star crossed cap

Yesterday I made a hat for my sister. The pattern is the Star-Crossed Slouchy Beret, although it turned out more like a sculptural, cabled cloche because of the texture of the yarn.


The yarn is a gorgeous soft, grey cormo from Elsa Wool, which I picked up at the Taos Wool Festival earlier this fall. It's the yummiest, bounciest, cushiest wool I've ever knit with. I had one skein of woolen-spun sportweight yarn, which I knit doubled on size 10.5 needles.


As I said, the pattern is meant to make a slouchy beret, but because this yarn is so elastic, the fabric really pulled inwards, and it came out more like a mushroom shape. When worn, it hugs the face and then curves out to add a little volume to the crown of the head. Personally, I think it's an amazing piece, and I think my sister looks fantastically stylish in it.


However, I did promise to knit her a hat of her choosing, so I'm just going to have to knit her another version now!

greenleaf baby set

In the midst of dealing with complicated projects, it's a pleasure to have something short and sweet grow from my needles.


This is a baby hat and mitten set for my cousin, composed of the lovely Greenleaf Hat and Xois Toddler Mittens in Swift superwash merino yarn. It was one of those perfect little projects that came together quickly and turned out just as I'd wanted.


My sister made the very cool cord for the mittens by twisting (actually, plying) together several strands of the yarn. It's more elegant than braiding or I-cord, and I love the marled look of the two greens.

subtle beauty

I'm back east now, back to Connecticut for Thanksgiving, back to the nest of my family and my childhood home. I flew on Monday to avoid the freneticism of holiday travel. It was a peaceful trip, with books on tape and the comfort of knitting and soft, subtle light over clouds.


What a shock to the system, though, to arrive to the drabness of New England November! I've gotten so used to the technicolor of Arizona that it takes a while for my eyes to recalibrate to this flat palette: cold pale light, steely skies, skeletal trees, in a chilly late autumn rain


Dim, drizzly, drippy, dreary. All the descriptive words that come to mind start with a thud and taper off in a gray shiver.

And yet, once my eyes adjust, it's a pleasure to see the subtle beauty in it. The faintest of pink in a twilight cloud. The sculptural forms of the trees. The muted dignity of a hydrangea flower, holding on until frost.


Not to mention, it makes for blissful knitting, with a cup of steaming tea and my mother's fat gray cat by my side.

Rivendell among the rocks

Mountain Man I drove out to "Looner Land" this past Sunday for a stunningly beautiful day of rock climbing. It's an an amazing place, with clusters of rock pinnacles rising out of the desert floor. Here's me, rappelling off of our last climb in the late afternoon sun.


I thought such an unworldly landscape would be the perfect place to photograph my newest project: a Rivendell hat in a heavenly-soft alpaca. I also thought that it would be much chillier (like it was last weekend), but as you can see it was sunburn weather, not alpaca hat weather. Not that I'm complaining, though!


Knitting this hat was like visiting an old friend. Rivendell was the first pattern that I ever published. It came out in Magknits in May 2007, and when Magknits was abruptly taken down, the pattern went with it. I still have the pattern text, but no charts or diagrams or pretty formatting, and anyways the pattern needed some tweaking with gauge and sizing, since the original version was far too small and tight.

It's taken me a couple of years, but I've finally gotten myself around to re-knitting the hat and rewriting the pattern. This was a play on it to see how it would look with a different brim and a softer texture. I'm also working on a version that has the original flared seed-stitch brim, but I'm having some gauge issues. Hopefully it won't take me another two years :)

autumn colors

I got a precious dose of autumn this weekend on another visit to Lower Devil's Canyon. The seasonal changes in the desert proper are subtle, too subtle for a newcomer like me to appreciate. But the creek running through the canyon was another story.


Ok, it's still subtle by my Vermont standards, but out here it's nothing to sniff at! I practically jumped for joy when I crossed the creek and found a tangle of fiery Virginia Creeper on the rocks ...


And as my fellow climbers hiked up to the rock towers, I held back, skulking around the riparian zone, gazing at the Sycamore trees and wild grape leaves.


Back at home, I had another kind of autumnal color waiting for me in my dyeing pot. I've been hankering to get back to dyeing -- spurred by the Taos dye workshop and the recent snap of cooler evenings -- and I finally got out my dye pots over the weekend.


Left to right: pecan hulls, apricot leaves, persimmon leaves, peach leaves, and eucalyptus. The peach leaves are from a neighbor, but the pecan, apricot, persimmon, and eucalyptus are from trees in our own yard.

I've done a fair bit of experimenting the eucalyptus around here, trying a few different types of leaves and barks and trying different methods from long simmering to fermentation. I always have ended up with yellows. This time I just tried an unimpressive, scraggly eucalyptus shrub from our yard, and I was amazed to see the shocking orange it produced.

distractions

My design process for the sweater has been following what you might call an "emergent design" method. I dove in headlong, ripping out what didn't work, and letting the design emerge from what I learned along the way. Sometimes that works, sometimes it doesn't. Lately it's the latter, so I've been driven to distraction ...

I've been playing with my spinning wheel

And experimenting with dyes from my backyard

And casting on for a new Rivendell hat

All of which has been reinvigorating but has not solved my problems with the sweater. I've knit the shoulders five ways already and found each to be unsatisfying. Maybe tonight I'll bit the bullet and go for lucky number six

Spinning Witch

My friends and I did Halloween up in style this year. You have to understand -- our front door is set at the end of a covered patio, hidden from the street by a forest of banana trees. To get to it, you have to walk up our dark driveway and through a small opening in the banana trees.

To make it even creepier, we decorated with handmade bats, witches, ghosts, spiders, and graves. Taper candles flickered in the windows. Mozart's Requiem drifted into the cool night air. I sat by the door, shrouded by my long hair and witch hat, spinning dark fibers.


Would you be spooked by such a sight?

When one girl, full of bravado, marched up and asked what I was spinning, my friend cackled to her "We're making sweaters out of children! ha ha ha ha...." The girl whipped around and ran away as quick as her legs could carry her! Apparently, word traveled through the grapevine that we were the scariest house on the block.

I've also been celebrating the season by reading Casting Spells, which is a Barbara Bretton romance novel about a sorceress who owns a knitting store in Vermont. Witches, knitting, and Vermont? Perfect.

Lower Devils East

Yesterday was a phenomenal autumn day in Arizona. We left Phoenix in the morning, driving east past the old mining town of Superior and into the hills on rugged dirt roads. It was opening weekend for an amazing new climbing area on the east side of Lower Devil's Canyon.


We climbed a series of beautiful 5.9s and 5.10s, all on the cool, shady north sides of the rock towers. Coming out on the top, you have these amazing views of Lower Devil's Canyon.


The day flew by, and when we reached the top of the last climb, I suddenly realized that the sun was so low on the horizon that most of the canyon was already in shadow. I cried out to Mountain Man, "But I haven't taken my knitting pictures yet!!!"

In record time, we rappelled to the bottom, I bound off the button band I'd been working on, and we literally ran uphill to catch the last golden-rose rays of sun.


This is the latest progress on my cardigan, now re-knit without the colorwork leaves. I've finished the yoke, body, and front buttonband. Still left to do are the sleeves, the other buttonband, and the embroidered leaves. I'm hoping to have enough yarn to get elbow-length sleeves, although I must say that I'm kind of taken with it as a vest!


I loved how the colors of the Seacolors yarn blended in harmoniously with the green/gray/yellows of the jojoba bushes and the warm browns of the canyon rocks. It was the perfect place to be with this project.


On another note, I had one more fiber-related adventure to share with you -- a visit to the Southwest Fiber Festival -- but I'm afraid I forgot my camera. It was a sweet little festival, with spirited music, splendid animals, and lovely yarns and fibers. I hadn't planned to buy anything, but somehow my bag managed to fill itself with a skein of chocolate alpaca yarn, a ball of dark churro roving, and a batt of Corriedale/Targhee/Merino fiber ....

leafy cardigan decisions

It's Friday, end of the day, and I'm taking a few minutes to contemplate my weekend knitting. I've been working on a new project that, I'm afraid, needs some major re-working.

It started last weekend with a monstrously long swatch, trying everything from garter, stockinette, seed stitch, one- and two-color ribbing, three kinds of cables, colorwork ....


Of all of these, my favorite was the bit of leafy colorwork. I love how the variation in the green/ochre skein comes through.


I'd decided to try making an asymmetrical cardigan, with a square neck and a line of those leaves running vertically by the button band. It's top down so that I can stop anytime the yarn runs out. And I can decide as I go whether I want to spend yarn on sleeves or turn it into a longer vest.


The problem? After designing a whole garment around that bit of colorwork, I don't like how it's coming out! I don't like the textural change, and I'm afraid that my tension isn't so even. Now I'm considering whether to rip it out, knit it in brown, and just embroider the leaves on afterwards (like in my Contemplation Pouches).

Anyways, here's Isis wishing you a happy weekend!


She got so excited when I went out into the backyard to take photos that she threw herself on the ground, rolled on her back, and whined for a belly rub.

Cloud Scarf

I've been paying more attention to clouds, sparked by an interview I heard with someone from the Cloud Appreciation Society. I especially love all the wispy high altitude clouds.


Last weekend, kind of on a lark, I decided to try to knit myself a scarf that captured some of their lightness and linearity. I had the perfect yarn in my stash: one ball of white and silvery Kidsilk Night, originally bought for my wedding shawl until I changed my dress choice.

I got out my needles and yarn and started to swatch:


The idea was to knit it lengthwise with floaty ruffles of lace, achieved by knitting a bit of stockinette, changing to a couple inches of lace, then picking up stitches just below the lace, and knitting another layer. Kind of a cool construction, I thought. I decided to use a simple biased lace, with two layers leaning in one direction and one layer leaning in the opposite direction.


It looked all fabulous and floaty on the needles, with the layers curling up prettily. Then I blocked it. And now it's absurdly long, with three flat layers that stick together. *Sigh* I could've done something so much better with this precious little ball of yarn.

It's still somewhat wearable, as a little accessory to wrap again and again 'round my neck.


And I guess it's still kind of floaty when you get up a good breeze ....


But it's not the wispy, etheral cloud that I'd envisioned. I guess there are times when blocking does not do a fabric any favors!

Taos Wool Festival

This Saturday, I woke up to a brilliant autumnal morning. Vivid blue skies. Strong, clear sunlight. I was staying with an artist friend in Taos, and after a cup of coffee brewed with lavender from her garden, we went for a walk with her trio of Shih Tzus.


The golden shrubs that you see on the side of the road are Chamisa, which is in the rabbitbrush family, and which we used in our natural dye workshop for a robust yellow. They were at the height of their bloom, as were the lovely purple asters. It made me think of how much I used to love this time in Vermont, when it was goldenrod that would light up the roadsides alongside asters.


The next stop in my morning itinerary was a visit with Frana at the Phi Beta Paca alpaca farm to see the newest cria, who was just a few days old, and as delicate and fine a creature as you could imagine. Her legs were still a little wobbly, but she had the loveliest, creamy curls and blue eyes.


Here's the baby alpaca hiding underneath her mama. She's still trying to figure out nursing a little bit.


And then it was on to the Wool Festival!! I made it in time for the midday meetup in the Ravelry tent. It was awesome. I had a yummy cupcake baked by deltafine. I got to chat with the warm and gracious Stefanie Japel and Ravelry's own Mary-Heather. I listened to Knitswithdogz singing along to Indigo Girls songs, and watched PinkPorcupine spin, and learned all about TARDIS-Tara's Dr. Who scarves, and met RedQueen of the Here's to Ewe podcast.

I was a little too shy to take pictures of people at the Ravelry tent, but here's what the festival looks like in general:


It's in Kit Carson park, with these perky white tents set up around the perimeter. Off to one side they have shearing demonstrations and a few different kinds of fiber animals to see and pet. This one (churro?) sheep was especially sociable


And who could resist a pair of baby angora goats? Very snuggly and friendly, and they even seemed to like being petted, since they'd come over if you put your hand in the enclosure.


I spent several hours there on Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning, slowly meandering through the vendors' tents, coming back to the Ravelry tent to hang out for a while, and then heading out for another lap around the festival. And here's what I brought home:

From my natural dyeing class with La Lana, I brought home six skeins of a wool/tussah silk blend (we also dyed straight wool, but I don't have much need for that here in Arizona) and some samples of dyed fibers.


Apparently, it was the rusty, autumnal colors that were speaking to me. I bought 3 skeins of handspun kota-dyed yarn from La Lana, a few ounces of solar-dyed mohair locks from Kai Ranch, and a skein of mohair/wool yarn.


And I also gravitated towards natural colors as well: super soft Cormo yarn in white and gray from Elsa Cormo and laceweight colorgrown organic cotton from Skaska.


All in all, it was a very full weekend! I met so many wonderful people from Ravelry (sorry I couldn't mention you all!), so maybe next year I won't have to go on my own :)

natural dyeing workshop

I'm sitting in a little cafe in Taos, mind reeling after an incredible, intensive, two-day natural dyeing workshop. The class was taught in the La Lana Wools dye studio by Luisa Gelenter and Maryalice Garrigan. These women are amazing alchemists, and I feel so damn lucky to have had these days soaking up their knowledge and spirit.

The Dye Studio

Simmering pot of snakeweed dye

Spoons and sample cards, hung on the wall

Indigo greens and blues

This workshop focused on local and native dye plants -- chamisa, snakeweed, mullein, indian paintbrush, kota, marigold, peach leaves, walnut -- although we did sneak in a little indigo for overdyeing. For me, as a transplant to the Southwest, learning about these dye plants is part of what gives me a sense of place.

And it was tremendously eye-opening for me to get a sense of what a production dye studio looks like and how resource intensive it really is! So, although this class re-ignited my passion for diving into natural dyeing again, it also made me feel like I should just keep it on a personal hobby level. It's interesting for me to watch how those feelings are shifting.

I can't say enough good things about how much I learned and how much joy I took out of this workshop. But do you know what the best thing was about it? Having two days with such a fantastic and inspiring group of women, from different ages and places, but all drawn together by a love of fiber and color.

Sprout!

I lovingly knit the last stitch on my baby blanket, and I'm positively beaming to share it with you ....


I designed this blanket in an embossed leaf pattern. It's definitely a challenging pattern, since the stitch count changes over the course of each sprout, but the extra fabric that's made for each leaf gives it a gorgeous, rich, three-dimensional texture.


It uses 3 skeins of Spud & Chloe 'Sweater,' which is a lovely machine-washable blend of organic cotton and superwash wool, in the color 'Grass.' I think the color is more of a celery green than a grass green, but in any case, it's cheery and bright and gender neutral. And it has such a lusciously soft hand!


The seeds of this blanket, so to speak, were planted several years ago, when I made a friend a baby blanket with this leaf motif in one of the early organic cotton yarns (see it here). For years, I've had it in mind to improve on the pattern and find a machine-washable yarn for it. When I found out that another friend was having her first baby, and I learned about the new Spud & Chloe yarn line, it was the perfect time to revisit the pattern.


I chose the increases and decreases with special care, so that the back of the blanket would be as beautiful and symmetrical as the front. I just love this blanket.


It's already packed up and in the mail to my friend. I am so excited for her! And I found the perfect handmade card to go with it -- a darling letterpress card from sweetbeets.

The pattern is all written up and available for sale on Ravelry. If you'd like to buy it, you can either click here to purchase and download it from Ravelry, or you can send me an email at evergreenknits@gmail.com.

And as always, to thank you my readers I'll be giving away five copies of the pattern in a little comments contest. To enter, just leave me a comment! I'll draw names this Friday, October 3.