Life's a Stitch

Last week we broke the record – 40 out of 42 days of rain. It was rain of biblical proportions. You know it’s bad when the newspaper is delivered double bagged and the joke going around has to do with the devil throwing aside Vancouverites because they’re are too wet to burn in hell. When the rain ended I saw a star in the sky – star light star bright, first star I saw this year! I guess there’s no need to build an ark after all.

I talked myself into picking up the first 440 of 872 ruffle stitches on C’est LaVie. It sounded so overwhelming, but it’s not been bad. On the third row you increase another 220 stitches and three rows later another 220. I was having so much fun I decided to go for a longer ruffle and another 220 stitches for a grand total of 1532 stitches.

It was going very smoothly, but we all know that life is not about smooth, right? So many stitches require the longest needle on earth, so I used my Denise interchangeable to make a circular the size of a jumprope. Good old Denise did it again; about 651 stitches into it, the needle came apart. That wasn’t enough of a blip in my knitting night.  A little while later I heard Gracee chewing on what I thought was her nylabone to find her gnawing on the needle. They’re both nylon, how was she to know? After a little sanding of tooth marks, and melting to straighten out the needle, the ruffle is looking great:

So, lets look in my knitting basket and see what’s not finished and why. I have my Master’s in counselling from way back when, I’m supposedly skilled at figuring out behaviour and motivation. And I can talk to myself in ways you could never talk in a counselling situation. There’s:

1. Marina – I love Marina, the colours I selected, the art of fair isle. What’s keeping me from progressing is the fact that I’m not happy with where the underarm steeks have fallen, making it more of a cropped look than I like. It’s not something that can be frogged back, the yarn acting like velcro, marrying and not wanting to be torn apart. Reality check: there’s nothing wrong with continuing, making it a little longer bodywise, and sewing up the armhole steeks to an acceptable place. For heaven’s sake, we’re talking armpits here.

2. C’est la Vie – both pieces are complete. The problem, mattress stitching them together and the prospect of picking up 884 black stitches for the ruffle. Reality check: you spent how much on Ott lites so that you can see your stitches? Pick up those stitches and ruffle on.

3. Sirdar Ultra Denim bulky sweater – Probably within three inches of finishing the last sleeve, then the dreaded sewing together part. Reality check: I’ve told you I’ve birthed three babies, two with no drugs, and now I’ve stayed awake for knee reconstruction, and I’m too chicken to finish a sweater that took all of a weekend to knit? Buck up, lady; feel the fear and do it anyway!

4. Devan – baby sweater made from sock yarn. The problem – I just don’t want to sew it together. And did I mention buttonholes? Reality check: this is a recurring theme. Want some cheese with that whine? Time to get out the I Hate to Finish Sweaters book.

What’s stopping you from attacking those UFO’s? 

A Shift

Lately,

Everywhere I walk,

I’m wrapped by webs.

I don’t see them

till they’ve wound

their silky way

about my face, neck and shoulders.

Before,

I would have recoiled,

flailing, terrified

of the weaver.

Now,

I luxuriate

in the delicate caress

and march forward,

strands trailing behind,

a sheer, weightless scarf.

I’m unsure

how to explain the change.

Have I come to appreciate

them

for what they are,

separate from my dread?

Do I find

their airiness

less alien

because I am lighter now

and float through days?

have I finally released

the unnecessary?

I can now

thank the weaver.

That was written by Carly Reid, our former summer intern at work.  Carly was diagnosed with scleroderma after her placement with us, the summer before last, and she died shortly before this Christmas at the age of 27. You can tell by the poem and the photo what a beautiful and talented person she was. We really miss her.

I’ve done some research into the shawl knitting ministry and I’ve found some Peruvian brushed alpaca to knit a shawl for her mom and a scarf for her sister. Carly spent some important time in South America and I thought it was an appropriate yarn. It’s a sad enough story as it is, but one of Carly’s sisters died a few years back in a car accident.

And today is the 35th anniversary of my Dad’s death. That’s a long time.

I saw a meme where people are listing five of their strange habits. This has provided a fair amount of discussion in my house. The ones I’m ready to admit to:

1. I love boxes and have a hard time throwing them out, especially shoe boxes. I was in box heaven when I worked at Lord and Taylor in New York in high school in the gift wrapping department.

2.I prefer food for breakfast that would normally be served at other meals. Forget cereal. Give me pizza or a cheeseburger.

3. I pat cute dogs on the head with my cursor.

4. I talk to animals in a way I’d expect them to sound if they spoke English.

5. I park in the same space every time I go to a mall or store. It’s usually an out of the way space, one nobody wants, but I always remember where my car is.

My son says to expect hits to my blog to go down to nothing after this post 😉 

Here’s a dog for you to pat and talk to. Try it, my lips are sealed:

I’ve started a Herringbone Ribster roster (say that three times fast) and gallery on my right sidebar. I’ve sent out a dozen patterns, so if you have one, please send me a photo when you’re done and I’ll post it. If you know of anyone who wants the pattern, please send them my way.

I’m hooked, or more appropriately in weaving speak, I’m warped. The weaving class was a success, from the shop owner’s point of view. I ordered a tabletop rigid heddle loom, two books and an extra reed. One hit was all it took to create a serious addiction, thanks to author/designer/teacher Rowena Hart. In a three hour time frame, we did everything worth doing – we shopped, we learned and we completed a good sized scarf. It’s colour and texture combined with speed and economy. Seriously, you can weave beautiful scarves with less than half the yarn and a third of the time of knitting. Don’t worry, I’m not selling out. It is a more limited medium than our beloved two sticks, but a woman can have two loves, can’t she? Here is the class in progress:

Rowena teaches on a "Knitter’s Loom," so called because of its portability which appeals to knitters. The maximum weavable width is 12". I went with a table loom with a maximum weaving width of 24". Here I am with Rowena and the rest of the graduates:

You know how when things are just not right with your life, they’re just not right with your knitting? And you know how what you are thinking gets tangled up with what you’re knitting? How each piece of knitting is affected by what you were feeling at the time?

Or how the knitting decisions you make are determined by the circumstances of life?

Something’s bothering me. So, in an attempt to control what’s uncontrollable in my life, I frogged something that has provided me with ongoing frustration. Now I have the opportunity for a do-over. Too bad you can’t do that with kids.

Listening to the radio Saturday morning cost me $50 plus taxes. I have a feeling that’s just the beginning. CBC, our public radio station, hosted a special knitting edition of their North by Northwest program, something I listen to most Saturday early mornings. They interviewed knitters ranging from 13 yr old ski racing boy to a woman in her 91st year. If you want, you can participate in CBC’s scarf exchange. I thought it would be fun for them to receive some non-Vancouver scarves. Scarves that have actually witnessed sunshine.

One of the guests was from Birkeland Brothers, a 70 yr old wool processing business located here in Vancouver. Ten years ago they got into the knitting side of the business and next week they are hosting a class by New  Zealand author, Rowena Heart on the Ashford knitter’s loom. The good thing is that you can bring along yarn from your stash and supposedly have a woven scarf in two hours flat. Why is the promise of a beautiful FO in two hours so seductive? 

I’ll show you why. To balance projects like this. I have finally figured out where I am on Marina. That’s the first step in renewing our interrupted relationship:

Here’s another reason. I’ve finished the two main pieces of C’est LaVie and the next step is picking up 884 stitches for the ruffle. Whoa.

I am so excited. There are four of you readers who are test knitting my Herringbone Rib pattern. Michelle, from New York, has sent me these photos. Isn’t it beautiful? It’s hard to believe it is the same colourway of Manos del Uruguay #113 as mine. Their colours are so unpredictable. So, what do you think:

It is so beautiful, Michele, thanks for knitting it. Can you believe this is the same colourway:

Other volunteer knitters in progress include Beth and Shanti (see her Jan. 17th post).

Today is election day in Canada, which has a pretty good system for election campaigns. Once a government has fallen, the next election is scheduled in a timely manner. This means campaigns for Prime Minister are only weeks in length. Thank goodness. I’m ready for it to be over.

I have a personal popularity contest happening with my knitting patterns. In every pattern with a pattern repeat I find I develop a favourite line. In Charlotte’s web it was the identical 3rd and 4th lines of the pattern repeat. I also develop a dreaded line. In the C’est La Vie wrap it’s the one with the K3T. What do I have against knitting three together? I find it a painful stitch, requiring my hand to use more force than it’s used to, my needles feeling like they’re bending to the point of snapping. K3T is why I gave up on the Branching Out Scarf on Knitty.

I’m more likely to knit just one more row when it’s my favourite line, and ready to stop at the dreaded line. Is this my own personal quirk? Am I the only one who develops a personal relationship with lines of patterns? Want to warn me about a pattern that drove you crazy with more hated lines than loved ones? Am I losing it? Is it the lack of sunshine?

Came home from work today, our 32nd day of rain in a row (I live in a land of microclimates, and although Vancouver hasn’t broken any rain records, I live against a mountain in a rain forest type climate) to have my day brightened with a Purling Puppy RAOK from Becca. We heartily LOL’d looking at the patterns for doggiewear. Watch out, Gracee. Thanks, Becca.

Speaking of lack of sun, my DD’s BF is trying to remember the title of a book he read while in grade school. I figure there are enough knitting librarians who follow this blog that maybe you can help me out. It was about a place where the sun shone infrequently, maybe once per year. A little boy was locked in a closet by other kids, missing his chance to see the sun. It’s possible that the word penny or pennies appeared in the title. Any suggestions?

I once had a garage sale and advertised that I was selling every piece of exercise equipment known to woman. There was a thigh master (my second since I wore the first one out), a recumbent exercise bike (the second exercise bike I’ve gotten rid of at a garage sale), a rowing machine, and a variety of other weak moments from infomercials. You wouldn’t know it by looking at me, but if it starts with "Ab" I’ve owned it. Think: Abflex, Abdominizer, Abtastic; all sold in pristine, gently used condition. The only thing I kept was my imitation stair master, which hasn’t been exercised since this knee thing started kicking up.

So, why, after getting rid of two in my life, is this hated item in my bedroom?The answer: doctor’s orders. Pay no attention to the ancient "how to get a sexy tummy using your exercise ball" articles taped to the wall, I don’t know why they’re there, they’ve never been used. I first tried to borrow a bike from someone at work, but one person who thought she had one buried in her basement, discovered her husband had already taken it to the dump. That’s how much this item is missed when not in use. Another one left hers out in the carport as a free offering to anyone who would haul it off. I’m not the only one who has these feelings towards exercise bikes.

My son listed my "desire" on freecycle (no pun intended), and the only reply was from a person who offered to be my walking partner as an alternative to the dreaded cycle. The dear boy, obviously a product of his mother’s genes, searched the sale ads and found me this baby for $99. An offer I couldn’t refuse. We’ll see about that. Most people want a book rack hooked up to their bike, I have to figure out a way to maintain my speed while knitting.

Here is my progress on C’est La Vie. I discovered some tension issues along the way. I’ve been working on it while at physical therapy and I think I adjust my tension according to what I’m feeling at the time. I was able to frog back and fix the most obvious problem, but have elected to tighten up the other two rows after the fact by tightening up the yarn and cutting it, but first I’ll wait to see if it resolves itself in blocking. The drape on this wrap is wonderful.