One of THOSE Months

Knit one, frog two, leads to a knitting hiatus

When you knit, frogging is inevitable. The beast took 4 rows forward, and 10 rows back. I can't stand to look at her right now because she is my penultimate reminder that I CAN'T COUNT my knitting past 2, by two's. Really, it is that bad.

Because I can't seem to count beyond 2, all knitting is on hold. My knitting confidence is so shaken that I can't even care right now that Lolly is nekkid.  'Tis bad, which means it's time for a break.

Measure twice, cut once 

My grandmother taught me to sew, and as a child I wrought stitched havoc for her on 2 of her 3 of her sewing machines. Well I was young, probably too young to be trusted to use such machinery, even under her bird-dog eye.  

Happily, after successfully using an inexpensive portable sewing machine of my own over the years, I no longer wrought stitched havoc on anyone. I could and did sew, rather well, if I don't say so myself.  That made my grandmother so happy that I inherited her third sewing machine. 

So having nothing to do but practice my housework avoidance skills, I'm revisiting sewing. Finding comfort and busy hands again in making patchwork baby quilts, something I've never done before, is a boon to my bruised confidence. Pictures to come...

Comfortable summer clothing for myself is also on my sewing to do list, perhaps a hawaiian shirt or two for Husband ( they're his new fancy, and he rarely takes a fancy to anything ) once I learn how to use my buttonhole foot. Don't know if I can still turn nice buttonholes by hand like I used to.

Anyway...

I have insufficient quilt batting to start another baby quilt. So I started trimming up the pattern pieces for a blouse and pants set, only to learn that a whole sheet of pattern pieces that I need for my outfit is missing. This is the first time I've ever had this happen, and I've been buying patterns since 1983.

Anyone who has pulled a new set of bed linens out of their little plastic zippered bag has some idea of what unfolding a pattern is like. You remove the sheets and start unrolling, not knowing if the pillowcases are really in there until you finish unrolling the neat little cake of sheets and shake them.  And no matter how hard you try, you can't refold the sheets small enough to put back in their neat little zippered plastic bag. Fun times, eh?

It's pretty much the same with clothes patterns. Only the pattern pieces are printed on half twin sheet sized pieces of super thin tissue paper, that are folded in on themselves more tightly than a katana and if you shake them out like sheets  to see if all are there you'll tear them to shreds. BUT, just like the sheets, you can't refold the patterns afterwards. So I typically write up a list of the pieces I need and cut as I unpeel the individual sheets of tissue from each other. 

Where this is going is that I can't just refold the pattern and return it. I have to buy another. 

Sigh, no clothes making for a little while.  Not confidence boosting but neither is it enough to shake what little I've gained from the quilts in the past few days. Now I have to go get another pattern... yes, it's been one of THOSE months...

Lolly waits for clothes

I wanted to share her before now, but burning my fingertips while cooking put the kibosh on both typing and knitting.

Lolly now has 2 arms, 2 legs, and a tail. All stuffed and sewed where they belong. There's not much odder looking than an elephant in panties and Mary Janes, but she did come out cute.

Her dress is now in progress, when that's done I can scratch off the first completed knitted WIP from my list.

More WIP elimination updates

And the Beast is up to 105 rows of 228, I think it is.

Having only an inch-ish knitted up, I'm thinking about frogging the Japanese Waves shawl.  I'm considering casting on Grace Akhrem's Crashing Waves shawl as replacement for Japanese Waves in the queue. A beautiful, simple knit and I don't need a pattern until the lace edging. It doesn't get much more simple than that.

Paved with good intentions, or round washcloth mania

I got turned onto the Lacy Picot Swirl washcloth on the KnittingHelp forum, and it's as addictive as the Almost Lost Washcloth. As if I need another to go project...

Living in a WIP wonderland

This Spring incited a cleaning frenzy in me, the likes of which I last experienced while nesting in preparation for the birth of my now 24 year old child. Yes, crazy cleaning... I can't help but wonder how much storage space, and ease of mind, I could free up if I finished my WIPs. They really need to go live somewhere else so that I can go on to new projects with a clean conscience and, more importantly, have space for new yarns. My best friend can stop snickering right now over the notion that I can have a clean conscience. Right. Now.

I have home-based projects, travel projects, and always an idiot project. Home based projects have the following in common: They are large, or complicated, or charted, or have beaucoup pieces and therefore can't travel well. Conversely, my travel projects are all small, uncomplicated, and either stockinette or an easily memorized & recalled pattern stitch. Idiot projects require very little attention, very little thinking, or very little of both.

WIP Mania Begins

I'm a compulsive list maker so here goes. Can't scratch off completed items without a list... The only one in the correct place order is #1. The order of importance of the rest is TBD:

1. Daughter's wedding shawl a.k.a The Beast: Cobweb lace yarn and complicated pattern necessitates 2 & 3 on the list. Must complete by 10/14. This is non-negotiable as I want to keep my daughter on good terms with me. Undisputed #1. 
2. Red afghan: large Beast relief project. 20% done.
3. Lolly Fant : small Beast relief project.1 ⅞ arm, a tail, and a dress to go.
4. my socks: oldest travel project I have. It's so old it dates back to when I couldn't knit without a pattern in front of me. Half a sock leg to go.
5. husbands socks: youngest travel project. ⅞  a sock leg to go. Once I find it.
6. heirloom baby sweater: My oldest knitting WIP, about 40% done. I'll tell you the story when I start work on it again.
7. feather & fan scarf : old travel project. 30% done.
8. blue dishcloth: needs a couple of rows frogged so I can correctly reestablish the pattern stitch. A DUH! mistake that needs fixin'. ⅔ done.
9. japanese waves shawl: old lace project. barely started when DD announced her impending nuptials.
10. big ol' sun & moon needlepoint: my dinosaur of WIPs. Older than dirt, and my go to for what I call idiot-work. It's what I do when I can't think & can't count but need something to do with my hands. It's paint by number with yarn. Do I really need to be in a hurry to finish this one? Yes, the canvas is so old (2008) that the design is starting to wear off. And you want a matted, framed FO out of it.

I think that's all, though I may find more when I go in search of husband's other sock. My idol and knitting goddess, Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, would likely find my list of WIPs laughably short. But, in my itty bitty house, they and their materiel take up floor & storage space. Speaking of storage, it's time to put away the 4 bags of DK...

Working off a large collection of WIPs, is like working off large debt. You set a schedule, then as WIPs complete, you reallocate the knitting time until they're all done. The Beast will take until October to finish, unless the knitting gods take pity on me (unlikely). She gets at least 2 rows a day until completed, more as I and my fingers can stand it. Lolly is almost done, so she'll be first up as front for Beast relief. I've decided that my socks will be the first of the travel projects slated for completion ASAP (travel not included). And my poor needlepoint will be front from time to time.

Even better than the upcoming batch of FOs is that I get to stop cleaning to work on them. Really, can I please stop cleaning now??

Spuds is spuds

I'm such a spud today. Not that this is different from any other day. But I am more aware of my spud-dom than usual. Somehow I made progress on Lolly despite my resemblance to Ms. Potato Head. What should have taken 5 minutes took me all afternoon.

Why all of this self-recrimination? My spud self gave Lolly black shoes, and I sewed the little buggers up this afternoon.

Mattress stitching black worsted knit up on size 4 needles gets me nominated for queen knitting spud of the year. And a monumental case of eye strain. I fear the award for being crowned queen will be speedy and incapicitating blindness as soon as the winning vote is cast.

Grouse, whine, kvetch

Other than finding those hard to see bars in the shoe stitches (What WAS I thinking? Black shoes??) the gauge made my fingers ache unbelievably. In worsted, Lolly knit up at 5.25 sts/inch on those size 4s o'mine. For me that's a dense fabric. The given pattern gauge is 6 sts/inch so I don't know why I'm complaining. I got the look I want and a toy sized just right for a little one to love on, or to sit on the shelf and look absolutely adorable.

Do what you have to do, knit how you have to do it, to get the look you want or need. That's all that matters. How you go about knitting is such an "I say po-tay-toe, you say po-tah-toe" enterprise. But in the long run, spuds is spuds, y'all.

And as a friend of mine says, I like taters.

Lolly's Yarn Debacle Continues

The DK arrived today and yep, the DK is about the size of Caron's Simply Soft.

Sigh.

I've decided to keep all 4 bags. Skooshy yarn will always, ALWAYS, have a home with me.

Can't use this for elephant clothes.  Time to go digging through sock yarn so Lolly is not permanently en déshabillé. 

She remains partially knitted/assembled because lucky me  found the knitting equivalent of Lay's Potato Chips.  Oy!

Betcha can't make just one. 

I know I can't. It's all Julie Tarsha's fault.  I found her Almost Lost Washcloth on Ravelry, and it was all downhill from there. Sweet little short rows make up the most fun you can have with garter stitch in public. Slowpoke me has managed to crank out 3 in as many evenings (maybe 3 hours each cloth). I only have photos of the last two. When your 20-something daughter looks at something knitted and says "Ma, that's neat," and takes it as soon as its offered, you know you have a hit on your hands.

I happen to like the "spotted" cotton yarns for this cloth instead of variegated where the color striping can pool in wonky ways because of the short rows. But that's me. YMMV.

The recipe doesn't give much direction on finishing. If you're a new knitter: I finished knitting  on the CO 4 row of the 14th point, then grafted those 14 live stitches to the 14 cast on stitches.

You're killing me, Smalls...

And I actually worked on the Beast this afternoon without ripping anything out. Shhhhh, don't say it loud. She's on row 103. Yes, she really exists, and no I haven't started smoking again. I've though about it, but I haven't done it.

Talk about a love-hate relationship... start, stop, start over, frog, quit smoking, *knit more, feed the frog again. Repeat from * for a few months, and you get it.

Roll Tide meets Ole Miss

Ms. Lolly Fant is now in the house.  Well her head is. The rest of her is in progress.

I cast on Julie Williams adorable little Girl elephant in a fronds frock. And let me tell you, once you see the sample knit by Ms. Williams on the Ravelry pattern page, you'll agree that this toy is more Southern than sweet tea and mimosas in the Grove. When completed, the wee beastie looks like the Alabama mascot dressed in her sleeveless A-line frock for Sorority Rush week at Ole Miss.

You can tell I'm jonesing for some SEC football... only about 16 more weeks to go.

It's one of those days

Where the only smart thing to do is cut your losses.

This decision came about earlier today when a cake I was baking either mysteriously fell or didn't rise. Functionally it doesn't matter which is the reason behind the flub.  When I pulled the cake pans from the oven, each was shaking it's finger at me and imitating the Soup Guy: "No coconut cake for you!"

Okay Cake Guy, so I'll cut my losses and have a coconut pudding torte instead of cake. Let's just hope my homemade cooked pudding turns out better than the cake did. This remains to be seen...

Failure at anything sends me running back to the one thing I know I can do reasonably well. So I turned my attention back to knitting. The BSJ is gifted out as of noon, so I need another spot of easy knitting. Hmmm, do I start something new or grab an easy mindless WIP?  Do I even have an easy mindless WIP hidden away somewhere?

What's in the closet?

The question caused me to dig out this old WIP of mine, and ask myself if I can finally finish this thing or cut my losses.  There's not much in knitting that's as mindless as feather and fan... I reached the difficult, but necessary, terminus on this WIP I've had since 2011. I love the pattern, I love the colors I chose, but I. HATE. THIS. YARN.

Even though the blanket is halfway completed, I know I'll never finish it because I can't stand touching the yarn. It's so tough to knit with that I can't say in mixed company the words I said the last time I gave the project a go. I've looked for other projects and uses for this yarn, but can't find one redeemable quality about it. That I still have this WIP after 3 years speaks to the hold yarn has on my heart. I can't even bear to throw crappy yarn away.

The yarn is hard, stiff and in work, feels like I'm knitting with mooring line. I'm sure that if I gave it to someone to rip and reuse they'd hate it - and me, for giving it to them - so much that they'd hang me with the yarn as an offering to the Grand Poobah of Knitting Imps. Said offering would then be rejected by said entity as unworthy. It's that bad, or these colorways are that bad, and life is way too short to knit with crappy yarn. 

 I know many of you use this yarn and may love it. If you are one of those knitters, what follows is just my opinion and worth what you paid for it.

I agree with Stephanie Pearl - McPhee that RH Super Saver yarn, along with cockroaches, will survive the apocalypse. I also happen to believe that until the apocalypse occurs, this yarn should also have a use by: date stamped on it. Much like toothpaste in a sink, RH Super Saver hardens over time. 

The blanket and remaining yarn is going into file 13 where I should have put it years ago.  So I cast on  one of the toy patterns I bought last week. Remember, I have Complicated Startitis? 

I feel pretty good that my Knitting Imp is shaking his finger at me and shouting, "No baby blanket for you!"

Notes to Self, or reflections on a finished project

Just had to share while I bask in the glory of a finished project! My baby is drying as we chat. No buttons are sewn on, I just want to see if I like how these buttons look on the sweater.

Note to self: 

Next time Self, wait until your project is complete before buying buttons, and take it with you to make sure you buy what you need. Your button collection is almost as extensive as your yarn stash.

Continuing on to my next reflection: Gauge matters. I heard what you muttered under your breath when you read that one little word!  It's probably the same thing I mutter: $#@!!! gauge again. I wish I'd have taken a gauge photo before blocking but I didn't.

I do solemnly swear on my yarn stash that my unblocked gauge was 6 stitches per inch, which is EZs gauge to fit an infant who wears clothes no larger than 6 months. However, wet blocking WILL expose your real gauge. Take a look:

Yikes! 9.5 stitches over 2 inches... for an average of 4.75 stitches per inch. Over a much larger garment calling for a 6 sts/inch gauge those extra 2.5 stitches/inch would add up to some serious knitting real estate. Conversely, I know that I can use this yarn and needle size (Cascade 220 Sport Superwash on a size 6 needle, for those interested parties) for a 4.5 st/inch garter stitch garment. 

But I digress. My point here is that while bébé lives in the deep south and will not need a sweater until about November, the extra inches on this sweater are a very good thing indeed because he can't wear it now. Were this a sweater  pattern to be knitted at 6 sts/inch for an adult, I'd be in some seriously deep sneakers! Gauge matters.

Note to self:

Self, when you finally commit to making a sweater for anyone who has stopped growing, make and block the damned gauge swatch!

In the meantime, to block the BSJ I used the process in this awesome blog post from the knitting goddess Stephanie Pearl-McPhee. I'm all about passing along useful info.

Will I indulge my complicated startitis now that I have yarn and patterns? Hmmm, could be... What about you?

Christmas in... April???

Is there anything better to find at your front door than this? 3.2 pounds of worsted yarny goodness for 2 elephants, 2 rabbits, plus clothes for each!

Amazingly enough, this luscious box o' goodies sits unopened in my office, awaiting the completion of some adult responsibilities ( yes, I have those too) and the last 6 ridges of garter stitch on the BSJ collar. I'm drooling every time I look at the box. Unfondled yarn is unhappy yarn, y'know? 

Appearances are deceiving

My knit to quit BSJ looks really nice, and I told Husband over coffee that I should have it completed this morning for his coworker.

I pulled out my pattern to find out where I was starting for the day. Then I looked at my sweater. Unhappily, where I'm starting turns out to be ripping back several inches of beautifully even striped garter stitch. Another offering to the Frog Prince of Knitting, who routinely sucks up yards of my yarn as quickly as Lady and the Tramp suck up their spaghetti.

At first glance, nothing seems wrong, which must be why it got this far. But a closer look shows there's no neck opening for the poor little bèbè to stick his adorable little head through. The cast off neck stitches also add inches to the width of the sweater. Oy! Munchkin sweater indeed... How did I flub this badly and not know it?

Knowing better rarely means doing better

We all know this story. Most of us have done the same thing, more than once. We knit merrily away on a pattern we know well, or think we know well. The knitting is just peachy and then something looks a bit off.  For me it was this: I'm almost to the 158 stitch count, but don't have anywhere near the 90 stitches needed between the stitch markers. To ignore this little something in the middle is to court knitting disaster, so I stop, count the complete number of stitches on my needle, quickly compare against the pattern, find the total is correct, shrug my shoulders then trust that my little something in the middle will resolve itself, much like a Who trusts that Christmas is coming all the same.

What I didn't catch was that I missed the instruction to cast off 5 stitches, keep working even until I hit 158 stitches. I can hear my great-grandmother saying "Aie!Yi!Yi! chère. You know better." as she shakes her head at me. Heaven knows I heard THAT all through my childhood. Heaven knows I say it to myself at least once in every knitting project, shaking head and all.

A bad move, nay, a stunningly bad move on my part. The only explanation I can think of is that I was seriously decaffeinated at the time, yeah that's it. So now I get to frog those lovely, lovely stripes and do them again, remembering to cast off for the neck stitches so that a) baby will have a place to rest it's precious head  and b) the sweater will be large enough to fit a real human child.

Of course, it's a recoverable error, but it's one that forces me to eat crow yet again, because Husband has likely told his co-worker that I'm almost done.

When you eat crow, does it taste like humble pie?  Why, yes it does.

What to do when you can't knit...

Can't think, can't count, can't smoke; what to do? Ahhh, needlepoint, a.k.a. color-by-number with yarn.... soothing, very soothing...

What about you?

Knit to Quit makes my house a Beast Free BSJ Zone

Yes, yes, yes, I know. October and my daughter's wedding are quietly creeping up on me. Danger! Danger! Danger! The shawl is woefully behind schedule.  But, the beast is on hiatus for good reason. (Yes, like hurricanes and ships, the beast is a 'she.') This knitter's brain is more hopelessly stuffed with fluff than Pooh Bear's head. Cutting out the nicotine will do that to a person.

However, the beast has little forgiveness for the dumb and dumber mental fuzzies that come with quitting smoking. She's a jealous little wench who wants all of you. And right now all of me is a few attention spans shy of her mark.

Knit to Quit?

Having learned to knit, I can believe that learning to knit pushes one towards a cigarette, not away from them.  I hear that lots of people take up knitting to quit a bad habit like smoking.  Having joined the tobacco repentant crowd for the fourth time in my adult life, I can see the boon of having something to do with your hands instead of reaching for a smoke. But, in my befuddled tobacco free state of mind, the most complicated thing to which I can attend is garter stitch. Thank heavens for the BSJ I cast on for beast relief!

6 days ago

Here's my BSJ before I quit ( I finally figured out how to get pictures up here!):

Today

My BSJ 6 days into my quitfest (ye gods!):

Cute little origami sweater, right? 100% garter stitch is perfect for the quitfest.  What you can't see to the left of the BSJ is my newest quit smoking aid - a drinking straw. After 6 days at ye olde feedbag, it's time to find another way around my oral fixation than food. Drinking whatever floats your boat through a straw tricks your mouth into thinking its smoking when it's not - a handy way to steer clear of the dietary shoals that most of us face at quitting time. And it keeps potato chip crumbs off of my BSJ...

Have you used knitting to quit a bad habit?

A Beast relief expedition: It's a BSJ day or two

I promise I'll figure out a way to get photos up here. Until then, let's chat shall we?

Back in December I cast on my first big project, Susan Pandorf's In Dreams  shawl for my daughter so that I had plenty of time to complete it for her wedding in October. It has come to lovingly be nicknamed "the Beast," for a few reasons. It is my first expedition into knitted lace (brilliant of me, eh?) and has 9 charts, and 2 are always worked at the same time. I love the beast, but it's a big honkin' thing worked in cobweb silk with a bad attitude.

So to maintain my sanity, I go on beast relief expeditions.  Simple projects in larger yarns with at most one chart.  One is another big project, Totally Autumn by Anne Hanson, a gorgeous lacy, leafy afghan in bulky yarn. But I get the "completion urge"  monkey on my back from time to time, so until the Beast is completed I'll always have a third much smaller project going. Which brings us to the BSJ day or two.

I just love Elizabeth Zimmermann's Baby Surprise Jacket (BSJ).  It's an origami baby sweater and a beloved marvel of knitted engineering by the baby knitting brigade.  All garter stitch and only two seams for those of us who'd rather have a root canal than sew up an itty bitty baby sweater. Definitely an attraction for me... the two seams, not the root canal.

The BSJ was my first EZ pattern to knit up. After I saw it for the very first time, it became my very first "I MUST knit this" project for my great nephew. During the knitting, I became convinced it was a trick project she pulled from a topography textbook. You know, that geometry stuff where spheres are really donuts? All I could think as I worked was "How will this turn into a baby sweater?" and "If the knitting gods are kind, they'll turn this sweater-thing into a donut, I can't drink wine and knit at the same time."

But, it turned out to be the smartest pattern decision I ever made. From the shaping, I learned much about just what can really be done with knitting. And the sky and your imagination are the limit to what can be done. From Elizabeth herself - and I paraphrase her here, it may look odd but press on - I learned to TRUST THE PATTERN.

I so fell in love with the BSJ that I made two for my grand nephew, and I just cast on #3 for one of Husband's co-workers who is expecting his 6th child.

What's your favorite go-to pattern for your beast relief expeditions?

Portuguese Knitting

I learned to knit English. And yes, I was grateful to be able to do it, still am. Tortuous, slow, and limiting as it was for me. Knowing that I could do English led me on a search of other ways for me to knit faster and easier. Continental was out (and yes, I tried) because I can't manipulate my right fingers or feed stitches down my right needle. So I kept looking, and am I ever happy that I found Andrea Wong's Knitting Daily TV spot on YouTube. If you're willing to explore new ways of knitting, take a gander at it and give it a go. I think you'll be more than pleasantly surprised.

I sing Andrea's praises to all who will listen.  Visit her at andreawongknits.com for more information. She's a really nice lady. Thank you Andrea!

Lions and Tigers and Knitting Gauge, Oh My!

The gauge swatch, speaking frankly, is the bane of new and not so new knitters everywhere. We knitters chat incessantly over making gauge, not making gauge, whether or not we have to make a swatch. I hear groans from new knitters already - UGH! Do I REALLY have to do that? Can't I just start knitting? 

Well, yes... there are no Knitting Police. But I generally recommend that you start knitting your project with knitting that swatch. Especially if you're new to knitting. Few of us are Elizabeth Zimmermann's, though many of us (myself included) are EZ wannabe's. 

Gauge really does matter

Knowing your knitting gauge (usually quoted in patterns as X sts and Y rows per 4" or X stitches per inch) can answer a multitude of questions that likely never come to mind until you cast on and start working. Until you've worked with a yarn enough to have a feel for how many stitches per inch you'll likely get with a certain size needle as EZ did, a gauge swatch is your playbook for your project. Want to know:

How many stitches should I cast on?
How wide will my project will be? 
How many rows need to be knitted? 
Can I skip that repeat? 
Can I use a variegated yarn to make this?
Will the sweater fit?
How much yarn should I buy? 
Do I even like working this pattern stitch? 

Your gauge swatch gives you these answers. And for a new knitter, the swatch gives you more time on task, and therefore more experience knitting. More time on task and the above list are the pro's of the gauge swatch. The biggest con is that a gauge swatch isn't really usable for anything other than that project, and who wants a bunch of little 4" squares all over the place? Even if you can make a blanket out of them, how many blankets do you really need anyway? The other con is that for slower knitters, knitting gauge swatches to try and make gauge takes time away from your project.

I've picked up a couple of helpful hints over the years to get around the cons that I'll share.

Cotton is King!

To answer the "do I even like working this pattern stitch?"and "how will a variegated look?" questions:

Work your swatch in cotton yarn and make a dishcloth out of it. A ball of cotton worsted is much less expensive to try out a new stitch pattern. If you like how that comes out, the sweater you planned using the stitch pattern will be an enjoyable knit even in a different weight yarn. And you have a nice twofer freebie in the dishcloth.

I will add one caveat here. The colors in variegated yarns pool, sometimes in odd ways. Unless you're using the same cotton yarn for your project and swatch, do your swatch in the yarn for the project. You can always rip it out and reuse it, especially if the yarn is expensive.

Garment pieces can be a gauge swatch

If you're committed to the 'I just HAVE to make this!' sweater, use your sleeves as your gauge swatch. (Thanks, EZ! You were a smart, smart lady...) No little 4" squares cluttering up your place. This works especially well for baby garments, which are small. For larger garments, it can be fairly easy to quickly see if you're even approximating the stitch count per inch you need. In that case, its much less to rip back and start again.

Should I or Shouldn't I swatch?

My general rule of thumb is that there is a difference between having to make gauge and having to know my gauge for a project.

Making Gauge

To knit fitted garments such as socks, sweaters, gloves, mittens, for example from a pattern and have it fit correctly, I have to match the designer's gauge, or "make gauge." If I have to make gauge I always swatch. If I can't make gauge, and still want to do the project, I'll have to break out the calculator and adjust the pattern.  That's an UGH! for another day.

Knowing Gauge

Most other items, such as dishcloths, scarves, hats, afghans, and toys for example, have more leeway. They don't have to be a particular size to be used and loved. For these projects, I measure my gauge in the project pieces themselves, if I even bother.  Sometimes it really doesn't matter. Knowing my gauge is useful if I want to change the dimensions of a project such as making a blanket longer/shorter,  narrowing a scarf, or adding more ribbing to the cuff of a sock. And that can give me enough idea of whether or not I need to buy more yarn, and if so how much.

'Nuff said on gauge. I have some knitting to do today. You probably do too. As EZ said, "Knit on, with confidence and hope, through all crises." Words to live by.

Being grateful isn't just for Thanksgiving

Oh gratitude, that most elusive of human emotions: this one is for you.

My kids will tell you that I can out grinch the Grinch himself. And I can. But I've hit the time of year when I can no longer fail to appreciate the Grinch's miserly heart growing three sizes.

Among many things for which I am grateful, I am immensely grateful that I can hand knit at all. Those of you who are non-knitters and non-yarnies may fail to appreciate the why of it.  Why I at times forget to appreciate it at all, is an absolute mystery to me.

Almost 13 years ago, on 21 December 1998, I had a stroke that rendered me virtually senseless for a very long time, and among many other things, I lost all use of my right hand for 6 months, and have not regained fine motor control of my right hand to this day. Honestly it's unlikely that I ever will. My adaptation was to accept that my right hand was virtually useless.

 I haven't buttoned my blouse with both hands for 13 years.  I haven't typed with two hands in 13 years. There are many, many things I haven't done with two hands in 13 years.

Back in 1998 I was an insane crocheter, a craft requiring the use of fine motor control of both hands. Then BLAM!, that was gone in an instant.  No more crocheted baby clothes, baby blankets. No more crocheted toys or doilies. I missed playing with yarn and thread more than mere words can express. And this loss of a much beloved hobby stayed with me, when I've gotten used to the other losses from the stroke.

Then I discovered machine knitting in 2008, which I could do with my left hand and at most one thumb  from my right hand. Yes, that bad boy works a wee bit now. And I could play with yarn again, which felt like a miracle.

Then in February 2011 over a weekend, I learned I could knit by hand in the English method in a very non-standard way. There are no words to express the ecstasy that came with that discovery. I could finally work with yarn using both hands!

Though I can only physically feel it in my left hand, knitting was and continues to be an incredible emotional experience. I can now reason (reasoning took me a long time to recover) my way through how to accommodate most knitting stitches. And if you watch any knitting videos on YouTube, you'll see what an accomplishment that really is for me without the use of the fingers on my right hand.

There are some things knitted that are impractical for me to do without having the use of the fingers of my right hand. I'm hesitant to say impossible because I'm still learning and figuring things out, though I'm sure there are things I physically can't do. I am a much slower knitter than most, and impossibly slow compared to expert knitters. But I knit all the same, and the quality of my work is impressive. Adapt, improvise, overcome.

Rehab after my stroke taught me the usefulness of the military motto "adapt, improvise, overcome." Relearning how to do the things most take for granted, walking, talking, thinking, reading, dressing all in a new way teaches you that there's not much you can't do with a workaround. You just have to look. However, some things just don't seem to have a workaround. In part, adapting means accepting your limitations.

Accepting limitations is highly useful, but there's a large but. Sometimes that acceptance blinds you to what really can happen through improvisation, and it kills the gratitude. Until February 2011 I'd not realized just how far this motto could take me. By improvising past my adaptation, I learned to overcome.

And I am grateful. So if you hear me relate things to knitting, now you know why. It's gotten so much better since 1998 and 2008. Never, ever let go of the gratitude. It is what keeps you adapting, improvising, and overcoming. Hold on to that.

Get a new hobby, this one is scary

Having recently taken up knitting, I've learned a few things concerning my erstwhile hobby.  It's twisting my brain into contorted positions a yogi could never achieve, even over the course of several lifetimes.

For me knitting is not just a hobby, but a meditative technique that frees my mind to think about well, whatever crosses it.  Most people react to my flights of mental fancy with a polite "get another hobby." That's the only polite thing they can say about how my brain works.

Those two seemingly innocuous stitches, knit and purl, once mastered exert a pull on the psyche only matched in nature by a black hole. The comparison is apt: Knitting is the black hole, and mastery of of those two stitches the event horizon. Once you cross there is no escape. Nevertheless, once inside, you discover a multiplicity of new universes. 

My previous universe was knitting a baby sweater. A kind and comfortable place. My current universe is sock knitting. In practice a sock is just a bent tube that is closed on one end. In my mind it became anything but.

In knitting, I embraced elementary school math by adjusting my gauge because I can't match the gauge of a pattern to save my life. For the average knitter gauge adjustment can feel as intimidating as making the leap from counting to calculus.  At times, just the thought of it is enough to make your eyes roll back into your head and induce a seizure. 

4th grade math was never as important as it is when you realize the gauge swatch you just knit for your sock means said sock would fit a full grown yeti. It only takes ignoring gauge once and knitting one yeti-sized sock before cracking open your child's math text to relearn calculating ratios so that the suckers will fit a real person. Once applied and happily knitting away, that gauge conversion ratio frees my mind for thought exploration.  Be afraid, be very afraid.

In this way the sock universe becomes Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile.

At a minimum, a knitted sock could probably best be described mathematically as a non linear function that would turn most mathematician's bowels to water. It sure does that to mine. Remember, I just re-embraced  4th grade math?  The series of twists traversed by a single strand of sock yarn worked toe up are mathematically more impressive than the age of the universe. And my mind begins to wander...

The function gently spirals up in size in size from a line of stitches into a cylindrical ovoid encompassing the instep. To become the heel, the function traverses a plane of stitched short rows worked back and forth. It them continues back into cylindrical form, and is ribbed before the function reaches its endpoint.  I wonder what that equation looks like??? Really? Really. Resistance is futile.

As I work steadily away on my sock, observing my work in progress brings me to the brink of mathematics, with the question "why does my sock look like THIS?" The easy answer is that it isn't finished yet. However, knitting a sock from the toe up generates shapes reminiscent of the most incomprehensible of topological transformations.  What n-fold torus can this sock form, hmmm? 

How does a mathematician really see a donut in a coffee cup? The same way I see a finished sock in a ball of yarn, that's how. I don't think Riemann had socks in mind as he worked, but that something as simple as knitting a sock can bring topological transformations to mind says a great deal about the power of both math and knitting. 

Maybe mathematicians could answer the big questions about the universe investigating socks... 

And all of this came from calculating a gauge conversion. No wonder it scares knitters.

 I'm often told "get another hobby." Now you can see why. Resistance is futile.