best souvenir ever

Nova Scotia. Land of exquisite harbors, tall ships, dramatic tides, glacial lakes. And Fleece Artist yarn.

I would never go so far as to say that this yarn was the best part of our honeymoon. But it's a gorgeous and tactile reminder of the blue skies and blue oceans that graced our trip. I bought a hank of merino sock yarn, and a kit with small hanks of blue-faced leicester DK and mohair. The kit is intended to be used for thick socks or mittens, but I'm going to see if I can eke a light hat out of the wool and an airy scarf out of the mohair. I picked by color - yum!

And you know you've found a good man when, facing the last half hour of vacation before you have to drive back to the airport, he tells you that he's found a good yarn store for you, rather than saying "no, the town ends up there, let's turn back and watch the tugboats."

The Wedding Shawl

Pattern: Print o'the wave lace, in my own rendition. I cast on nine full repeats of the lace pattern (borrowed from Eunny's stole) flanked by a half repeat on either end. Knit straight until casting off. Knitted cast on, russian joins, russian cast off.

Yarn: Misti Alpaca Laceweight, natural color, just over 2 balls (with only 2, it'd be only a few inches shorter)

Needles: Inox express circs, size 3

Size: 15x54 (unblocked), 20x70 (blocked), 19x64 (relaxed)

The weather was so mild that I hardly needed to wear this, but it was a delight to knit and makes such a splendid keepsake. Lovely and light when wrapped around my shoulders. And one of the reasons that I wanted a stole rather than a triangular shawl, aside from prefering the aesthetics, is that it doubles as a soft and snuggly scarf.

I could not be happier with this lace!

Ivory Tower

flora: foxgloves


fauna: dog belly against grass


food: 'blanca' currants after rain


fiber: print o' the wave lace, blocking


The shawl is finally finished, and it's heavenly. Will put up full photos and pattern notes in the next week or so.

swish and stress

I am blogging rarely this summer because I feel my seams coming undone, strained by life transitions, bad news, and graduate school. In the midst of this, though, I am sustained by beautiful moments. Here's one.

Last week I received a Knitpicks order with several skeins of 'Swish', their new superwash wool. Deep blues and greens for a baby blanket for one of Mountain Man's friends and rich, chocolate brown for a baby sweater for one of my friends (another placket sweater, this time with rustic wooden buttons). Here's my quick yarn review, since I haven't seen many out there yet: respectably soft, lovely colors, and blessedly machine washable and dryable, at an excellent price. I've been searching for a yarn like this for quite some time.

Anyways, I swatched and cast on for the sweater that evening. I pulled it out again a few days later while in the throes of paper-writing. Everytime I wanted to throw a tantrum about the paper, I knit a few rows to take my mind off it. To give you a sense of how frustrated I was, I finished the entire lower body of the sweater (one ball) this way! No paper yet, but the knitting feels like legitimate progress. And it sits quite peacefully among the watermelon vines.

Knit-fitting

Several disparate themes that have been floating in my mind came together today. I've been thinking about possessions quite a bit lately, how we thoughtlessly accumulate them, refuse to part with them, identify with them. On a completely different tack, after finishing the baby sweater last week, I'd been thinking about why I compulsively knit hats and scarves but shy away from knitted garments.

These ideas came together when I pulled out my honeymoon cami this morning. I finished it last summer, using up some pale peach-pink Berroco cotton that had languished in my stash for years. I've only worn it twice because everything is just a wee bit off - the border bulges when worn with jeans, the drape is too heavy, the knitting looks uneven, the decreases (which I carefully fit to myself) don't actually fit my body. But I fiercely refuse to give it away, because I feel so much of myself has been put into it. Does anyone else have trouble parting with your handknit pieces, even if they never make it out of the closet?! Why such attachment?

It also sheds light on why I have trouble knitting anything except hats and scarves -- I'm picky about fit and not very skilled with fitting. Are there recommendations out there for garments with 'automatic' fit? Wrapped sweaters, perhaps? Full body ribbing?!

Anyways, when I decided to wear the cami today, and take pictures to have a visual accompanying these thoughts, I was confronted with a third theme that has been quietly lurking: how to look more photogenic. Compare the two photos, please. Suddenly I have curves! And that blasted heaviness to the fabric has disappeared. Note to self, and anyone else about to face a platoon of photographers, and anyone else dealing with too-drapey knit camisoles: toss back those shoulders!

Froggie happiness

I received a refreshing comment on the last post that told me to stop complaining. In this new spirit of trying to be more self-congratulatory, I present my first FO of the season. Now, most mothers coo over their newborns, extolling their perfection. I do not have a new baby, but I do have a new baby sweater, and I am pleased as punch to show it off and talk about its loveliness.

Little Frog Baby Sweater

Pattern: Child's Placket Sweater, from Last Minute Knitted Gifts
Yarn: Knitpicks Crayon, color "green" (2 balls, I think)
Needles: 5, bamboo circulars and dps
Modifcations: Plenty, for such a tiny piece. My gauge, even on size 5s, was so wide that I used the stitch counts from the smallest size and the sleeve and body lengths from the next size up. I did garter stitch on the borders instead of seed stitch. I cast on a much smaller number of stitches for the sleeve border, to avoid belling. And I made mini buttonholes (k1,p1,yo,p2tog,k1) on the placket, so that I could use these darling frog buttons.

Incredibly, this is the first sweater that I have managed to complete; four half-finished ones, some as old as a decade (!), languish in my yarn box, casting me reproachful looks everytime I start something new. This sweater isn't perfect, but the fact that it's a genuine finished article makes it FEEL perfect. And that may be the real lesson for me. Now if only I could apply that same logic to my graduate work!

85% match

I had my first wedding gown fitting yesterday; naturally, I toted along my lace shawl to see if it matched. This has been my first opportunity - a mere five weeks before the wedding! - to actually see the two fabrics together.

My sister's response was a cool "it's fine." Our main reservation is that, as suspected from the get-go, I should've gone with a stronger geometric pattern. A clapotis might have been just right, but the silk-wool yarn I'd ordered for it had a too-strong silk smell (I know that Knitty recently had a great article on de-gumming silk yarn, but it seemed like too much work at the time). Alternatively, a geometric lace pattern might've been better, like the arrowhead lace I first swatched.

But the color is pretty good, and the horizontal lines pick up on the grosgrain fabric, and the lace will look more impressive after blocking. So although I can't say that I'm overwhelmed by the fit and tearing up with joy, I think it turned out reasonably well. And I'm inspired to finish it now!!

Finishing

My life theme of late has been “unfinished business.” Wedding planning = overwhelming and unfinished. Academic work = pathetically unfinished. My garden = half-planted and gobbled by Japanese beetles, so unfinished that I may have to resort to Miracle Grow to get it looking lush by next month. There are those that would cheerfully call these things “works in progress.” But I’ve always been a glass-is-half-empty kind of gal.

All of this is a long way of saying that NO, I haven’t finished the wedding shawl. It wasn’t for lack of inspiration. To the contrary, lace symbolism was everywhere: my henna-painted hands, stone carvings, the wedding garlands.



But it was far too hot and chaotic to knit! And anyways, there was plum too much going on to be bothered with lace knitting. I tried a bit in the car (evidence below), since we had 10+ hour drives to Dharamsala and back, but most of the time it was too bumpy and I just wanted to observe the amazing landscape and people-scape that we were passing by.

I’m persevering now that I’m back in Vermont. I probably only have another five or six inches of knitting to go, which I can probably finish within a few weeks. Wish me luck! It's the homestretch now.

Challenge 2: 80 Inches in Around the World

Team ‘ever green’ has been hard at work, pushing through grueling training in preparation for an extreme knitting adventure.

Stage 1: Learning to outpace threats in a controlled environment
Lace and I each had our roles to play. For my part, I was in charge of mastering and memorizing the lace pattern (to avoid it falling into the wrong hands). Also, I was responsible for protecting lace from dastardly, dangerous foes.

Enemy #1: “Lightning Claws”
This devious feline has a reputation for chomping[link] on knitting needles, ripping yarn to shreds, and creating tangles[link] beyond repair. Nocturnal. Surreptitious. Pointy teeth and sharp claws. She would like nothing more than to eat tender alpaca yarn for breakfast.




Enemy #2: “Muddy Paws”
She tracks dirt and vegetative matter about like it’s her job. Easily overexcited, rather ungraceful. Would think nothing of knocking lace to the floor, shaking mud onto its pale ivoryness, and tromping across its delicate fibers.




As for the lace, its role was to defend itself against competitors, elbowing its way past the other projects that vied for my attention: baby sweater, summer camisole, jaywalkers.

Stage 2: Testing our survival abilities in the wild
Two weeks ago, Lace and I had our first mini-adventure: a camping trip. We gained essential travel skills, including sweet-talking our way past airport security guards, avoiding sticky-fingered children, and squeezing knitting into the most unlikely of moments. The camping itself was fraught with peril: campfires, sunscreen, woodsmoke, stove-soot, pine sap, poison oak, and, perhaps most frightening, tequila. Straight from the bottle. Some may consider this camping trip to be, by itself, “extreme knitting.” We at team ‘ever green’ considered it to be rigorous training for the real adventure.


Stage 3: Passage to India
Today we depart for a voyage to India, where I will be attending a close friend’s wedding and then meeting Mountain Man’s extended family. You’ve all heard of ‘Around the World in 80 Day.’ It has nothing on the challenge that I call ‘80 Inches in Around the World.’ Our objective is to finish knitting the entire length of the shawl, all 80 inches, over the course of this trip. There will obstacles thrown in our path, including the exhaustion of travel, saffron- and turmeric-laced sauces, mayhem and chaos. I fear that knitting may suddenly seem unappealing in the sticky heat of the monsoon. And we must be wary, lest the allure of Indian silk distract my attention and shift my textile affection.

This story is not yet written. But it will surely be extreme: risky and challenging, adventurous and exotic.

Green Pastures

I am strongly drawn to all things green. Green leaves. Green tea. Green politics. Green yarn. Which brings me to two new and delicious projects started in the last week, both on circular needles (which I love). First up: a summery camisole in Cascade Fixation, color "fern." Here's a slice of it at the end of the first ball:

To be honest, I'm souring on this one a bit. The yarn was broken and knotted in three places in this one ball, which I find terribly annoying. But the bigger problem is that it's hard to figure out gauge in such an elastic yarn. I swatched and calculated much more carefully than usual, but I was far too conservative (not something I'm usually accused of) in terms of estimating how much stretch to allow. It fits, but it'd fit better with 30 fewer stitches. Sigh. Think I'll have to start over.

My second project is going more smoothly: a baby sweater in Knitpicks Crayon, color "green." Color is brighter and more saturated than I'd have ideally wanted, but the yarn is incredibly silky for cotton. And it's nice to have a project where I don't have to worry about sizing and fit.

Yay for light summer knitting!

Camping Adventure with Lace

I had a bit of a whirlwind trip to the west coast last weekend - first a wedding in Phoenix, then off to California for a few days camping in Los Padres National Forest, near Santa Barbara. Naturally, the lace knitting came with. Here she is, hanging out on a little Ponderosa Pine, enjoying the view from our campsite:

Lace had quite an adventure. Mountain Man thought it quite imprudent to bring such a delicate and light-colored project, when I have plenty others to choose from. She did come back smelling like campfire smoke, trailing bits of vegetative matter, and looking a wee bit dirtier thanks to my woodsy fingers. But I felt like I needed to make some lace progress, and there's nothing like a long plane ride and mellow camp days for steady knitting.

The woman in the campsite across from ours was also knitting. But she looked so concentrated and was knitting with such incredible speed that I didn't feel like disturbing her. I would love to be a speed demon like that - makes me think I need to learn continental.

The Amazing Lace Begins

A portrait of a woman and her lace companion: hopeful, playful, campy

Woman: I can't begin to tell you how excited I am to join the Amazing Lace. My shawl and I have already been on this journey for a few months, so we begin as a strong team. We have brave, heady optimism for a strong finish.

Lace: I have to be honest, I'm nervous about this one. She's already detailed here how she has had difficulties finishing lace in the past. She doesn't come to this adventure with a strong record.

Woman: One of the beauties of starting this with a few months' experience is that we know each others' quirks and strengths. And we share great respect and fondness.

Lace: She's a knitting dilettante, that's her quirk. She claims to love me and totes me along everywhere as her companion. But she claims that she always needs a side project to keep her interest in me.

Woman: I'd love to share the story of how we came together. I was looking for a shawl back in March to knit for my wedding this summer. I had numerous false starts with other lace patterns. The stitch pattern is from Eunny's print o'the wave shawl, but this is a much simpler construction: six repeats of the main pattern, knit knit knit from start to finish, no edgings, no grafting. Very fluid, clean lines, and marvelously textured. And isn't she beautiful?


Lace: It's true. I'm beautiful. Seen here lounging on the marjoram plant.

Woman: We have our challenges. But we've come so far, and I'm bound and determined to make it to the finish! Here's the lace's official "start" photograph:

Thinking

Last weekend was beautiful - soft, steady rain, mist in the valleys, lush, cool spring air, and jaunty wild columbines blooming at the edge of the forest.

The sad truth, though, was that I spent nearly every waking minute chained to my desk, writing a very difficult paper indeed. My wedding shawl was tucked away on a side table, where I cast it wistful glances. Taking a legitimate break to knit would've felt wrong, but every so often I'd pick it up to fondle and admire. And then it hit me: at the current length, it makes a perfect little costume cape!

So here I am, striking a pose in my 'thinking cape", hoping that this cape would grant me superhuman intellectual prowess. In fact, I think it did nothing but enable more procrastination, but I thought I'd show it since I have little actual knitting progress to share (just a bit on the second jaywalker and a few more inches on the lace here, but nothing worth trying to show).

Only one week left of finals period - and fifty pages of papers to go - and then hopefully I'll get some real knitting done. I mean, where are my priorities?!

Finals. Period.

The lilacs are blooming, the birds are singing.

But don't be fooled - this is a harrowing time of year for a graduate student. I have about 60 pages of papers due next week, and 20 due the following week, so there's no time for flowers and songbirds. And no time for knitting.

I did start the second sock last week. But this is as far as I got before I was gripped by panic and had to turn back to my work.

And the same dreadful feeling is coming over me now. But if you, dear reader, have a few minutes on your hands, I highly recommend checking out this hilarious political parody about Bush and climate change

Acorn Pancakes!

Please let me know if you try out this acorn pancake recipe. Hundreds of people have visited this page since I first posted my recipe, but I've never heard from any of them. I'd love to know what you do for your own acorn pancakes!

Recipe for a perfect Sunday morning: Start with a bowl of softened acorns - removed from their hulls, and boiled until they're leached of tannins.


Most recipes call for roasting the acorns and grinding them into flour, but we simply took the softened acorns and ground them into a moist meal with fingers. (It was much less laborious and, I think, made for a nice pancake.)


Acorn Pancake Recipe:
2 1/4 cups white flour
3/4 cup acorn meal
3 1/2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp salt
3 tbsp sugar
1/2 cup dried cranberries
2 beaten eggs
1 tbsp melted butter
1 1/4 cup milk
1/3 cup applesauce
3/4 tsp vanilla

We mixed these ingredients to combine and then cooked them on a griddle until they were nice and browned on both sides.


The pancakes were incredibly flavorful, earthy, and delicious served with maple syrup. This was just made up on the fly. You may need to add more or less flour or milk depending on how moist your acorns are. It's enough for 3-4 hungry people.

And to complete the morning? I finished my first Jaywalker sock.

Foraging for acorns

When I was a kid, my sister and I were really into wild foods and foraging. We nibbled on dandelion greens, cattail tubers, staghorn sumac berries, wild wintergreen, etc. But we always had trouble with acorns. We'd collect tons of them, laboriously pry them out of their shells, and simmer them for hours upon hours to leach out the tannins. The problem was that we'd eventually forget about the pot on the stove, and all of our work would be charred.

This past weekend I was walking in the forest and realized that in the spring, the plump acorns on the ground were beginning to burst their shells (no squirrels in that part of the woods). I filled up my hat with acorns and easily shelled them on the remainder of our walk. Back at Mountain Man's home, I set to simmering them.

Here is the part that may interest you fiber fiends. The acorns simmered for probably twelve hours total, through nine changes of water. And every time the water came out a different shade, from milky, light brown to clear, steely grey. Seen below in order of boiling - first on the left, last on the right. What's going on here? Do different chemicals leach out at different times?



I was so terribly tempted to try dying some yarn in each cup, but possessed neither the time nor the ability (sometime I'll post about my last failed dying experiment, with foraged cochinealle bugs in Peru!).

Foodwise, the acorns were definitely less bitter, almost palatable even, after all that boiling. I plan on smashing them up and making pancakes with them.

Turned the heel

I turned the heel on my jaywalker sock this weekend. I'm really enjoying the pattern and the yarn, although I'm a bit concerned about its lack of elasticity. The fabric is pretty stiff, which makes it a bit hard to pull the sock on (over my heel, that is). Anyone else had that problem with the Jaywalker pattern or Trekking XXL yarn? Here's a snapshot - knitting in the car on the way down from Mountain Man's house this afternoon.


And what's that in the bottom of the photo? Let's zoom in...



It's Leila! Awww, what a cute little nose.

The allure of sock knitting

My happy side project is... a pair of jaywalkers!

In Trekking XXL color 109, for my sister. I've never been drawn to knitting socks before, but I'm starting to understand the appeal. They're relatively quick to knit, incredibly functional, rich with color, and super portable! Oh wait, scratch the last point. I know everyone raves about what a portable project they are, but just take a look at the ol' ball and chain.

The colors of this yarn are making me smile though. Simple pattern, but I'm always looking forward to what colors roll off the ball next.

Look how you've grown!

The print o' the wave shawl grew heartily this weekend. Here she is:


I think this will block out to about 20 inches, which makes it about a third finished. I'm tremendously pleased by the progress, and I like the shapes and textures more as the shawl grows. But I'll admit that I've started to reach saturation point. I need another project to break up the monotony.

I remember hearing that eating is most pleaurable if you alternate bites of the different foods on your plate. It keeps your taste buds sharp, brings out the contrasts in flavor and texture, helps you really appreciate the food. Knitting, for me, follows the same concept. Too much of one project dulls my appreciation and interest. So as happy as I am with this shawl, look for a new side project in the next few days!

Progress, and a new animal

I've decided to stay the course, for the moment. I'm making good progress on the lace shawl, and I've realized that, until I try the dress on again in July, any new shawl would be beleaguered by the same uncertainty. Here's the current state of the lace:

Note: the animal pictured above is Mountain Man's dog (husky-yellow lab mix, for scale). She was laying in the one remaining patch of morning sun and was kind enough to move out of the way a bit so that I could photograph my lace.