Combating Winter

When I finished the Sad Winter Socks, I had a deep desire to knit something cheerful.

So I did.

Nine to Five Socks knit in Knitpicks' Felici in Mixed Berries colorway

There is no sun, so please pardon the photos.

The stitch pattern works well with self-striping yarn, and the ribbing down the leg helps to keep the socks from falling down.

I've actually had these done for awhile, but as soon as they were finished they went on my feet. Then they hung around and waited to be washed and blocked. The only reason I'm not wearing them today is that I'm wearing another pair of Felici socks. I'm confident these will be in heavy rotation.

Take that, Winter.

When Lost, Knit a Washcloth

I've read over and over the folly of teaching someone to knit by having them knit a scarf. Yes, a scarf can be very easy. Yes, a rectangle is much less intimidating than a sock. Yes, you can see progress.

Yes, you will feel like you will never finish and that you will be knitting and knitting and knitting until you die and they'll have to pry the needles out of your cold, dead hands and even then someone will say, "For seventy-five years, I never saw Aunt Gerty without this. How is it possible it's only three feet long?"

That's what really happens when the first thing you knit is a scarf.

My mom taught me to knit, and she taught me with a washcloth. I wish I had a picture of that first washcloth.* It has holes in inappropriate places. It gets bigger, then stays the same for awhile, and never ever decreases. When I showed it to my mother while it was still on the needles, she paused for a minute and then said, "Let's bind off and start again."

I still use that washcloth. I love it, and it washes dishes perfectly well.

Sometimes when I'm between projects or when I feel like something on which I'm working requires too much thought, I knit a washcloth. I did a couple last week.

There are a million different variations, but this pattern is the one I use:

Using worsted-weight cotton yarn and size 8 needles, cast on 4.
Knit one row.
Knit 2, yo, knit to end of row.
Repeat last row until you have 36-42 stitches.
Begin decreases as follows: Knit one, k2tog, yo, k2tog, knit to end of row. Repeat until you have 5 stitches.
Knit 1, k2tog, k2.
Knit 1 row. Bind off all stitches

You can use bulky yarn (I use Lion Brand Homespun a lot--it can be machine washed and dried) and big needles (size 15) and make a baby blanket with this pattern as well. In my family, that's known as the Washcloth Blanket. We're creative that way.

*Actually, it's not really the first one. Mom tried to teach me to knit when I was a kid. Twice. It didn't work. She tried again when I was 28, and it clicked.

Happy Valentine's Day

Andrew and I don't celebrate Valentine's Day. It's not that we're against the idea of showing affection toward those we love. We ARE against messages that portray men as hapless fools who don't know how to buy a present for their significant others. February 14 has no special meaning for us. There are other days in the year that do, and we celebrate on those days.

So, Happy Valentine's Day if you celebrate it, and please do your best to ignore the messages that bombard us saying that we need a heart-shaped necklace for the day to be a success. We don't. 

Also, remember that chocolate will be on clearance tomorrow.  THAT is worth celebrating.

Under the Exciting News category, last night I swatched for the Talamh sweater. My gauge was spot on. Getting gauge is a lot easier when I actually use the yarn for which the pattern calls, which rarely happens.

Talamh sweater knit in Blue Moon Fiber Arts BFL Sport 

in The New Look of Love colorway

BFL Sport doesn't actually come in that color, but when I inquired about it, they said they'd dye it for me. It makes me love Blue Moon just a little bit more, which I thought was impossible.

Oh!  I suppose that's not a very Valentine's-y photo.

Better?

Truths

Today, I found a truth, or, more likely, it found me. I read the Cold Antler Farm blog, and Jenna wrote, "A zen monk once told me... 'When I get frustrated. I meditate. For the first ten minutes it is like being stuck in a phone booth with a crazy person. The next ten minutes, with a therapist. The last ten minutes: with me.'"

Right now, I'm stuck in a phone booth with a crazy person. Today is Dad's birthday. Some years it doesn't bother me, and some years it does. Today it punched me in the chest, then grabbed my throat and squeezed. My feelings about my dad are complicated in the same way that the U.S. tax code is complicated. I'm not interested in explaining it or analyzing it or even thinking all that much about it. I've done all that, and I'll do it again when I need to.

Today, though, I need to stand in the phone booth and wait for myself.

Justification

With any hobby, people are going to have strong opinions about their tools. Baseball players argue about maple vs. ash bats. (Am I the only baseball fan worried about the impact of emerald ash borer on our game?) Gardeners wax eloquently about traditional hoes vs. warren hoes.*  Golfers argue about golf clubs.**

Some people only knit with machine washable materials. Some would rather impale themselves on a 14" straight rather than knit with acrylic.

A yarn shop worker once tsk-tsked me because I use dpns to knit socks and she felt circular needles should be used.

I've been knitting for about six years, and that's long enough to develop some preferences. I prefer metal needles over wooden ones. I believe acrylic has a place, esp. in projects for people who can't be trusted to handwash, but I prefer natural fibers. I like small dyers like Blue Moon Fiber Arts and indigodragonfly, but I buy a lot of yarn at Knit Picks because it's more affordable.

I've been reading about Signature needles but haven't convinced myself to splurge on a set. I read kmkat's blog entry this morning about her positive customer service experience with that company. It's making me think a bit more about the real cost of some of my tools--the cost that includes environmental and humanitarian considerations.

I think I'll put my go-to dpn size of Signature needles on my wishlist.

*The correct answer is, of course, both. Buy both hoes.
**I don't know anything at all about golf, so this is really as specific as I can get. 

Simply Wonderful

On Saturday, Andrew and I went to my nephew's basketball game.  It was the same gym I used for junior high P.E, so there was a certain amount of emotional trauma in being back in that space. No, I can't climb a rope. How is that even physically possible?

Afterward, Andrew, Mom and I took a road trip to Fort Wayne. We had planned to do this a couple weeks ago but were stymied by ice. Indiana weather was cooperative this weekend, probably due to the copious sacrifices to the gods by the Super Bowl committee. Naturally, with the Super Bowl in town, we wanted to get out of town. We're clever that way.

Our destination?

This place is 3500 sq. ft. of sock yarn. It's only open a day or two a week. Most of their business is online. It's a stunning building--old with black and white floors and high ceilings.

And yarn. So much yarn.

The main part of the floor was filled with black bookcases (I'm thinking Ikea Expedits) filled with yumminess, and the walls were full as well.

It was so lovely it hurt just a little bit.

There were a lot of dyers that I had read about but never touched, and I spent a good hour wandering about squeezing yarn. Andrew and Mom both found yarn they loved, and I bought lots of yarn as well as my first pair of square dpns. It was a lovely trip, and we did our part to boost the Fort Wayne economy.

After the fiber frenzy, we went to the Loving Cafe for dinner.

It was a great hippy vegan restaurant. It's difficult to explain how exciting it is to look at a menu and know that nothing needs to be eliminated from my consideration because of its ingredients. I really feel for people who have Celiac Disease or are lactose intolerant. At least I chose my dietary restrictions. I had a vegan BLT, some fries, and a spring roll. DELICIOUS. Mom and Andrew, both omnivores, liked the food as well. I wish they had a restaurant in Indy.

It was a great day, and I'll get to enjoy the yarn for a long time to come.

Everything Is Everywhere

I saw a beautiful painted record, and it made me want to make my own.

So I did.

I bought some acrylic paint and tried to paint a record green.

 It didn't go well.

Luckily, a friend had suggested spray paint.  I gave another record a couple coats outside (in the dark, wondering if the neighbors thought I was weird), let it dry a bit, and then wrote on it. These are the only supplies I needed besides the record.

I made this:

The quote is from "I Believe" from Carrie Newcomer's album Everything Is Everywhere. I love that album. I encourage you to buy it, not just because it's fantastic, but also because the proceeds go to support the Interfaith Hunger Initiative. The album is an interesting collaboration between Newcomer, a Quaker folk singer from Indiana, and the Indian classical musicians Amjad Ali Khan, Amaan Ali Khan, and Ayaan Ali Kahn.  Fantastic. It's startling to me how well the mix works.

Happy Wednesday, everyone!