Two Short

This wee little swatch,


has turned into this.


I don't quite know how this happened. The baby took two very long naps. I blame him. I know I'm supposed to wait until April, but...... I'm the decider. I'm already about 4 inches into "Loppem" by Norah Gaughan. I made an executive decision to put the "Owls" sweater on hold. There's been enough brown knitting. I need some color. The yarn is Pear Tree merino 12ply bulky. It's divine, and I don't just go around using words like divine. I can't seem to put this project down. There's already been one mishap. I completely ignored the fact that the cables are mirrored. I'm not going to let this get me down. I'm enjoying every stitch. My project is so happy it decided to roll around in the cowslips.

The Vest of Shame

I have not been completely honest, and today that little lie has caught up with me. The Vest of Shame A.K.A. Skye Tweed Vest, was not knit for my father. It began as a vest for my ailing grandfather. I've been telling myself all of these years that I could just finish this vest, give it to someone else, and forget all about the real reason I didn't want to look at it.
I first began knitting this vest after my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer. My grandfather began to get smaller, and smaller. It suddenly seemed like the size I had chosen was going to be way too big. I was terrified that I wouldn't finish it in time, and so I started a hat. Every time I knit on the hat I cried. I couldn't do it. Somehow, it was an admission that he was really sick. It was a chemo cap. I didn't want to believe that he was going to be sick enough to lose his hair. So today, staring at that vest of shame lying in it's bath, I realized that this couldn't be pawned off on my unsuspecting father.




This vest is a vest of shame, because I'm ashamed that I didn't have the courage to finish it while my grandfather was still alive. I guess if I think about what my grandfather would say if he were here, he'd probably tell me that he knows that I love him, and that no amount of cabling, no matter how complicated, would ever be needed to convince him of that fact. He was a wonderful grandpa, and today I am missing him very much. This might explain the swatching. I needed something to cheer me up. Please don't judge me. It's only swatching, after all.

The Learning Cliff

I'm going to begin this post with a positive development, and finish with a cautionary tale. The positive development is this.





There is something a little creepy about finishing a project that's taken this long, and had so many problems. It's like waking up one day to find that the school bully is suddenly handing out cupcakes, and putting his/her arm around you. There's something off putting about the whole business. I keep waiting for the sweater to jump up from the table, and throw itself in the fire. I think I might only be mildly surprised if it did. Before it has a chance to do something evil, I'm going to weave in the ends, wash it, block it, and insure it for 1 million euros before sending it off to daddy dearest.
The cautionary tale is about a young woman who taught herself to spin. She thought, after a ludicrously short amount of time, that she knew enough about spinning to spin some yarn for a sweater. After all, it's making yarn, how hard could it be? She spun, and spun and spun. Then, after what felt like enough spinning, she started knitting. She knit a back, the left front, and she started knitting a belt. This is where she discovered that some of her yarn was of a different weight. She shrugged, and knitted on. There was a nagging feeling, but she ignored it. Then, she began the right front.



This is a sad tale. It doesn't end well for the girl, or for the sweater. Do you see how the left front is dwarfed by its looming, and still incomplete twin? This is why you should always listen to that inner voice. Always.
I've ripped out the musclebound right front, and am knitting a lighter weight version. I hope this story has a happy ending, one that doesn't involve me learning too many lessons, or gaining any more character. I really don't need any more character.

Off the Horse

This whole Monogamous March thing is sucking the knit out of me. I envisioned piles of FOs, and smug blog posts about success. My father's vest has struck a wicked blow. When I began knitting, I never swatched. This is not uncommon, but it is comparable to a new cook, not bothering to read the first two ingredients of every recipe. I won't always result in a disaster, but it will certainly result in a finished product that only vaguely resembles the picture in the book. I've just re knit the last third of the front of my father's vest, three times. Yup, three. That's a lot. It's a heartbreaking amount, but I had to make some alterations due to issues with gauge. If you are new to knitting, swatch. Don't ask, just do it.
All of this talk about swatching is just a lame attempt to justify what I am about to do. I have just swatched for a new sweater. Ahhhhh, that feels so good.



This is the "Owls" sweater that I was raving about earlier. My father bought me the yarn when he saw the yarn store owner's version. She had knit it while sick with a cold. It took her two days. I know, that's shocking. Now, I figure it's not really cheating, if it only takes me a couple of evenings. I'm still going to try and finish up a few of the UFOs before the official end of March, but I've learned a few things about myself.

1. I am not a project monogamous person.

2. I do not enjoy fixing mistakes made by a younger dumber me.

3. I love casting on.

4. I need to make more notes while I'm knitting.

5. My life and my knitting schedule are incompatible.

6. Spring is for gardening, not swearing at vests.

Full Cycle

The boxing kitty has been getting a lot of use.



It has been playing in the dirt.



It has been climbing.



And, at the end of a long day, it has taken a nap on the couch. Yes, I dress my son like a circus performer. No, I did not intend for his pacifier to match his long johns. A sweater that gets this much action needs a wash.


For those of you who aren't already in the know, wool sweaters can be washed very easily. Here's how to avoid a nasty felting incident. Fill up sink with hot, but not scalding, water. Add a small amount (dime sized) of no-rinse wool wash. Obviously, the amount of soap will vary according to the size and filthiness of the garment. Babies are extremely filthy. I use Eucalan wool wash, but there are other brands. Swish the soap around gently, and then VERY gently push the sweater into the soapy water. Agitation is the enemy. Any real agitation at this point, will cause felting. Let sit for ten min, or however long it takes you to remember that there's a sweater in the sink. Drain the sink, and VERY gently squeeze the water out. Do not wring the sweater. Wringing it will cause it to go all wonky. You can lay it on a towel and roll it up like a jelly roll to really get the water out.


When you've gotten a good bit of the water out, lay the sweater out to dry. I dry mine on a towel if the weather is bad. If the weather is good, the sweater ends up on a picnic table outside. You'll probably have to flip it a couple of times. While the sweater is wet, you can mould it like wet clay. Straighten out all of the ribbing, and press the cables into shape. If the sweater is big, you might want to try washing it in something other than a dinky little bathroom sink. For my husband's sweater, I used the shower basin. It ended up looking like Hans Solo frozen in carbon.



You know you're taking sweater washing too seriously, when you start making a high pitched sweater voice, that's begging you to let it out of the wash.

The Cold Truth

I've been meaning to blog, but a few things have gotten in the way. First, is a raging cold. Second, is a sick baby. He has the same cold. Third, is a sick husband, same cold. Fourth, is a sick brother, who's visiting, and managed to catch the cursed cold. Fifth, is the lack of will to live (which translates to a lack of desire to blog), on account of the cold.
Normally, I get pretty excited about having a cold. This is because, in my head, having a cold usually means hours of couch time with the knitting needles. Notice, I said "in my head". It never happens this way. When I start to get a cold, I panic, because there's, roughly, 5 bazillion things to do. So I spend the first hours of my cold running around, trying to batten down the house's hatches. Then, when the full fury of the cold hits, I am too tired to knit. All I can do is stare at my knitting, and moan about wanting to knit. I know, I'm painting a really pathetic picture. It's day 8, and tomorrow's my birthday, and darn it if I'm still sick with the cold. It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to. You know the rest.
At least I was able to get some knitting done. This time I fooled the cold. The first two days, I didn't get any knitting done. It was business as usual. I ran around, I tried to pretend that I wasn't sick, and then whammo, I was suddenly wondering if I shouldn't hang upside down to prevent myself from drowning in snot. By the fourth day, I had just enough strength to hold the needles. By day seven, I was making real progress on "The Vest of Shame". The secret to cold knitting is to contract the worlds longest, worst cold, and then wait until the forth or fifth day before picking up the knitting.
"The Vest of Shame" is rapidly taking shape. At first it took a rather stumpy shape, then after much ripping and cursing, it took a Frankenstein like shape. I was worried that my father might not be that long in the torso, so after much more ripping and cursing, we are looking at a father like shape. I have a deadline for this project, and that means it probably won't get blocked. I'm not wussing out, I'm just being realistic. I am not the kind of person who finishes her knitting several days before a deadline, so as to allow for blocking. My brother is leaving..on a jet plane...couldn't help myself there. I'll need to get this done, sewn, and wrapped before next Tuesday. That should happen. Jinx.
There was one really bright spot today. When I check the mail, I found this.



It's a teensy weensy sweater, stuffed with something that smells really good. This is the kind of thing that makes a weepy eyed, runny nosed knitter, get all weepy eyed and runny nosed. Thanks Debbie.

Monoga-Monster

I have hit a snag with my "March to the Finish" or "Monogamous March" commitment. I haven't fallen off the yarn bus, but I'm finding it difficult not to hit the driver over the head, and run off with all of the yarn. Here's my problem. March is a great month for a stash spring cleaning. March is a perfect month for finishing up those old UFOs before the summer knitting begins. March is also my birthday month. This is a good thing for me, but it's a bad thing for my UFOs. I just received a birthday gift. These beautiful yarns are like woolly sirens.



How am I supposed to stay faithful to "The Vest of Shame"? How can I possibly slog through two different second socks, with this around?



I am feeling like a beer lover who just decided to kick the habit the day before Octoberfest. I'm trying hard to focus on the task at hand, but I can't stop peeking at the new arrivals.





There's a comedy album by Chris Rock, in which he says that "Men are only as faithful as their options". While I don't believe that, I do believe that I might have a serious problem with project monogamy. I'm starting to dislike the "M" word. It's reminiscent of my days in Catholic school, and not in a good way. It makes me feel like I'm wearing an itchy kilt, listening to sister Virginia Marie go on and on about the virtues of being a "follower". Maybe, I'm a polygamous project knitter. Maybe, I'm not cut out for all of this pious knitting. I can't give up on my commitment, but I'm unable to focus on the task at hand while all of those beautiful yarns are parading around my dining room table. I can't stop thinking about the possibilities. I'm beginning to think that the most seductive things in life, are the things that could happen.
When all of this Catholic school style knitting is over, I'm going to put on my Roman toga and cast on for a ludicrous number of projects. It's going to be Ape S*&t April this year.

Pumkin Killer Sweater Man

I don't think I really need to post today.


I think these pictures are worth thousands and thousands of words.



This is what happens when you let the model get creative with the shoot.



I think he's brilliant.
After four tries, I got the collar right. Apparently, a collar that is too high causes certain people to want to barf. Who knew? A little bit of brown elastic thread really did the trick. He loves this sweater. I am still a little embarrassed, but he really loves it.

When Good Knits Go Bad

Today the urge to make oatmeal cookies seized me with a vengeance. Four dozen cookies later, I slunk over to the couch, oh wait you think I ate four dozen cookies. No, no, I baked four dozen cookies. I only ate about a dozen. So, I was lying on the couch staring at the wall, suffering from sugar induced zombie-ism, when I saw a UFO. I had placed this UFO on the middle of the coffee table, so that the first time my butt hit couch, I'd see it. My trap worked. Guilt is a strong antidote to sugar induced zombie-ism. This UFO is the dark heart of my UFOs. It has been haunting me for years, nagging me every time I cast on. It is "The Vest of Shame" a.k.a. "My Dad's Vest" a.k.a "Skye Tweed Vest" by Kathy Zimmerman.







The most annoying part of a UFO is the first hour of knitting. This is because I didn't keep notes pre-Ravelry, and I'm forced to "read" my knitting to figure out where I am in the pattern. That shouldn't be enough to deter an intrepid knitter such as myself. That's not the only reason I hate the first hour of knitting. The other reason is that, 9 times out of 10, there's a problem. 9 times out of 10, I made a booboo, and was so annoyed that I chucked the offending project into a sack. Here is where it gets stupid. I (almost) never check for a problem. I pick up the UFO, find the pattern, look through the instructions to find where to restart, knit for a half an hour, and then I find a problem. This happens every time. So what's the problem with "The Vest of Shame"?



Stitch count, check. Length, check. Shaping, check. Cables, crap. I think there's a problem. I was going to write a lovely post about tweed and oatmeal (see the warm fuzzy June Cleaver's kitchen photos), but two inches into knitting I started to feel really happy with the knitting. It was going along so smoothly. It felt like I might just finish this succubus. Whenever I get a feeling like that, I spread my knitting out to admire it. This was the point at which I realized that there is something not quite right with the cables. I squinted at it. I pulled a little. I almost called my husband over for a second opinion, but I didn't want a second opinion. I didn't want to face the music. I wanted to shove that mean, two faced, jerk of a project into the bottom of a sack, and forget about it. The problem is I can't forget it. My Dad's birthday is just around the corner. That mean hearted vest must be finished. It's "March to the Finish", and I've made a commitment. I may not be able to stop myself from shoving a dozen hot oatmeal cookies into my mouth, but I am woman enough to stay the course, and keep my commitment. I will finish this vest. I will celebrate my victory by shoving another dozen cookies in my mouth.



Oh, before I forget, the Spring issue of "The Twist Collective" is up. It's great. I like these socks, and this sweater, and this blanket, and this vest, and....maybe I'd better wait until April.

Verge

Today was a perfect day for knitting, and of course I did not have time for knitting. I did think about it quite a lot, but there was no actual knitting. I wasn't going to post, except that I had to share these little bright bits of spring. These are what's fueling my desire to finish those UFOs.





Now, I know there are a lot of knitters who yearn for a long cold winter full of fireside knitting and hot cocoa. I too love winter knitting, but I also love a lap full of smooth linen lace on a hot day. Beach knitting sounds like a dream right about now. Spring has sprung, and I'm ready for the soft cottons in pale green to peep out of my knitting basket.



There are a couple of patterns that are first on my list. I've got enough CEY classic silk, in an apple green, for the "Flutter Sleeve Cardigan".



Or I could cast on for the "Nadine Tunic" with a butter yellow linen yarn. There's also the promise of a new Twist Collective on the first of March. I know I'm getting ahead of myself here. I've got a lot of spring cleaning to do before I can cast on for anything, but it's always nice to have something to look forward to.


I'm really looking forward to the freedom of a clean slate.