy with the way this turned out, and if it would just get cold around here, maybe I'd see more of it on her!

I have also cast on for Older Daughter's project, of which I have no pictures as yet.  I am knitting for her the Leif Slipover from IK Winter 2011, in Cascade Lana Grande (which I have an overwhelming urge to call Lana Grossa; perhaps this says something about how I feel about knitting on yarn this big), on size 15 needles, which are, frankly, not so much needles as boar spears.

I also knitted a little sweater for myself.  I saw it (and the yarn) at my LYS during the holiday party there, and knew that I really had to have it for Christmas eve this year.  I finished it at 3:30 on Christmas eve, an hour before people started to arrive for the annual herring fest aquavite binge Christmas eve party.  Whew.

It's just meant to be a little light cardi to add some color and warmth, and that's exactly what it did.  I'm ashamed to admit that I can't remember the pattern right offhand, but the yarn is Baah! La Jolla, hand-dyed (beautifully, I might add) by my friend Mira. 

I think this one is going to get a lot of use, actually, even though I hadn't been actively desirous of a sweater like this. It'll be perfect in the classroom, for example - the sleeves are short enough to stay out of my way, and it adds just enough warmth to be nice, without making me all crazy and overheated when I get excited about, say, morphophonological variation.  Heh.

I also finished up the socks I started for Cat Bordhi's class.

I'm much happier with the way I finished up the cable in the second sock (on the left); I need to decide whether it's worth ripping the first one back to fix, or whether I'll just let it go.  They fit very nicely - I love this heel quite a lot, and this kind of short-rowing worked beautifully for the toe, as well; my first short-row toe.

I'm particularly happy with the spiraling cable.  It's hard to get a picture of the back of one's leg, but:

There are more pictures on my Rav page.  The yarn I used for this was Dye Dreams Luster Sox, and it was a very interesting experience.  It's a lovely 3-ply yarn, made of Blue-Faced Leicester (BFL), which is perfect for socks in so many ways.  However, I found that it handled very differently from the way I expect yarn to handle - it seemed to be picking up twist as I knitted.  I finally checked and found, interestingly, that the yarn had been spun counter-clockwise and plied clockwise, which is opposite to the usual spinning and plying pattern for knitting yarns.  I had heard and read many times that it is better for knitting yarn to be spun clockwise and plied counterclockwise, but this is the first time that I've worked with a yarn that hasn't been.  It definitely makes a difference in the manageability of the yarn.  I have some left over, so I want to take some time to play with it a little bit to see if I can really see what's going on when I throw the yarn to knit, and why that seems to be adding clockwise twist (which in turn causes the yarn to behave as if it were overplied).  Very interesting.

Last, but not least, I finished the Not Stockinette socks that I cast on over Thanksgiving to alleviate my stockinette slump.  These are the Isabella D'Este socks from the amazing Clara Parkes' The Knitter's Book of Socks (I love every single one of her books, and would like to be her when I grow up).

I love everything about these socks.  They fit like a glove, and the pattern makes me very happy.  It's hard to go wrong with a picot edge, little lace motifs, and a gusset decrease that manages the movement of the lace pattern on the foot.  So elegant and finished.

I couldn't get pictures that really do these justice - I'll work on it.  But that one is pretty close to the true color.  These are knitted out of Jitterbug, which is perfect for socks - a springy, round 3-ply in a barely variegated solid that doesn't hide all the pretty patterning going on here.

I am very pleased with the way these turned out, and I'm betting I'll wear them a lot.

I do have some knitting plans for the new year, but I will wait on those until I've taken some more pictures to go with them.  I did, however, do some playing around on Ravelry this evening, and it seems fitting to end this with a recap of this year's projects:

30 projects started and finished in 2011, including:
7 pairs of socks
6 shawls
9 hats
3 baby sweaters and booties
4 sweaters (two for me, one for my mom, one for Younger Daughter)
1 pair of mitts

Not too bad, all things considered.

Happy New Year!