The UnSTABLE Knitter

HPKCHC: Spring Break at Hogwarts

2009-04-04T17:30:00.004-05:00

That's the combined output of three months at Hogwarts in the Harry Potter Knit and Crochet House Cup. My individual output, I should say; the Quidditch basket came together quite nicely, though my teammates had to suffer through some badly written, untested patterns from me.

During March, I focused on finishing two big projects. First, DADA:

The Vigilante cardi, which taught me the value of Constant Vigilance. Somewhat shockingly, it's only my second finished sweater. It is a vast improvement over the first (which was so bad I wore it once or twice, couldn't overcome the shame, and destroyed all evidence of its existence). Somewhere in those five or six sweaters I cast on in the middle, I became a much better knitter.

It's not fully blocked yet, so it will probably change appearance slightly. For the amount of trouble this sweater gave me, I'm pretty pleased with it. Something funky is going on with the armscye, which is sort of inflexible and a little too tight, but on the whole, this is a wearable sweater that fits well, is reasonably flattering, and will not need to be buried at midnight under a new moon. I was so thrilled when I finished it, I sat in the coffee shop with my fists in the air, basking in my knitterly glory. I think the guys talking Star Wars in the corner were a little freaked out.

The other big FO is, of course, the Huepow's Garden shawl:

I just don't have words for how happy this shawl makes me. It's a bit itchy, but I don't care. It's not as big as I thought it would be, and I still don't care. It doesn't have the second row of beads I was planning, I didn't block in the texture in the blue stripes the way I wanted, some of the darned-in ends are more visible than I'd like: don't care, don't care, don't care. I love this shawl. This is one of those projects that makes me feel like a genius. Seriously, look at those beads:

I can't get enough of them. This shawl has been very good for my self-esteem.

HPKCHC isn't quite over; the teachers are still totting up the points. The last time I looked, Ravenclaw was ahead of Slytherin by three measly points, so we're all biting our nails up in Ravenclaw Tower. But whatever the outcome is, I'm feeling really good about my participation in the game these past three months. I finished quite a few projects, accomplished some real feats of fiber manipulation, and had fun doing it together with people I like.

It's stupid o'clock

2009-03-28T01:34:00.003-05:00

Do you know where your T-pins are?

If alien anthropologists were to study my fiber habits, they would no doubt conclude that blocking could only be accomplished after stupid o'clock, usually while extremely hungry. I seem unable to block things at a reasonable hour. Sadly, alien anthropologists, there is no benefit to blocking things this late, no magical power in pinning things out by moonlight. It's just that once I finish a million-mile-long bind off, I tend to underestimate the amount of work that goes into blocking.

You'd think I'd learn. Even with the blocking wires, which have speeded things up considerably, I can easily take two hours to get a shawl pinned out, and most of that time is spent bent like a frog sticking pins into the carpet while my knees and back scream for mercy. But the thing is, once you get going, you can't just stop and come back another day. The wool is getting dryer every minute. There's no time to waste.

So here I am again, physically tired, very hungry, quite tired, but unable to sleep, because I'm on a blocking high. And this shawl wasn't even lace.

I think I will go eat something.

This is my city

2009-03-21T20:25:00.003-05:00

I took a walk.

I took my camera.

This is what my camera saw.

One of these things is not like the other

2009-03-19T23:15:00.003-05:00

Let's play a little game, shall we?

One half of this sleeve was knit at my local stitch and bitch. One half was knitted at home, parked on the couch watching TV.

Any guesses which is which?

This sleeve, by the way, was taken from my hands to show a new knitter an example of stockinette stitch. The one doing the demonstrated said, "See how this is smoother?" and then charitably added, "Of course, this hasn't been blocked yet." Obviously not. I don't know how much blocking can remedy that sort of knitting. And it was a dry meetup, too.

The cardigan that once had it in for me has decided to trade its orneryness in for the most powerful demotivator: monotony. After the lace pattern on the body combined with the shaping, the sleeve is really pretty boring. I now have this much sweater done:

...and it looks like I'm on track to finish well within my deadline of the end of the month.

More challenging is going to be the Huepow's Garden shawl. Last time you saw it, it looked like this:

And now it looks like this:

This is the hardest thing about knitting triangle shawls from the center neck out. You start with rows that are four stitches wide and sail gaily along as the rows get wider and wider. Then you get to a point where you are pretty comfortable with the row length, which for me is at about half the finished width, and realize it's just going to keep growing. But by the magic of geometry, when you reach half the finished width... you're only a quarter of the way done knitting. You're feeling maxed out on the rows, and you have to do what you did three more times.

And then, of course, you have the pleasure of casting off something like two thousand stitches, being very, very careful to do it loosely enough that it will stretch during blocking, because heaven help you if you have to unpick those two thousand cast off stitches to redo them. It's enough to drive a woman to the bottle, but apparently that also has a detrimental effect on the average knitter's ability to execute a simple bindoff with accuracy (although the tension might no longer be an issue).

Right now, I am about two third of the way done with this shawl, and I can only knit a row or two at a time without feeling ready to burst into tears, eat a lot of chocolate, or throw the shawl into the street to be dragged away for nesting material by squirrels and raccoons. So far, only the promise I made to show it off at my LYS has stopped me. But will this one be done by the end of March? ...I might have to cheat and bind off early, if I care about my sanity or the health of my liver.

Definite signs of progress

2009-03-10T21:04:00.003-05:00

After the great swatch disaster of last post, in which I was cruelly deceived by a malicious tension square, I set aside the cotton stuff and took refuge in wool.

And I just kept knitting and knitting and knitting.

In keeping with the theme of geeky knits, this is a video-game-inspired shawl. Not as obvious as the Ood, but perhaps even more dorky. The inspiration came from this guy:

...who also goes around looking like this:

That, of course, is Huepow. Klonoa's best buddy, masquerades as a Wind Spirit, prince of the Moon Kingdom (that's where the colors come from). Even in his humanoid form, he does a fair bit of floating. That gave me some trouble, because the HPKCHC assignment I'm making the shawl for requires the depiction of the magical creature's tracks, and what kind of tracks does a floaty wind spirit leave?

Well, I'll tell you.

Beaded ones.

Instead of prestringing beads- because that's just annoying- I added the beads as I knit, pulling each stitch through the bead with a #12 steel crochet hook. (And if you're wondering how big a #12 steel crochet hook is, just imagine how many angels could dance on the head of a pin... and cut that number in half. That's how many fit on the head of a #12 steel crochet hook.)

After my first successful go at beaded knitting, I was feeling pretty confident in my abilities. That swatch had played tricks, sure, but I am a college graduate, and I'm pretty sure my yarn is not. I could outsmart this thing.

Having played by the rules of swatching and been mercilessly beaten at the gauge game, I threw away everything I ever learned about swatches, picked a needle size that sounded good, and cast on the number of stitches for the size smaller than I wanted. In a logical world, in which the normal rules of swatching applied, this would have given me a piece of knitting either three or fifty inches wide. Instead?

22.5" on the freaking dot.

Now all I need is for someone to reassure me that this:

...will be resolved with a good steam blocking.

Lies, damn lies, and swatches

2009-03-05T02:05:00.005-05:00

I have been lied to. I have been let down. Betrayed. Mislead. Scammed by a piece of string.

I know it's not all that unusual for a swatch to lie, but boy, this was a whopper, a BFL, a lie of truly epic proportions.

I'm attempting to knit a DROPS cardigan in DK-weight cotton, but I have to say at this point, it's not going well. It starts like this:

I swatch. I measure. My gauge is too small. I block, just in case. I measure. Still too small. Okay, I rip out the swatch.

I go up a needle size. I swatch. I measure. I block again, just in case. This time, the gauge is perfect.

I cast on 118 stitches, which should give me a 22.5"-wide piece of knitting.

It doesn't.

I work a few rows, measure, and stare blankly at my tape measure. I finger-block the knitting experimentally. I am four inches in to this sweater, and the 22.5" back? It is 26" wide. And that's before I attempt to stretch it. Remember, this sweater is cotton, which means it's supposed to have negative ease.

Four inches over 26 inches is quite a change, so I go down two needle sizes and start over. I would have declared it beer o'clock, except that my SnB meets in a decidedly dry coffee shop. Instead, I chugged a hot chocolate and cast on 118 stitches again.

I knit to the beginning of the lace section and stop to take a measurement, because now I am wise to the cotton's wily ways. This proves to be a valuable moment of clarity, as the 22.5" back now measures 24" precisely.

At this point, I feel I ought to offer an apology to the other patrons of the shop, as my remarks about the sweater became a bit heated. My engineer buddy and I did some quick math- in a moment of stunningly clear foresight, I had brought a calculator along in my knitting bag- and I realized that there was no way on earth I was going to get gauge with this yarn. I would be knitting on pins before I got the required gauge.

I needed to reduce the number of stitches.

At this point, having been working on this confounded sweater for approximately five hours, with a small break to crash the sale at the LYS, I decided I was done. Really done. To console myself, I attempted to begin a simple triangle shawl, could not figure out how many stitches to cast on, could not figure out where to place the decreases, ripped it all off the needles, and called it a night.

An arithmetic analysis of my knitting tonight would show that I achieved the impossible: a negative stitch velocity. I knit continuously through tonight's SnB, and at the end of the night I had less knitting to show for it than I came in with.

I think I may cry.

HPKCHC: February Wrap-Up

2009-02-28T00:20:00.003-05:00

February went fast. I suppose that shouldn't come as much of a surprise, since it's the shortest month of the year, but it gets me every year.

On the knitting front, progress was somewhat slow. I accomplished three knit projects for HPKCHC, but nothing nearly as monumental as last month's stash cleanup project. Still, I can add this little guy to my list of achievements:

He's an Ood, and I'm enormously proud of him because I knit the whole thing without referring to any kind of pattern at all. That little brain is even crochet, and I figured the whole thing out on my own. It turns out that if you understand how to knit a garment to fit a part of the human body, you also have a pretty good idea of how to knit something that looks like that part of the body. Go figure.

I feel the need to address one point of last month's HPKCHC accomplishments: the 12-month plan. Now, I knew full well that I was never going to follow that plan. I am just not that kind of knitter. I get distracted. I am unfaithful. There's a reason I never posted that plan here, and that reason is that I only ever half-heartedly (maybe only quarter-heartedly) intended to follow it.

With that disclaimer, I think I can feel pretty good that I even picked up something off the list at all: those pink cable socks that I was going to knit while I was in North Dakota. I did in fact start them while there, but size 0 needles and splitty Tofutsies got old after a while. This month I did actually pull them out of hibernation, finish up those blasted cables on the ankle, and turn the second heel. Currently, these socks are the purse socks, and they are roughly mid-gusset. That is much more progress than I made on them in the last several months, so I'm giving myself a (small) pat on the back.

As far as HPKCHC goes, the secret project will remain secret from the blog for the time being, as will the song I wrote for History of Magic, because I'm totally embarrassed to be one of those people who writes filk and then posts it on the internet. Also, mine is nowhere near as cool or funny as Tom Smith's, so if you want to listen to filk from an Ann Arborite, go listen to his.

I don't know what next month will bring, knitting-wise. I'm hoping to do some knitting to sell on Etsy, as a small financial experiment, and I have a commission to finish up. But I won't know what the HPKCHC assignments will be until the month actually begins, so I've lined up a few interesting things in my Ravelry queue, just in case they happen to fit the assignments... stay tuned.

Denominations for beginners

2009-02-20T00:26:00.002-05:00

The diversity of American Christianity can be confusing even to people on the inside, but today the masthead quote at the Boar's Head Tavern provides a useful illustration of the differences.

“… Besides, the Word is the principal part of baptism. If in an emergency there’s no water at hand, it doesn’t matter whether water or beer is used.” - Martin Luther

The major demarcations in American Protestantism can, I think, pretty much be summed up my their reactions to this quote.

Liberal Mainliners: You know, that's a good point.

Emergent/emerging: Our next baptism will be performed with a pint of Guinness.

Baptists: Where will we get enough beer to fill the baptistery?

Southern Baptists: Beer?!?

DADA: Pimp my Bible

2009-02-18T02:34:00.006-05:00

It just struck me how appropriate this particular project is for a class called Defense Against the Dark Arts. Bible accessories vs. Dark Arts. Nice.

The February assignment for DADA was:

Expecto Patronem: Make something having to do with your patronus. Extra points for explanations of what your patronus is, and why.

I was a bit slow to figure out what my Patronus would be. Last month's Charms assignment also had to do with Patronuses (Patroni? Sounds like a really tasty pasta), but I never made it past the association with purple. For this month, though, I wanted to work on developing the idea of my Patronus a little bit, since this assignment focused more on the Patronus itself, rather than its effects.

I went back to a name I'd been given previously. There's a whole story about fire names, rooted in the tradition of summer camp, and it feels a little silly to talk about it outside the circle, as it were. Essentially a fire name is a descriptive name that represents something about your character.

I was given the fire name "Unyielding Granite", which I have since decided is something like calling once-Cardinal Ratzinger the "papal bulldog" (only a bit more Protestant). I like having conversations about religion and matters of doctrine, but I'm also pretty unmovable on the things I'm convinced of. Luther said- reportedly- "Hier stehe ich, ich kann nicht anders," and I'm of much the same mind.

So I got to thinking about what animal might best represent this aspect of my nature, and I arrived at the obvious answer: the Ox.

Well, it was obvious to me.

I have other associations with the Ox, too: I was born in the year of the Ox according to the Chinese zodiac. Also, the ox, in the Bible, is associated with those who teach the Bible- fitting, I think, for someone who wants to work in Bible translation.

Having settled on the identity of my Patronus, I took a longer time trying to figure out what project I could possibly knit to tie in all those meanings. The ox is not the animal most likely to be represented in knitted form. Cue inspiration number one: The oxo cable.

I knew that the project had to be small, because I wanted to knit it from the leftovers from last month's Charms project, which was two-thirds of a skein or less. And it had to look good in purple.

Finally, two weeks into the planning stage, I put together the meaning of my Patronus with its function, worked out the sum, and found its form: Bible accessories! (Is there anything more Sunday-school-Protestant than Bible accessories?)

Introducing the Purple Patronus Pen Pocket:

...modeled by the lovely ESV Journaling Bible (the best investment I ever made. Seriously. Dead useful). I had been keeping a pen tucked under the elastic strap that holds the book closed, but it kept falling off or poking me or flipping around at inconvenient times. I think the pocket will be much less likely to cause injury. (Plus it looks prettier. ^.^)

The PPPP is the latest upgrade in a series I'm making to this Bible. The very first thing I did was make more bookmark ribbons, because one bookmark isn't very useful at all. Next up, I think, will be adding a little accordion file-ish pocket for the scrap paper notes that are currently sitting free inside the front cover and fall out the instant they get a chance. We'll see.

Greener

2009-02-15T20:09:00.003-05:00

I've spent a fair amount of time marvelling at the Yarn Harlot's way of knitting, which she calls "Irish Cottage knitting", though the rest of the world seems to know it as "lever action knitting" or, more picturesquely, "armpit knitting" (or "crotch knitting"). It's a variant on English knitting that keeps the right needle stationary, and though I don't fully understand how it's worked, that's probably because no one has ever been able to slow down an armpit knitter enough to see what they're doing.

She's fast. Really fast. But then I stopped to consider how fast I knit, in terms of stitches per minute, and I found that I wasn't that much slower. If I'm concentrating, I can whip them off the needle at about that speed. (Stopping to scoot the stitches along the needle every ten stitches or so is what slows me up.)

So why does my knitting look so slow and hers look so fast? I think it's because she uses such big motions to work the stitches. It's counter-intuitive- you'd think that to go faster, you'd want to minimize motion. So I thought about this a little bit.

The Harlot and I knit at about the same speed, stitch per stitch. The difference is that she can keep it up for a long, long time, whereas I get tired easily. It turns out that it's the little motions- like the small motions I use when knitting Continental- that cause repetitive stress injuries. By knitting with those large, sweeping motions, her hands are getting less tired.

So now I'm weighing the costs and benefits of switching knitting techniques again. I know that I'm running up against the grass-is-greener principle here, but really, what can it hurt? If I try it and don't like it, I can switch back. All I have to lose is a few hours of feeling clumsy and uncomfortable at something I'm pretty good at. It's just a matter of steeling myself to survive those hours, which sounds silly, but feeling like a total beginner again is rather stressful. The question is, is it more stressful than having to lay off knitting and ice my arm for the days after Christmas?

HPKCHC: January Wrap-up

2009-01-31T22:10:00.002-05:00

Whew!

January has been a flurry of knit-related activity, most of it for the Harry Potter Knit and Crochet House Cup.

I finished the Charms assignment and the Quidditch designs early, which was good, because I was going nuts trying to finish everything else by the deadline (midnight tonight). First up, Herbology.

The assignment, if you recall, was to clean up the greenhouse (that is, organize the stash). I can sum it up in two pictures.

Before...

...and after.

My needles are organized and entered into Ravelry. I wore out several sets of batteries taking pictures of yarn and projects to update my Rav notebook. Stash is entered. Projects are up-to-date. And I have a 12-month plan for my knitting.

I feel so... organized.

Next up: Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Eh. It's a mug cozy. I'm not a big fan of the design, but it was quick, I could knit it from stash, and it will keep my caffeinated beverages warm.

The project I'm most pleased about is this:

The Opposing Forces cap for Arithmancy. It's based on my character numbers (9, 2, and 7) and knit from some Manos Silk Blend.

OMFSM, I am in love with this yarn. It's soft. It's warm. Even when it pools, it pools in cool swishes that bring to mind comet trails and stardust. This hat may never come off my head.

In theory, according to my 12-month plan, I was supposed to finish up the Snowblowing Scarf tonight (which is just a really wide, thick version of the Noro Scarf in Taos), but I'm tired and I'm hungry and I don't want to knit when I'm in that kind of mood. Instead, I think I'm going to mess up the grand 12-month plan on the very first month and just put it off for a few days. Besides, the new assignments should be up tomorrow, and I want to be in good shape to decide which classes to take.

Herbology: Ollivander's Wands and Hand-held Labelling Machines

2009-01-26T20:29:00.005-05:00

This Herbology Update is brought to you by our sponsors: Ziploc bags, Dymo labels, and Oxford notecards, the Holy Trinity of cheap organizational tools.

After the last update, this project languished for a bit as I realized the enormity of the task ahead of me. Finally, my fellow Ravenclaws provided me with the three things I needed most: gentle encouragement, sage advice, and a swift kick in the butt.

The most helpful counsel came from GazeboGal, who pointed out that I did not actually need to finish frogging everything in my frog pond in order to complete the assignment. This was the part I was stuck on, and the realization that I could shove it all in a basket, stick it on the top shelf, and deal with it later freed me up to worry about more important things: like whether I was going to run out of Dymo labels.

I was.

A Dymo labeller is like a Muggle's special organizational magic wand. I swear to you, if you print out a label, the stuff in the closet organizes itself. I set to work this month and used up an entire label cartridge.

I labelled my circs...

...and I labelled my Options.

I labelled my yarn...

...and by then I had discovered the secret of the well-organized greenhouse. It really doesn't matter how messy things are; if you shove them in a bag and label it, it's organized. It's kind of like how if you just make your bed, your mom thinks you cleaned your whole room. It's a spooky kind of magic. I am convinced that Ziploc bags and Dymo labels are the secret of Molly Weasley's success.

The small WIPs got bagged, too:

These required a little more detailed label than I was willing to print on a Dymo labeller- after all, those cartridges ain't free. Instead, I went for a lower-tech solution:

3x5 notecards, recording the project name, design sources, yarns, needle size, and any other pertinent information that I am likely to forget if I put the project down for a few months. (Almost every project gets put down for a few months, so this seemed prudent.) Every project has one now, and I think I have drastically reduced my chances of getting to the second sock and forgetting where I found that strange and beautiful toe construction. (Answer: Bosnian Garter Stitch square toe, Lucy Neatby, Cool Socks, Warm Feet. It's awesome; check it out.)

Had I quit here, it would have been an amazing improvement. But I'm a Ravenclaw and therefore stubborn with a perfectionistic streak, and I was determined that I would not quit. My total lack of sewing knowledge or an unbent needle in my sewing machine did not stop me from whipping up these:

Needle rolls, rudimentary but effective, thrown together from sheets of felt and scrap ribbon. The stitching wouldn't pass muster with a four-year-old, but once they're rolled up, you really can't see the stitches (which is good, because they bring to mind the words "drunken monkey", and not in a positive context). I'm planning to work up two more rolls, one for DPNs and one for crochet hooks, and then plunk all of them into a vase to look somewhat decorative.

Less crafty but somewhat neater is this:

14" straights in an organizer. My goal is to clean out the extra needles, pair up needles where I'm missing some, and turn this into a full set of 14" aluminum needles. Just in case I need to travel somewhere where space is limited and I don't know what projects I'll have with me. What kind of emergency this would be I don't know, but it can't hurt to be prepared, right?

Even my knitting bookcase has gotten in on the organizing action:

Design notebooks and knit lit on top, pattern and instructional books on the bottom. Simply lovely.

With less than a week to go until this assignment is due, I've made excellent progress, I think:

...and now it's time to start updating my Ravelry notebook with stash counts and photos, updated WIP pictures, and needle info. This assignment has been hard work, but I think I'll be very pleased with the results when the month is over- and ready to tackle a Venomous Tentacula, just for a change of pace...

Coping

2009-01-24T19:11:00.004-05:00

It's been a hell of a week, and I'm wiped out. Deaths, illnesses, and two car accidents (neither of them mine, and one involving a hearse (!)) have spread the suckitude fairly evenly across seven long days. There are only five more hours left in this week, but I'm still waiting for the other shoe- or shoes- to drop. A house fire would round out the week perfectly.

The universe doesn't really work like that, though. Does it?

I think I've coped with this week fairly well. I've cooked and eaten real food. I've planned meals and shopped using actual grocery lists. I have made and consumed vast quantities of tea. I've gotten out of the house, worked full days, and interacted with other people. And today, I even made a dent in the swamp of yarny chaos unleashed by my Herbology homework.

So why do I feel like something else rotten must surely be coming my way? A moth infestation? An accidental felting? A fatal stabbing with a sock needle? An early death brought on by the anxiety of trying to outguess fate?

Herbology: Live from Filch's office

2009-01-05T22:54:00.002-05:00

Today I rounded up all the yarn, needles, patterns, labels, and projects in various states of completion and chucked them into yarn jail. I dumped things out of bins and bags and threw them all into detention together, where I've half a mind to make them knit themselves as punishment. I sorted them into large categories.

Looks pretty under control, doesn't it?

Pfft. That's the picture I took before I cleared the bed, took a break, took a nap, started my DADA homework, and put away more laundry so that I could have more storage. This is what it looks like now:

As far as I can tell without shifting too many piles, this is all the knitting stuff. (Still haven't found the rogue ball of alpaca, so watch your back in the corridors.) With everything now safely imprisoned, I am left with this:

It looks so nice and neat and clean and full of potential, doesn't it? And I didn't even take a picture of the clear plastic drawers and non-Ziploc Ziploc bags I have to organize it all.

So.

Now what?

I'm not at all sure how to go about organizing this stuff. I'm going to have to work up a plan before I even begin to tackle it, because there's too much that needs to be done. And preferably get it all done before I absolutely have to crawl into bed again. Is there some kind of spell that will sort and update my stash for me? Stashinem Ravelo?

Charms: It makes me smile

2009-01-05T01:29:00.005-05:00

My Charms assignment went more quickly than I thought; taking out the laundry and dishes and midnight snacks in between, it was probably two, or at most three, hours from casting on to taking coy half-self-portraits.

The January Charms assignment:

This month you will be learning The Patronus Charm.

Expecto Patronum

Knitting or crocheting as a cure for seasonal depression. Self explanatory. Pretty much knit anything that will make YOU happy. May not be a gift for someone else. No matter how much you NEED to get a beret made by the 9th for your best friends birthday.

And the finished assignment:

And it worked; I am feeling relaxed and happy after knitting this in a way I haven't felt in quite a while, and here are seven reasons why:

The yarn. It's Manos Silk Blend. It feels like clouds and baby skin on my head.
It was instant gratification knitting. I don't do a lot of instant gratification knitting. But this? This is like record time for a project. I have knit dishcloths that took longer than this. Accomplishing goals improves my mood.
I have a deep and abiding love for purple. If I could produce a corporeal Patronus, it might just turn out to be a hyperintelligent shade of lavender. I saw this yarn and had. to. have. it. I identify with purple, and have since I was writing intensely serious poems on the back of my science papers in middle school. This is my color.
I have more of this yarn left over. I could make another one if I wanted. I could make matching wristlets or something. I could keep the leftovers as a pet. Point is, the fun's not over yet.
It's reversible- it looks just as cute with the purl side out. Maybe cuter.
Successful pattern adaptation. This thing is a Calorimetry, except it's nothing like a Calorimetry. Nicer rib. More delicate yarn. Less winter necessity, more hair accessory. And dudes...

It has ties. Oh yeah. I kicked this pattern's butt.
I lied. There is no seven. This makes me happy too, somehow.

One assignment down. If I can knock out the DADA assignment (a tiny little mug cozy) tomorrow, that leaves me the rest of the month for Herbology and Quidditch. It might even leave me time to try my hand at some of the other courses...

Soar on, Ravenclaw!

(Oh, that polka-dot blanket that the teddy bear is lying on? That's what you got me for Christmas, Nana.)

Herbology: The Great Stash Hunt

2009-01-04T18:51:00.005-05:00

The first Herbology assignment is straightening up the greenhouse, documenting the process with before and after photos. Most students were able to sum it up in one or two pictures.

Me, I had to go on a Stash Hunt.

If I were a Slytherin and had a somewhat more casual relationship with the truth, I would just post these two pictures, which is where all the stash is *supposed* to live:

This is messy enough to get me booted out of Ravenclaw, I'm sure. But see those big empty places on the shelf? Places where you could fit a whole lot of yarn? Think of them less as being empty and more... mobile.

Some of it had only got a few feet outside the closet, probably just for some fresh air.

Some of it travelled with me for Christmas and was therefore above suspicion.

Some of it was near enough to make its protests that it got lost among the empty soda bottles plausible.

But some of it? Some of my stash clearly has plans of its own. I found some of it looking for dark corners under furniture from which to breed, plot world domination, or both.

(That's a box of vintage sock yarn and a case that should be full of stitch markers and pins. I think the Wintuk has evil designs.)

Worse, this book was getting ready to extend my stash's dominion back to North Dakota:

And some of the stash I simply haven't unearthed yet.

Hogwarts Castle, beware. There's something dangerous and unnatural roaming the corridors, preparing to turn us all into its slaves (or its dinner). And I rather think it's a rogue ball of alpaca.

Unresolved

2009-01-02T00:23:00.002-05:00

Every year I agonize over whether I should make a New Year's Resolution. I know they're not effective for me; I know that as soon as I miss a day, I'm done for the year. But it seems like such a nice thing, to set a big goal at the beginning of a new year. I like challenges. (I just don't always like following through on them.)

I'm not feeling guilty about it this year: I'm not bothering with any resolutions. There's too much to do already, and it would feel stupid and self-centered for me to try to toss some vanity weight or spend my energies on something that just doesn't matter. Besides, diet food is expensive and doesn't taste good.

I am, however, capable of committing to impossible goals if the goal itself is completely inconsequential and also involves yarn. I know this because I signed myself up for the Harry Potter Knit and Crochet House Cup, and I'm totally psyched.

The HPKCHC is a Ravelry-only affair (so stop slacking and make it your New Year's Resolution to get on Ravelry! The wait list is only a few days now) in which you get points for homework assignments in various Hogwartian classes. (That word? I hate that word. It showed up in the most tense moments of HP7 and I spent a full minute stumbling over that word. "Hogwartians?" Seriously? I wonder how long poor JK agonized over that word choice before she decided nothing else would work.)

Anyway, as I say, you attempt various homework assignments, earning points for your house. It's totally awesome. And if you didn't sign up yet... you're too late. Sorry. Next term. For now you get to wait while we have all the fun without you, haha.

I'll put a box up in the sidebar with my HPKCHC progress soon, and I may even get back to actual knitblogging. But I won't promise anything, because that would be too much like a New Year's Resolution- and that would pretty well guarantee that this blog would be dead for good in about a week.

Happy Halloween

2008-10-31T18:38:00.002-05:00

I'm quite sad David Tennant is going to be leaving Doctor Who, but that didn't stop me from making him into a decorative vegetable. (Template is from Pink Raygun.)

Happy Halloween, y'all.

Picture time!

2008-09-14T18:13:00.004-05:00

I wasn't very good about taking pictures in North Dakota, but here are some things I saw:

My first view of North Dakota, from the train.

North Dakota has ridiculously courteous and patient drivers.

Trees.

Shadows.

And on the way back, I saw Minnesota:

Mutant albino squirrel.

A robot.

Republicans.

Really obvious street signs.

Ahh, finally back home...

Er, no, wait, that's in St. Paul. Not quite the UM I know and love.

Automatic FAIL

2008-09-14T15:54:00.005-05:00

Want to lose an argument with a linguist? Here's some help, garnered from actual internet discussions:

"It's not a dialect difference. It's just wrong."

"Why can't people just pronounce it the way it's spelled?"

"Well, I've never heard anyone say that, so it's wrong."

"That's not what the dictionary says."

"That's not what my middle school English teacher said."

"People like YOU are the reason the English language is deteriorating."

"If it were anyone else, it might be dialect, but because I believe this person is stupid, it's just because they're stupid."

"That's not your dialect. You're just lazy."

Use of any of the above lines of reasoning is grounds for automatic FAIL. Using one of them seriously is grounds for a beat-down.

Coming home

2008-08-07T17:25:00.003-05:00

Just a brief note: I have successfully found a way back home from North Dakota- though I'm afraid to type it, just in case I jinx it- and will hopefully not have crazy axe murderer for seatmate on the way back.

North Dakota is:

flat
full of unnaturally nice people
crazy busy
flat
fun
lacking in squirrels
abundantly supplied with rabbits
flat
did I mention busy?
and FLAT?

More when I have slept, rested, and done something other than school.

I shouldn't have to write this letter

2008-05-31T22:14:00.004-05:00

Dear street guy,

No matter how not-drunk you are, no matter if you have kids my age, no matter how nice and sane and reasonable you seem to be, and no matter how much you like my haircut, running your hand through my hair without asking me is not acceptable. Ever.

Ew. I cannot take enough showers.

Most sincerely,
Me.

Fairy-tale endings

2008-05-28T00:08:00.002-05:00

I love watching movies about gifted kids who start out with crummy parents and find their fairy-tale parents. Matilda. August Rush. They used to make me happy.

Now they just make me cry.

Close your eyes and think of England.

2008-05-27T21:33:00.004-05:00

That's been my motto this week. The thing about taking a long trip is that you have to do things you've been putting off. Hard things. Boring things. Long things.

Stinky things.

But none of it is as bad as getting screwed over at the gas station these days. There comes a point when you have to say, To hell with the budget, I'm just going to have to fill up. And so you close your eyes and think of England.

Except, of course, gas prices- or rather, petrol prices- are even worse over there. If you've been paying attention on Ravelry, there's been a good amount of international petrol price wanking going on, with people on both sides of the pond and both sides of the border at each other's throats. Not pretty.

Besides, we should all be at the oil companies' throats instead, right?

Still, I'm not convinced that that lovely little isle ruled by the Queen has it as bad as they think. Their intercity busses may be inexpensive and infrequent, but at least they exist. And if you can walk to the grocery store, you're still doing better than I am. Plus, they've got free health care! That's, like, a quarter of my monthly budget that they don't have to pay for at all!

How did this turn into a gas rant? I love the British. They make great TV. And radio. And accents. But it's too late now to turn this post into anything else, as I have to go do more things with my eyes closed and my thoughts trained on England. I guess I'll just have to send this one out with apologies to the offended Brits. I love you guys.

Oh, and Mr. Tennant? The offer's still on the table.

David Tennant, will you marry me?

2008-05-23T23:34:00.003-05:00

And talk to me in your sweet accent?

I don't have anything useful to say; I just had to see if it would work twice.

David Allen, will you marry me?

2008-05-22T22:22:00.002-05:00

I am not, by nature, an organized person. I am a creative person. I make connections between things in all directions, not always in obvious ways. This means that while I like to categorize and organize and have structure, I am pretty bad at coming up with structure on my own, because I get overwhelmed by all the different ways it could be done.

Enter the eternally sexy David Allen. And by "sexy", I mean... balding middle-aged consultant in a suit. But any man- or woman, for that matter- who could come up with an organizational system that actually makes sense to me automatically earns the appellation "eternally sexy". It's a rule. Look it up.

I went out and splurged on this last night. It's moderately famous among geeky sorts, and I'd heard of it before but never really understood the concept. Turns out, it's this perfectly brilliant system for getting stuff out of your head, so you don't have to worry about it constantly.

I stayed up way late last night reading it, and by the time I was done with the second part, I was determined to set this system up for myself. So today was Implementation Day. I followed the rules, I worked through the flowchart, I got in touch with my inner office supply fetishist, and at the end of the day:

I have folders.

I have a calendar.

I have a workspace where I can do actual work. (My desk doesn't count, because the computer takes up the entire desktop).

And best of all, I got things done today. Lots of things. I made phone calls and sent emails and faxed in forms and put batteries in things and went to the library and changed the paraments and emptied (emptied!!!) both my email inboxes and even had time to do some knitting. Freakin' amazing.

I am a superhero of productivity.

I knew I had to get this into place before I leave for North Dakota, because the one thing that would have made college a million times better for me is the one thing I could never figure out: study skills. Up until college, school was so easy for me that I didn't have to schedule study time or plan to work on assignments before the night before. I never learned the sort of organizational and time-management tricks that were a matter of survival for most people before they got to university. It made my life miserable, but I could never figure out a better way.

Hooray for the people who can figure out better ways!

I predict this semester suddenly becomes a thousand times easier than any semester before.

Planning ahead

2008-05-19T21:27:00.004-05:00

It's a skill I have in very limited quantities. Today I was subbing as a "media specialist", meaning "library front desk drone". I packed only my usual purse knitting, thinking that surely there would be books to check in and reshelve or something else library-ish to do, and an hour's worth of knitting was certainly more than enough to get me through the day.

WRONG.

By the end of my planning period, roughly halfway through the day, I was ready to graft the toe of the second Simple Seven sock. I always feel a little guilty when I knit while I'm working, but honestly, I checked out no more than ten books in the course of seven hours. There wasn't anything more work-relevant to do. The other front desk drone was reading a magazine (Vanity Fair, I think), so my time-killer was more productive than hers, or so I imagine. I got a wearable garment out of mine, at least.

The Simple Seven socks look like this:

Side view:

I'm not terribly impressed with them. The short row heel and toe left giant holes at the sides and don't even fit that well. I like the garter stitch effect, but I think I may be going back to the good ol' heel flap and wedge toe, which have never yet let me down.

I was a little disappointed in the TOFUtsies yarn, too. It tended to be a bit splitty, so I had to keep my eyes on my work at all times. Right now, I'm feeling the eye strain pretty bad. I can't wait for my new glasses to come in; I'm hoping they'll help with the headaches and eyestrain. Better lighting in the living room would probably do wonders as well.

These socks raise my WIPped into Shape total at 2 out of 8. I've got to get moving a bit faster on some of the other projects.

Dear Joe the Stalker,

2008-05-15T22:54:00.003-05:00

Hi. It's me, the woman from Big Name Copy Store. Remember, the one you tried to walk home from work that one night, the one you kept staring at while she was working, the one whose manager told you, in essence, to perform physically impossible acts on yourself? The one who was enjoying her time at the library when you turned up?

I'm not screwing around any more. The police have your name and description, and buddy, they're on my side. And they are bigger and stronger than you.

Creep.

In closing, please go stick your bits in a clamp.

Absolutely no love under any circumstances, you perv,

Me

Doctor's orders

2008-05-12T22:37:00.003-05:00

Compare, please, these two lists:

Doctor's List of Items to Avoid

Citrus
Raw vegetables
Greasy or fatty foods
Caffeine

Only Foods I Felt Like Eating This Week

Oranges
Baby carrots
Peanut butter sandwiches
Tea

The more I think about her list, the more my brain hurts. What, exactly, am I supposed to eat? Bananas and chicken broth? (Just the thought of chicken broth makes me want to urp. Yuck.)

So naturally, I picked up a pizza tonight. I feel better already.

Meet George.

2008-05-10T18:26:00.003-05:00

This is George. He is my very first ball of handspun yarn. I am immensely proud of him.

I hope that he will now leave me alone so that I can actually get some knitting done.

Progress, regress, and progress in the wrong direction

2008-05-08T23:43:00.003-05:00

The past few days have seemed to move very, very slowly, but at the same time it's incredible to me that the week is almost over.

I made some progress on WIPped into Shape Month. The first thing I did was finish the Boring Socks:

...which turned out to be a little short. I'm hoping they'll grow a little when they hit the water, but the last item I knit with this yarn (my HP house sweater) didn't grow at all. When it comes to knitting, I live in a near-permanent state of denial. Despite the sizing issues, this counts as my first finished object for the month.

I continued this trend by putting sleeves on the A-squared cardi. It was a big hit at the SnB last night; everyone got a chance to fondle the soft, soft alpaca and angora. I finished the second sleeve, but just barely: it was knitter vs. yarn in a race to the finish before I ran totally out. I have just enough of the main color left over to seam the underarms. Today I added the button bands, including my first ever buttonhole, which I'm not all that impressed with. There must be a neater way to make a buttonhole than cast off, cast on. At any rate, all that's left is to weave in the multitude of ends and add a button, so this cardi is very close to being finished.

I might have accomplished more on my WIP month goals except for a minor distraction that turned into a major time-suck: spinning. Now, I want to make clear at the outset that this was not my fault. I could have continued knitting happily all month were it not for Alice the Enabler, her drop spindle, and her English angora. (My idea of paradise now consists of rolling around naked in a pile of English angora. ...What?)

After Alice pushed her crack- er, spinning, on me last night, I remembered how much fun spinning was. And I remembered my drop spindle, and I remembered that big bag of lamb's wool in the seaweed-y colors, and three hours later:

A whole lot of single. My spinning is actually pretty consistent now, not thick and slubby like it was when I started. At some point, I'm going to have to figure out how to ply all this single, though, which is when I'll find out just how uneven my tension is. Ah, well. I'm learning a lot as I go.

And finally, some actual, practical, non-fiber progress. I had my first real interview with a Wycliffe rep yesterday! I'm starting the application process and taking my first real steps toward membership. It was exciting to sit down and look at plans and timelines and feel like my life was actually going somewhere.

The only real setback this week is, once again, this blasted cough I caught. It's back, it's mean, it's ugly, and this time it's actually starting to be painful. Warning to everyone: I'm back on the narcotics for the time being, drugged to the gills, falling asleep at completely inappropriate times, and with no filters between brain and mouth. Should be exciting.

I'm WIPped.

2008-05-05T14:58:00.004-05:00

I had a fit of honesty last night. Well, increased honesty, anyway. I started photographing pictures of some WIPs for Ravelry, and I got carried away. By the end of the night, I had uploaded significant portions of my stash and nearly all of my WIPs, excluding only the ones I was really embarrassed about.

It was a bit of a shock when I was done. Remember that Yarn Harlot essay about when she decides to haul out all her WIPs and start finishing them? It was like that. I didn't find identical single socks the way she did, but it was pretty close. I found a pair of socks that only needs the second toe grafted. I found two pairs of mittens in progress. There were two sweaters roughly three-quarters done, and at least one more sweater I'm not admitting to and am planning to frog. There were more barely-started afghans than I could handle without the bracing influence of a strong beverage.

The end result? 16 WIPs in Ravelry, and at least five more I'm pretending I didn't see. This is probably some kind of a statement on my character, but I'm choosing to turn it into challenge:

WIPped into Shape Month

Purpose: To cut back on the number of WIPs in my yarn closet.

Goal: Cut my number of WIPs in half in one month (May 5 to June 5).

Strategy: I have my eye on these projects:

...which are all reasonably near completion. The list may change, though, since I have more socks and two pairs of mittens that would involve less work. The reason I'm not focussing on them right away is that I'm afraid knitting socks and sock-like things so much would make me really really crazy. I like socks, but not that much. I need a break from the monotony.

On the other hand, that's how I got into this mess in the first place.

Reward: Should I successfully complete half my WIPs during the month, I will allow myself to make a knitted coat. Possibly this one.

Now I'm off to tackle a WIP or three. I think I'll start with those Boring socks, which only needs the second toe grafted. That's, what, a 10 minute project? For 100 Knit Wars XP, I can handle that.

So... is she alive or isn't she?

2008-05-03T20:41:00.003-05:00

I should know better than to expect to understand everything in a Japanese video game. If nothing else, I should have learned that from Katamari Damacy. But dang it, when I've spent hours and hours and hours of my life watching cut scenes and fighting the same impossible boss again and again, I want some closure at the end of a game. Did FF7 deliver that?

Um, not really.

I spend an hour fighting various incarnations of Sephiroth/Jenova, during which the sun goes supernova approximately 20 times, something I'm sure the astrophysicists would be surprised at. I've spent at least a year- or has it been two years?- playing this game on and off, which involved me playing up to the final boss twice. I've had my mind messed with, I've had to play though a scene where my character took a bath with, like, 20 other guys, I've cried at predictable moments. About the only thing I haven't done is raised or raced chocobos, at least not any more than I could help.

So here's what I want to know:

Is Aerith alive? Is she half-alive? Did she, in her dying moments, excrete her soul into a shiny ball that dropped into the planet's core, and is that what's alive? If Cloud really wanted to meet her in the Promised Land, shouldn't he just have let go at the edge of the cliff, so he could drop in and see his ain true love?

Also, Zach. What is the story with him? How much of Cloud is Cloud, and how much is Zach? If Zach was the cool soldier boy, how come Cloud turns out to be the one who defeats Sephiroth? What happened to Zach? And, since my characters seem to understand all this much better than I do, why don't they breathe a word of it to Zach's parents? I mean, that's just cruel.

Could someone please explain to me the difference, or relationship, between Holy, the Planet, and Lifestream? Which one is Aerith controlling from her semi-undead intraplanetary state?

Tifa? Seriously, Cloud ends up with Tifa? That would be like, like, like Harry ending up married to Luna. Wrong, wrong, wrong. (I just typed "wroung" three times in a row.)

I understand there are sequels to this game, including, I think, the movie Advent Children. Clearly, I am going to have to do some more research, because I'm coming out of this game with no clear sense of what happened in it.

Small things

2008-05-02T21:16:00.004-05:00

First of all, I need to state that the contributor to Cast On #63, the one with my name, is not me. It's the curse of having a common name. I also have a crappy series of Christian women's fiction named after me.

I had a really great day at work today. The TA in the room told me that I was the best sub they've had all year, which made me feel just wonderful. Add to that the return of the MCY trolls, and I've been in a fabulous mood today.

I have knit like the wind this week, but I can't show you pictures, because so much of it is gift knitting. Once the gifts are distributed, though, the piccies will appear, so have patience (or brace yourself, depending on your blog tastes).

Now, just for a change of pace, I'm going to pull out some crochet and watch a few episodes of Jeeves and Wooster. Hugh Laurie, yummmmmmmmmmmmmm.

It ain't your grandma's knitting.

2008-04-29T20:20:00.002-05:00

The poor unfortunates who come into contact with me for any significant period of time soon find out that knitting has a culture all its own. And that culture isn't what you might expect from the stereotypes of knitters the big culture clings to. There are still grandmothers knitting scratchy things out of crappy acrylic, and there are still pregnant women knitting tiny booties and caps, but they're not the bulk of the knitting community.

How can you tell that knitters aren't as mild and sweet as Muggles think? Look at what they're knitting.

There are patterns out there that would make your grandma blush. Heck, some of them make me blush. Thongs, bras, pasties, and willy warmers are just the beginning. Today, for some reason, I keep running across patterns representing the male anatomy. Dishcloths. Purses. Chapstick cozies. Stuffed models. (British/Anglophile readers: you know what I meant.) Pillows with male bits poking out. I am deadly serious. I swear, I'm not looking for them.

And not only are there patterns, people actually make these things. Cruising through the finished objects at Ravelry, I just keep stumbling over them. The things are everywhere, apparently making up something like 2% of projects- which doesn't seem like much, unless you browse a few hundred patterns at a time.

As my poor Muggle housemate says every time I tell him about the exploits of assembled knitters, knitters have their own culture. It's weird. And this time, I can join him in saying, "I don't get it."

Using our powers for good

2008-04-24T19:30:00.004-05:00

So, the thing is, I'm a linguist. Playing around with made-up languages is fun; I get that. But there's a sobering statistic that bothers me.

2,251 of the world's languages need a Bible and have none of it. Not a single verse.

On the other hand, there are at least partial translations of the Bible into:
Lolcat
Klingon
Pig Latin
Quenya (that's Elvish, for non-LotR fans)
D'ni (okay, I'm the guilty party here)

...and any number of other conlangs, probably. Think about all the translation power that's getting used up in wikis and forums across the net. Imagine what that could do, were it loosed on natural languages, ones that actually need translations.

The internet is a great place to see the power of lots of people to do little things that add up to big things, like Wikipedia or Knitters without Borders. I wonder, are there ways to loose this flood of power into the realm of Bible translation or literacy?

While I wonder about that, ponder this bit of good news:

"So liek teh Ceiling Cat lieks teh ppl lots and he sez 'Oh hai I givez u me only kitteh and ifs u beleevs in him u wont evr diez no moar, k?'"

Iz John 3:16, k?

It's finally spring!

2008-04-21T15:04:00.002-05:00

Finally finally finally! It's spring outside! That means...

Cherry trees!

Flowers!

Bike cops!

Okay, I don't have a picture of the bike cops. Wish I did, though. They're yummy-licious.

The weather is beautiful, the windows are open, I'm wearing shorts, I have a positive balance in my bank account, all is right with the world. Any minute now, the Torchwood season finale will show up in the On Demand menu, and I'll be in about a perfect a condition as a person can be on this earth.

Happy Spring!

I iz on Harlot website?

2008-04-17T12:59:00.006-05:00

Sort of accidentally, but hey, I still think it's cool! Look for the third picture from the bottom, and then look left.

Kaarina, the person whose picture this actually is, was my knitting buddy for the night. She's awesome and incredibly brave for a new knitter. That bag she's wearing? Her first project. Those socks she's holding? Her second. We worked on the heel flap together while we waited in line for a very long time. Then we went to the Busy Hands Afterparty and Yarn Sale, where I bought the yarn I'm struggling to save for North Dakota.

Things I have learned about knitting and the world.

2008-04-16T14:44:00.002-05:00

Stoplight knitting should be done on circs. There's less chance of needles falling out.
If you come enough times to her book signings, the Yarn Harlot will recognize you.
When on meds that cause weight gain (or, I suppose, pregnant), shawls are more practical to knit than sweaters.
The best way to get family members to understand knitting is to get them to have a geeky craft of their own. Like woodturning.
Strangely, the above rule does not seem to apply to scrapbookers.
You can find a group on Ravelry for anything. Anything.
And speaking of Ravelry? Endless source of entertainment.
Being in the company of knitters makes me want to knit more.
Make that "knit every waking hour".
And several of the non-waking hours.
Being sick is a great way to get more knitting done. Assuming the meds don't knock you out.
If you ask the lys owner if she has more colors of that lovely and dirt-cheap laceweight, she'll pull out her entire stock to check without complaining.
Some new knitters are really really brave. They are examples to us all.
Lace knitting is the best knitting in the world.
Yes, you can knit lace without a lifeline, but it's better not to tempt the knitting gods.
Don't pull laceweight from the center of the ball. Just don't.
It is totally normal to have yarn piled on every available surface of your room/house. Totally.
It is also totally normal to knit while soaking in the tub.
Knitting socks in public draws out the curious inner knitter in everyone around you.
Having three lys's makes me really, really spoiled.
Some lys's have better yarn selections than others.
Give up looking for sock yarn at Meijer's. It ain't there.
Everyone can knit the same pattern and their projects will still be totally unique.
Before modifying a pattern, at least consider that the designer might have known what they were doing.

I will now continue to pretend that the last... *counts*... five months of blog silence never happened. Toodle-pip.

Whoa.

2007-11-12T01:09:00.000-05:00

It's either a miracle or a cruel cosmic joke.

Every once in a while I pull out my old lappy, the one that died many months ago. I plug it in and push the power button and have about three seconds of hope before nothing at all happens.

Today something happened.

The lappy turned on.

It's still not in top shape, and I have to wonder- is this just the last gasp of this mechanical relic? Will this last only for a few days before abandoning me to my computer-less existence again?

But it's a little miracle, and I take miracles whatever size they come in.

What am I DOING?!?

2007-10-31T20:27:00.000-05:00

I will not quit.

I will not quit.

I will not quit.

Never mind that my life is hell. Never mind that I just started a new job. Never mind that I'm likely to go even further out of my mind.

This is tradition. This is what I do in November. There is no November without NaNo.

But.

Did I mention my life is hell? My life is hell. A big, roiling, boiling pot of hell on wheels. Fiery, burning waves of scalding hell in a soup tureen.

Great galloping goblins, my life SUCKS. It SUCKS. I cannot overstate how much my life totally and completely SUCKS.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH.

<\whine>

Disciplers

2007-10-22T17:10:00.000-05:00

I have to admit, I skim my blog subscriptions more than I read them these days. This is why it is beneficial to have short paragraphs, small words, and plenty of pictures on your blog, because that's what it usually takes to get my attention. Dan Edelen's post got my attention with a pretty picture, but reading it has gotten me thinking. And wishing.

Dan is apparently lucky enough to have had bad experiences with "disciplers". Myself, my experience with "disciplers" ended around the time I entered middle school. He describes the ways discipling relationships can go wrong; I wish I could experience some of them.

Who am I learning the faith from?

I have to ask myself, again and again: where can I find real spiritual food?

The more I learn, the more I am learning that I am just beginning to understand the basics of the gospel. What I was taught for years about the Christian faith was hardly gospel at all. But now that I have tasted the real thing, I'm desperate to find someone who can feed me more of it.

But who? Where? Where is the godly person who can take time to teach? Where is the one who teaches with authority? My mentors in the faith are people with blogs and podcasts, people I may never meet face-to-face. The Bible is impenetrable to me without someone whom I can ask for help and guidance. But it seems to me that those who teach don't know, and those who know don't teach, so where is the one who will show me how to follow Jesus?

Somebody please catechize me.

Wake-up calls

2007-10-21T16:29:00.000-05:00

My phone has started doing something interesting. At approximately six o'clock every morning, Monday through Friday, I get a call. When I answer, a robotic voice says,

Hello! I'm calling for a substitute.

Now, this is not totally unexpected. I've been hoping to get calls like this. That's what I was aiming for when I applied to be a substitute teacher. But there's just one problem: I can't accept the jobs yet. To accept a job, I need a PIN, so that the system knows it's really me- but the sub subcontractor (hahaha) has not sent me those precious digits.

It's like getting woken up every morning by a maid in a frilly apron with a tray of strong coffee and Cocoa Puffs who stands in the doorway, laughs, and leaves.

So I'm spending my days reading, replaying old Doctor Who episodes in my head, tangling up large quantities of yarn, and wondering how I will ever last in a classroom full of ~~restless natives~~ exuberant children. Mostly I imagine all the ways this new job, if it ever materializes, could go very, very badly. When I get stuck in that mode of thought too long, I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and think of November, because November proves I can do anything. Twice.

What? You don't remember what November is? You must need some coffee. (I always need extra caffeine in November.)

We're less than two weeks away from National Novel Writing Month, and I'm starting to get excited.

Well, excited and nervous.

Well, okay, mainly nervous.

It may seem like a minor thing, in light of the chaos the rest of my life is in, but my muse seems to have gone on vacation. He checks in every once in a while, sends me postcards with pictures of beaches and a hint of a plot idea scrawled illegibly on the back, but basically he and my Inner Editor have gotten married and are off on an extended honeymoon trip. There are flashes of inspiration, sure, but they're lightning bolts, and I would settle for a nice, steady night light. The plot I was thrilled about at midnight has faded by the time I wake up at noon. Characters are figures so shadowy I can't see the whites of their 70's disco wear, let alone their eyes.

Last year I started planning in July. I am starting to panic.

I know other NaNo writers have been in this same position many times- some of them late in November. And I know others have wise advice on how to reach the 50,000 word mark. I just fear I'm going to end up with a month's worth of confused and verbose dreck. Particularly, I dread having to take up a strategy like that of one "Indie", whose forum topic is titled "This Year, I Shall Mostly Be Padding My Word Count With Pornography".

No, this year I want to write a serious novel. Not characters being chased by agents of death and stopping to play mini-golf. Not misfit alien voyagers who make chicken soup and teleport onto football fields. I want to write a Real, Proper Novel. One that doesn't involve randomly placed animals or long discourses on cheap food.

I need a panic button.

Ahh, that's better.

Cheque-ing in

2007-10-06T16:04:00.001-05:00

Is it August again? I swear it's August again. It's hot outside, my life is thoroughly boring, and I'm hunting for a job again. Does this sound familiar?

It's hard to say how I feel right now. I feel like I've been stuck in the same place for months. On the edge of going broke, with painfully unoccupied days and a thousand desperate plans to get some quick cash. I always thought people who took vows of poverty were noble and brave, but right now I think they might just be crazy.

I'm making a crazy move right now; I'm going to apply to be a substitute teacher. It would be a good position in so many ways- it would get me some teaching experience and give me summers off to to SIL training. Brilliant, no? Here's the catch- it will take nearly all the money I have to pay for the training to be certified.

It's terrifying. But I have to try for something. I just hope whoever cooks for Bible study in the next few weeks cooks lots, so that I won't have to go buy lots of groceries before I have a paycheck.

Of course, if anyone would like to buy, say, a pair of hand-knit socks or mittens, or a crocheted quilt, that person could help ease my worries... ;)

The poor among us

2007-09-02T17:22:00.000-05:00

I will do my best not to make this a rant and not gossip. If I thought the problem was only with the anonymous man mentioned below, I would not write so publicly. But it's too easy to see the same kind of reasoning in churches across the country, and I can't keep silent about it any more.

I didn't make it to church today. I was on my way. I was looking forward to being there. I needed to be there, I thought. But I didn't make it.

I was waylaid by another member of my church. Why, exactly, he stopped me, I don't know. I don't have any idea what he was trying to tell me, or at least not what was important enough to stop me on the way to service for. But stopped I was, and stop I did. Something was on his mind, and for some reason, instead of fleeing from him and his pontificating ways (like I usually do), I stayed to listen.

The topic we eventually got to didn't surprise me. It was the homeless people who sleep outside the church.

It took us forever to get there, so I'll spare you the defensive and outrageous conversational padding and get right to the major points. Here's what he said, in one poisonous nutshell:

Our church has good preaching, a good organist, a good choir, and a pretty sanctuary.
Despite this, our church experiences only minimal growth.
Since, in his words, we have the "big things" covered (as detailed in point 1), we should look at "small things" that are keeping people out of the church.
Outsiders have complained to him that the homeless people outside make them uncomfortable.
This is a problem because without numerical growth, monetary giving to the church will decrease.
Any adequate solution to this problem involves forbidding homeless people to sleep on our porch.
Anyone who doesn't like this solution is too wishy-washy to make a decision and stick by it.

So what's the problem? Well, this:

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor...
Isaiah 61:1-2a

... or any other of what must be hundreds of instances where God makes it clear that in his Kingdom, his poor are taken care of.

There are many things to be concerned about in this reasoning, but I'll just highlight one. It seems obvious: "What you win them with is what you win them to," as some now-anonymous wise person said. If your primary attraction as an organization is fine oration, good music, and beautiful architecture, then of course the presence of the poor on your doorstep is just an aesthetic problem, just a blemish. A little bleach and elbow grease will have it out, and the crowds will come pouring in to your sanctuary.

If only Jesus had said, "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you surround yourselves with beauty." I wish. But it's "if you love one another". And people don't get excluded from "one another" because they have to take their weekly bath in your restroom sink.

It's the first part of that verse, though, that is at the heart of my concern. "All me will know that you are my disciples." What does that mean? It means that we take up our cross. Not necessarily that we do pleasant work, or even safe work, but that we do the will of our Father in heaven. If our primary concern as a church is to preserve our organization, then we are dead already. And if we are doing the will of our Father, it's probably going to turn some people away.

Could we do better? Absolutely. The sight of a homeless man sitting at our church door begging, day after year, seems ominously prophetic in its symbolism. Should we be opening our homes to these people? Probably. Not that I have any room to talk. But letting people sleep under our porch is one small concession we can make toward having a ministry of hospitality. It's one step closer to having the poor "among us" in a real sense. In short, it's one tiptoe closer to doing the will of the Father.

And because of that, I get to say something unpopular. If I were the one to choose between one more white middle-class family and the poor, smelly drunk at the door, I pick the smelly drunk. There are any number of places that will happily show the love of Christ to a family of nice people with advanced degrees and well-behaved children. But this church has a duty to love its neighbors, which means also to the people who sleep, literally, next-door. And the call of this church should be not to comfort but to a discipleship that gets its hands dirty, to a way of living and loving and serving that will ultimately cost us all we have- including our sense of security and comfort.

♫ You say goodbye... and I say hello ♫

2007-08-15T21:52:00.000-05:00

I was getting nervous. Application after application went in, and no prospective employers called back. I think I was failing their automated exams, which I am convinced are illegally discriminatory. But railing against the automated application process wasn't getting me any work either.

I was learning what it meant to pray "Give us this day our daily bread". I was scared.

Last week, I sold my most precious yarn, giving me enough to buy a decent load of groceries for that week. I told myself it was a good thing, really; I was learning to let go of material things. Store not up for yourselves treasures on earth and all that.

This week was harder; I sold a shelf-full of my books. Books I love. I gave them one last caress before handing them over to the used book dealer, who cared for them not at all. 22 books turned into $15. I tried very hard not to cry, and succeeded- barely. I still believed God would provide what I needed, but I suspected the Almighty and I were disagreeing on just what constituted need.

I got home, dejected but with money enough to eat. And I looked at the phone. I had a message.

This morning I was selling bits of my soul. This afternoon I had a full-time job. Tomorrow, I'm going back to work.

I say, old chaps, this is a lovely picnic spot, wot wot? We ought to call it Jehovah-jireh. The Lord will provide, you know... eventually.

Nothing new under the sun

2007-08-08T11:55:00.000-05:00

On the knitting front:

I found the lost dpn.
My size F crochet hook is MIA.
I finished up that pink shawl from months ago.
The cursed Christmas afghan yarn is rapidly turning into a log cabin afghan.
I am avoiding weigh-in because yarn is scattered all over the house.

Knitting does not occupy my mind as much as the state of my church right now, though. I know full well that the Living the Questions handout does not represent the actual views of more than, say, 15% of my local congregation, but what I read is still terrifying.

Take this snarky little statement:

And yet many Christians today make it proof of their faith and a litmus test of their relationship with God that they embrace thousand-tear-old religious ideas- and are proud of it.

The handouts for this series have been abominable at best, but this last one really takes the cake. It's seven pages portraying believers- the kind who think that maybe orthodoxy isn't a bad word- as stupid legalists afraid to think and afraid to lose the religion of their childhood. The growth in conservative churches and the death of liberal mainlines is explained by saying "people are desperately looking for just one place in this crazy life where things don't change". If you're not on board with the progressive Christian- or progressively less Christian- agenda, then you're a dead church that teaches stale rules and makes people shut their brains off in church- and you're so stupid, you like it.

Have the authors of this thing ever stepped inside an actual conservative church? Where on earth are they getting their facts? The model of churches they set up looks like this:

Type 1: Church of the Evil Conservative Nuns with Rulers

God hates you.
Stop thinking and follow the rules.
The Bible is the fourth person of the Quiddity.
God never meant for you to be nice to people.
So scared of change we're theological LARPers.

Type 2: Church of the Smart People who Love People

God is love, love, love and never gets mad, except at conservatives.
Rules, schmules. Our only rule is... all that social justice stuff from the Old Testament.
The Bible is a book written by ancient, stupid people.
The only thing God cares about is that you try to do good.
The only thing we fear is old stuff.

This is madness. We started the series by jettisoning the Bible, because no thinking person could ever believe that. Then we jettisoned everything else that looked vaguely orthodox, because no thinking person could ever believe that. And what have we ended up with? The sort of Pelagianism that no thinking person should believe. The earth's orbit must be bit wobbly, because I believe the Reformers, that brainy bunch, must be spinning madly in their graves.

How can these "progressives" miss that all they have is a kinder, squishier legalism? Nothing new under the sun, I guess.

Senseless Saturday

2007-08-04T13:02:00.000-05:00

From BBC Sport:

England's experimental team ran up a record score against Wales as they put a second-string Principality side to the sword at Twickenham on Saturday.

...

Fly-half Jonny Wilkinson, who looked sharp throughout, kicked 18 points as a dominant display by England's massive pack gave him an armchair ride in temperatures of 30C in London.

...

Wales infringed in desperation and England kicked the penalty into the corner before a machine-tooled catch and drive from the line-out saw Easter - like Perry looking much fitter - power over once again.

This time Wilkinson converted and with Wales looking under increasing pressure up front a big score was already on the cards.

The hosts collected a third try before half-time when the England pack once again put the Welsh on the back foot and a hot-stepping Wilkinson set up a beach head from which Borthwick plunged over.

I read things like this and think, We really don't speak the same language, do we? I mean, what's this about an armchair ride? Isn't 30C a bit hot to be carried about in an La-Z-Boy? There are all these words that I recognized- "romp", "fly", "massive", "beach", "machine-tooled",- but I can't put them together into anything that makes sense. The reporter might just have well written about his colorless green dreams sleeping furiously, for all the sense I can make of it.

No wonder rugby hasn't made it big on this side of the pond. Nobody can understand what the commentators are talking about.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to find a metal detector. Somewhere between casting off one sock and casting on for another, I lost a dpn, and I'm down to three. I really like the first sock, and I need that needle to make the second one. Wish me luck.

It's poison, I tell you.

2007-07-30T21:46:00.000-05:00

I have decided that politics is bad for me. Really bad.

I read the news that the chief justice of the US Supreme Court had a seizure, and my first reaction was, Maybe he'll have some horrible disease and have to step down.

I am ashamed. I am a terrible person. Politics has somehow sucked away the last trace of my humanity.

Besides, at this point Bush would just replace him with another sycophant who eats civil rights with his Cheerios in the morning.

Terrible. I am a terrible, terrible, terrible person. How did I turn into this?

How to mop a floor.

2007-07-20T13:51:00.001-05:00

1. Run out of dishwasher detergent.
2. Substitute a small amount of regular liquid dish soap.
3. Use a dishwasher that randomly develops leaks every three months or so.
4. Have my luck, courtesy of our friend Murphy.
5. Use a mop to clean up the results.
6. Admire the nice, sparkly floor.

Tonight is the night for Harry Potter! Old Voldyface is going down. And both Harry and Dumbledore are coming out the other side alive. That is what I choose to believe. (But I think we'll either be saying farewell to Ron or Neville- and please, if there is any good left in the universe, let it be Neville. And not, like, Professor McGonagall or something.)

The celebration in my hometown starts in three hours! And to celebrate... a little poetry from Shakespeare and the Doctor...

Foul Carrionite spectors, cease your show
between the points 761 390!
Banish light and tinker’s cuss, I say to thee…
EXPELLIARMUS!

See you when I've finished the book, and finished crying.

Wanted: one clue-by-four

2007-07-19T17:56:00.000-05:00

Here's a conversation I don't want to have again.

Me: "I need to schedule an appointment."
Doc: "Leave me a voicemail and I'll call you back."
Me: "I don't have a phone where you can call me back."
Doc: "I need a phone number where I can contact you."
Me: "...I wish I had one. Still can't help you."

Two days later...

Me: "I need to schedule an appointment with Doc."
Receptionist: "You need to leave a voicemail."
Me: "I can leave a voicemail, but Doc won't be able to call me back."
Receptionist: "Try us again in two hours."

Two hours later...

Receptionist: "Doc left me some possible appointment times."
Me: "I'll take the one that's not before dawn."
Receptionist: "Great. I'll let Doc know. I'll call you if there's a problem."
Me: "O...kay?"

One week later...

Receptionist: "There was a problem and we couldn't reach you. You need to reschedule."
Me: "How will we do that?"
Receptionist: "Leave Doc a voicemail, and you'll get a call back."
Me: "..."
Receptionist: "...Oh."
Me: "Can Doc send me an email?"
Receptionist: "Oh, no, the doctors can't do that. Privacy blah blah blah."
Me: "Well, how else is this going to work?"
Receptionist: "I... don't know. I guess I can take your email."

Two days later...

Doc (email): "I don't usually do email. Call my office for an appointment. I really need a contact number for you."
Me: "...Would you like to buy me a phone?"

Hymn in three parts

2007-07-16T20:05:00.000-05:00

Part One: Reduce

It was the day for getting rid of things. I was ruthless. I was getting rid of t-shirts not just because they didn't fit or had holes but just because I do not need ten t-shirts. I don't.

I took out two garbage bags of clothes. I didn't even stop to count the things inside, because getting rid of a number was not the goal any more. (Plus I was afraid that in the process of counting I would rethink some of my purges.) The goal was not getting rid of things; it was just to have what I need, and no more.

I took the piles of clothes out, and when I was done, I walked in to my closet and sighed, "Thank God for the things I do not have!" And I meant it with all my heart.

Thank God that the poor will have their clothes back. Thank God that my mind is free from the deadly attachment I had to those souvenir shirts. Thank God that I am, for a moment, sure of myself without the support of my things.

Part Two: Reuse

What's a financially strapped would-be spinner to do? It hardly seemed like the right time for me to start up a new, potentially expensive hobby. I did not have a spinning wheel, a drop spindle, or even the correct supplies to make a drop spindle out of an old CD. More significantly, I did not have any fiber to spin.

Which is when I remembered the cheap little pillow, whose stuffing was trickling out of several growing holes.

When I want to do something, I do it. I don't let a little thing like being broke stop me.

Spindle? Leftover piece of dowel rod, plastic lid from a tub of oats, old CD, super glue. Fiber? Polyester stuffing- impossible to comb, incredibly short draw, dingy white. It's like spinning rainclouds. (And if I could do that, by the way, I'd have plenty of fiber, and those clouds would do more good than they are sitting in the sky pretending to think about raining.)

The results could charitably be described as slubby. Actually, they could charitably be described as yarn. But it's something. At least I'm not ruining good fiber on my first sad attempts. If I can spin this, I can spin anything. (My own hair is next on the list. From short draw to loooooong draw in one fell swoop. I promise, no one will get my knitted hair as a present.)

Part Three: Rethink

I hate patriotic "hymns". Hearing them in church makes me want to vomit spectacularly, all over the "hymn"-writer's shoes. I heard this week (maybe from Bruce Ware) that there are four major world religions: Christianity, Judaism, Islam, and Americanism. I concur, with tears.

But then I discovered a hymn in our old Cold War-era hymnal that made me rethink the "patriotic" hymn, from a guy who must have known the best and the worst of this country.

Thou Judge by whom each empire fell,
When pride of power o'ercame it,
Convict us now, if we rebel,
Our nation judge, and shame it.
In each sharp crisis, Lord, appear,
Forgive, and show our duty clear:
To serve thee by repentance.

Search, Lord, our spirits in thy sight,
In best and worst reveal us;
Shed on our souls a blaze of light,
And judge, that thou may'st heal us.
The present be our judgement day,
When all our lack thou dost survey:
Show us ourselves and save us.

Lo, fearing nought we come to thee,
Though by our fault confounded;
Though selfish, mean, and base we be,
Thy justice is unbounded:
So large, it nought but love requires,
And, judging, pardons, frees, inspires.
Deliver us from evil!

-Percy Dearmer, 1867-1936

Silence great and small

2007-07-14T19:34:00.000-05:00

I saw the film Into Great Silence back when it was in town- what, a few months ago? The experience was nothing I'd ever experienced before, but I never was able to process it into anything I could share. Fortunately, Ponder Anew has a response that could just as well be mine.

Sound and silence move me in powerful ways. My brain responds to them. I need both in my life. But silence is incredibly difficult to come by, and when I finally find it, it's initially painful. The detox process for the sound addict is very, very uncomfortable.

It happens too often: I bombard myself with input. I start to get used to having music playing in the background, having the TV on when I do other things, listening to my books on tape instead of reading them. I get used to talking and talking, and listening to other people talk, and listening to many people talk very fast and all at once, and eventually my brain just wears out.

It's a crash. I have taken in so much and have processed so little of it that my brain simply runs out of memory. It refuses to take any more. I can only hear so much before I just can't hear any more.

Seeing Into Great Silence was like the first few days of being sober (I gather). For a few moments, the silence is nice. Then it's excruciating. It's not just the lack of sound but the visual silence, too: the review has it right when it says it's like watching a still life. A few minutes in, watching a statuesque monk at his prayers, and I started to get fidgety. Then I started to feel desperate. The temptation to move, to make some sound just to avoid being left with that awful, deafening silence, was overwhelming.

And then it got easier to bear, and easier, and eventually it even became refreshing. I even started to envy the monks, whose way of life gives them the liberty of not having to speak. Frankly, I'm still envious at times- when I'm interrupted at prayer, or when I know the only words I have are unkind, or when I'm just too overloaded to speak. There are so many times when I am socially obligated to make noise, when it would be better for me to let there be silence.

This is such a challenge for me, to allow myself some silence. It feels unproductive, awkward, inefficient. But it also, when I am in the midst of it, feels so fully human that it seems cruel to break it. How can I reclaim that freedom to be still, in the face of a supercharged, fast-moving world?

Well, whaddaya know?

2007-07-13T18:28:00.001-05:00

The Ubiquitous Brown Plaid does have a name.

Now I can sleep at night.

Uh-oh.

2007-07-13T17:41:00.000-05:00

Yarn Harlot!

I have a bone to pick with you.

A few days ago, on your blog, you shamelessly posted an image of the Baby Surprise Jacket, without giving any thought to how this might affect the welfare or safety of others.

My human, being equally thoughtless, made a brave attempt to knit the aforementioned jacket from the picture, without a pattern. While her efforts were admirable, and for a while there it actually looked like the finished product might fit a human infant, the end results were not pretty.

Not pretty at all.

Ms. Harlot, I am holding you responsible for my pain and suffering. Maybe next time you'll think before you post tempting, patternless garments on the internet.

Amusing the muse

2007-07-10T17:48:00.000-05:00

You hear that?

That endless noise like cosmic giggles?

That's the knitting muse, laughing her head off as I knit the first row of a 250-stitch-wide afghan, only to realize I started knitting with the cast-on tail. Try to ignore the noise; she's probably going to be cackling for a while.

The Harry Potter House "Sweater" needs two more things:

A left armhole and a really good blocking. I promise, that picture is not distorted; it really is that wide. I also promise that I am definitely not that wide.

It turns out I didn't have anywhere near enough yarn to put sleeves on this thing. Turns out, I have just enough yarn to finish that armhole. Fortunately the pattern was written with unbelievably huge amounts of ease, so I'll be blocking that dubba-wide vest thing into something with recognizably human proportions. That's tonight's project: tomorrow, the show!

Speaking of things in odd shapes, would you believe that this...

...is a hat?

It's a pattern I'm test driving for the fiber arts ministry I'm hoping will get going in August. The pattern will come with beginner's kits:

... so that total newbies won't have to suffer through the misery of a garter stitch scarf. Unless they knit the largest size hat, which is roughly equivalent. Instead, they'll have something hat-like and not rectangular at the end, which is definitely more interesting than a scarf. That's the theory, anyway. I'm still, er, fine-tuning the pattern.

Meanwhile, on the Dark Side: the Death Star strikes again.

The one blanket just wasn't enough, so I pulled out all my [s]crap yarn and... ended up with another WIP that looks like a [s]crap yarn blanket. At least it's not bland.

And, as though I didn't already have way, way too many WIPs, the Silky Wool got Hooked.

I'm not even going to tell you what it is yet. Look at that. Look how lovely it is. I don't think you could make a bad project with that yarn. You could knit up a trash can cozy or crochet the world's strangest toilet lid cover, and the Silky Wool would be like, oh, I'm so glamorous in an understated and elegant way, I totally transform any tacky purpose you put me to into something noble and glorious.

Revere the wool. Pray that it never turns its powers against you.

Musings: Hospitality, Generosity, Opportunity

2007-07-09T19:22:00.000-05:00

(With any luck, tomorrow will be the day for knitting pictures- possibly including one of the HP movie ensemble. Fake grafting of the House "Sweater" shoulders is in progress; neckline and armhole ribbing is scheduled for completion tomorrow, followed by a very long session of weaving in ends. If I have any strength left after that, you'll see pictures.)

For the first time in my life, I think, I have hit what I could fairly call "hard times". The past few months have taken their toll, and I sit at the end of them tired, sick, broke, and now without income. It's not a particularly pleasant place to be. These circumstances have, however, given me just the right amount of time for reflection.

I knew it would be best if I stayed in the same town while my medical issues sorted themselves out. This meant putting off my dreams of grad school or, alternatively, a short-term mission placement. My life was put on hold while my survival took center stage. I was disappointed. But finally, after months and months of tough times, God delivered his whack of the clue-by-four.

I'm starting to realize that having to give up my plans is not a setback: God's timing is best. It is an opportunity. I believe I have work left to do where I am, both for myself and for my community. What exactly that work is, I can't say. I'm still waiting for the Cruise Director to hand out the itinerary, if you catch my drift. But I am learning to trust and wait. It's not an easy lesson.

Meanwhile, I'm struggling to figure out how exactly one serves God while dirt poor. Maybe the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil, but the lack of money sure makes it hard to serve God the way I want to. How can I show hospitality to people when I can't spare a can of condensed soup to feed them? How can I put in my two pennies in the offering plate when it's all I have to live on? How can I be generous when I owe people money and I could run out of food next week?

But in my good moments, I find joy again. When I'm at my best, rather than panicking about how to get things, I'm weeding things out of my life that aren't necessary. Extra blankets. Extra clothes. That second coat in my closet that belongs to the person who's shivering in the cold. (Well, not shivering today, maybe.) In some ways, this lean time is a blessing. I feel less cluttered; my purpose is in clearer focus. Not to sound too proud about it, because I'm only making meager beginnings, but I'm learning to throw away everything that separates me from Christ.

It's a fast of sorts, and I'm grateful for it. I have never been poor before, and though I'm not anywhere near real poverty yet, I feel like a layer of scales has fallen off my eyes. I'm just not quite sure what I'm looking at yet.

I do not fear change.

2007-07-04T14:50:00.000-05:00

In fact, I embrace it to the point of undertaking it just for the heck of it. (It's the furniture-rearranging gene that was passed down from my grandmother.)

Today's significant changes are two in number and bloggy in nature. The big one first: I'm consolidating my blogs into one big blog. The old pages will stay up, but I won't be posting there any more. That means that this page will be Me HQ.

This move is totally contrary to my usual behavior, so I fully expect myself to feel a little wrong-footed when it comes to what goes in the blog. Enjoy the ride with me.

The second is that I am instituting a monthly Yarn Weigh-in, to occur at the end of each month. Mainly I've decided to do it this way because keeping a running total was slowing down my creative process (read: making me think before I cast on yet another WIP). I figure a yarn diet is like every other diet: you don't stand on the scale until you see the number you want. You try to do things that are better for you and check in at the scale periodically to see how it's going. Besides, it's way harder to keep track of every scrap of yarn I touch than it is to do a half-hour monthly inventory.

What am I working on now? Well, after the Bridal Shawl I discovered that working on a deadline, with daily goals, really helps me get moving. And since I already had a deadline in place- July 11- I did the math and realized that that leaves me ten days to finish my House sweater.

Ten days is not a whole lot of time.

I started setting daily goals, because if I left it with just a deadline, I'd be hating my needles and cursing my yarn at 11 pm on July 10. The daily goals are pretty steep, though. For instance, at the end, I set a goal to knit a sleeve each day.

Haha. Yeah, right.

Fortunately, I've left myself an escape clause. This is as much because of my knitting speed as because I think I'm going to run out of yarn, and because it's hot in July. This House sweater may end up being a House vest. I'll do ribbing instead of sleeves and call the thing good.

Giving myself a day or two to recover, I'll have another week to finish off some Quidditch socks to complete my book release ensemble for the party on July 21. I hope no one will blame me if after this, I refuse to ever knit anything again.

But the outfit will be awesome.

Deviant

2007-07-01T08:40:00.000-05:00

First things first: I finished the gift knit, a shawl for Checkers' bridal shower.

I am enormously proud of this thing. I designed it all by me onesies. The yarn is Rowan Cashcotton (YUM!), and you see the cast off? That's a long chain crochet cast off. That's right, the c-word. I was a little nervous about this initially, but once I got going it was sort of addicting.

So I moved on to my first real crochet. (gasp! shock! horror!)

I started an afghan in single crochet, after which I realized that this was not all that much faster than knitting, and after all, the prime advantage of crochet was supposed to be speed. I frogged that, and then I remembered the first book my aunt had given me when attempting to trick me into crocheting: granny square afghans.

Feel the granny square love. I've started assembling them now, because the idea of sewing a hundred thousand granny squares together at once makes me woozy. There's no real pattern; I'm just putting them together in big blocks, and I'll organize them later.

Meanwhile, earthchick passed on some really fat baby yarn that had gotten passed on to her. I knew immediately what this had to be, so I pulled out my N-hook, and roughly 5 hours later:

It's Beth's star-shaped baby afghan, and my first crochet FO. Am I proud? Enormously.

I never thought I would learn to crochet. It's been six years since I first started trying to crochet, off and on, and I was sure I would never get beyond rectangles. Now I'm churning out crochet things like I've heard they're discontinuing Red Heart Super Saver (and why are all the crochet patterns I have written for that sad excuse for yarn?). It's addicting. It's crack for knitters.

There's just one major crochet drawback: When I went back to knitting, I started wrapping the yarn backward.

As they say in the Vaterland...

2007-06-20T14:13:00.000-05:00

Ich bin dran. The lovely earthchic(k), originatress of the Seven Things project, has tagged me. The meme? 7 random things about me. I don't think this is coincidence, do you?

1. I was a conlanger in my youth. I made up languages- words, grammar, alphabets. Now I just make up alphabets and study conlangs that other people make up. This leads to the world's most awesome penpal arrangements. (!Shorah brehgeltahnteeokh D'ni)

2. I am considering consolidating all my blogs into this one.

3. I use the Dvorak keyboard layout, which is easier on my wrists (and therefore allows me more comfortable knitting time). However, people no longer like to share computers with me, since I have a habit of forgetting to switch the keyboard back, leaving the next unlucky person to wonder why the keyboard is typing gibberish.

4. I only eat cucumbers with feta cheese. I cannot stand either one of those foods separate from the other. This is a leftover from my trip to Greece, where the one food we could count on having at every single meal was a "salad" of cucumbers, feta, and tomatoes. And I don't like tomatoes.

5. This did not stop me from growing tomatoes last year on the patio last year.

6. My favorite prime number is 17, which totally pwns 23. 7 is my least favorite prime number, because I feel it gets overused. 5 doesn't get enough attention as a prime number, and 3 is too obvious; 2, on the the other hand, is too showy. I mean, isn't it enough of a distinction to be a prime number without having to be an even number, too?

7. Far, far back in the recesses of my childhood lies the beginning of a recurring dream, in which I find levels and levels of extra rooms under the church I grew up in. There are all sorts of odd statues, artifacts, sculptures, and parents of Sunday school classmates with the bodies of giant tarantulas. Going downstairs is more interesting, but after having this dream for about ten years, I finally discovered that if you climb up through the attics, you'll come out on a mountaintop where there's awesome snowboarding.

I, as usual, will decline to tag anyone.

Detailed knitting updates will have to wait for the weekend, but suffice it to say I'm on a manic knitting streak and I'm wearing my arms out trying to finish up a gift. You'll get to see it once the recipient has seen it first.

I'm going to my first SnB tonight- wish me luck!

Infodump!

2007-06-13T18:01:00.000-05:00

I moved the yarn pile from the living room into my bedroom today. (Apologies to PSD, who was probably having a quiet moment in his office while I was doing this upstairs. I didn't keep dropping things intentionally, I promise.) As I relocated, I also took a detailed count of what was in the pile, and I came up with:

19 works in progress
179 balls, hanks, skeins, and blobs of yarn

Not as bad as I feared. It helped that there is no longer a frog pond: I threw all that stuff away. Thrift, shmift. Ripping out old sweaters is a pain, and for cheap cotton, it's totally not worth it.

Instead, I am now reveling in my pile of indulgence yarn, and hoping I can make it last a while. Here, friends, is where those forty yarn blobs were added:

Merino Sei. This almost doesn't count, since it was marked down from $8 to $3 per ball. I wouldn't feel guilty about it, except that I pounced on the opportunity and bought enough for two sweaters. I did not know that fate led me to just the right colors for this:

My Harry Potter House sweater. I am in a little bit of denial about the color of the stripe; I'm telling myself it's blue and not purple and that it really is in Ravenclaw colors (blue and bronze), so play along, okay? I am so looking forward to wearing this in the middle of July, when the Peony and I are going to our Hometown, which will be turned into Hogwarts Central for the night. I have already started praying that the man in a kilt and a poncho will show up. (Go read Book 4 again and come back when you get it.)

Moving forward. This...

...is the reason it's a bad idea to talk to me about how much yarn I buy. This was a revenge purchase. 19 hanks of fairly nice cotton. It's not much to look at now, but... well, I'm making up the sweater as I go, so it may not be much to look at ever. Just don't tell that to the evil person who hounded me about my yarn investments. (He, of course, has been spending my annual yarn budget on woodworking tools.)

In moments of happiness and sale-price hypnotism, there was also this:

(Sierra and Silky Wool)

...and this...

...the A-squared sweater, so named for the angora and alpaca yarn it's made from. This sweater is partially knit from the stash; the angora was a birthday present from the Peony. The alpaca, on the other hand, was a problem. If her book had come out sooner, I might have heeded the Harlot's advice: don't stand by the counter too long. 600 glorious yards of undyed superfine alpaca? Of course I had to get two colors. It's doubled up in the sweater to match the worsted-weight angora.

I do have exactly one guilt-free item, knit entirely from the stash:

The Mermaid sock. It's one of Lucy Neatby's patterns in Cool Socks, Warm Feet, and I love it. I changed the heel and the toe, of course, because I can't follow a pattern to save my life. But I really like the way the pattern works with the stripes. At the hospital, though, they apparently thought it was dangerous:

...because it came back to me in a biohazard bag. Maybe the size 0 needles scared them.

Now, gentle reader, I am off to eat dinner. And after that, I'm going to pick up a project from my pile. Between all the sweaters, afghans, socks, and stuffed animals on my WIP list, I suppose I shouldn't have any trouble finding something interesting to knit- in theory.

Battles and wars

2007-06-12T20:42:00.000-05:00

Some of you may have noticed that it's been several weeks since I posted anything on any of my blogs. I am glad to report that I am making my way, slowly but surely, out of the blog silence. With any luck, my life will decide to be less absolutely maddeningly crazy, making it possible for me to become acquainted with the internet again.

What have I been doing in the meantime? Well... falling off the stash wagon. In a big way. I didn't even make it all the way through Lent. There are times in life, I feel, that require comfort yarn no matter what previous resolutions one might have made, and I hit several of those times. I think, though, that my LYSs (both of them) are partly to blame: they have been putting things on sale especially to tempt me. I mean, Malabrigo and Koigu PPPM at 50% off? How am I supposed to resist that?

While the stash wagon was rolling off into the sunset, the WIP wagon was not far behind it. I've been on something of a sweater kick lately, and I've been starting one with pretty much every new yarn purchase. Alas, I have not been in the mood to finish things, so I have- wait, let me count- four sweaters on the needles (I think it's just four, I could be wrong) and still no more actual wearable sweaters than I had a year ago. But boy, knitting sweaters sure is fun!

However! I am not giving up! I'll be relocating the yarn swamp soon (from the living room to my room, since roomie has moved on), and when I do, I will update the yarn stats on the sidebar. Try not to look to shocked when I do. I think my yarn weight now exceeds my body weight, which is a strong statement coming from the woman who's eaten Cocoa Crispies for dinner for the past week. I'll be chasing the wagon down and hopping back on it, whether the other yarnoholics want me on board or not. And when I do, I'll flash my stash again and give a tour of my WIP pile, including such items as:

A sweater or two- or three- or more
Various half-hearted attempts at stashbusting
More Ann and Kay-inspired thriftiness
Evidence of total lack of thriftiness
...and some items that will come in handy on July 11

Stay tuned. You won't want to miss it. (Well, I don't want you to miss it, so come back anyway.)

♫ Busy, busy, dreadfully busy... ♫

2007-03-04T22:45:00.000-05:00

Once I actually started hauling out the knitting I've done since my last update, I was kind of surprised. I've been busy, all right. Just not on a single project. Knitting infidelity is just in my nature.

But first, the outcome of that luverly sunshiny yarn.

I'm calling it the Sunshine Shawl of Absolutely No Subtlety, because- well, I suppose you can see why! It started with the choice to use short row shaping to make something roundish (inspired by Knitty's Bloom shawl pattern), which made the stripes run longways like rays of sunshine. By the time I got to the end of the body section, I had plenty of yarn left over, so I figured I'd drive the imagery home with a sledgehammer and add a pointy edging.

It was good to get it out of my system. And boy, did it make me happy while I was knitting it. It still needs blocking, but I'm reasonably pleased with it as a quick, soothing knit in the middle of a long winter.

After that- at least, I think it was after that- I started two other projects, both from the stash.

The dishcloth is part of a stack of dishcloths I'm making, six years too late. See, when my grandma taught me to knit, she bought me some sparkly Sugar and Cream and a book of dishcloth patterns, on the condition that I knit her some dishcloths. I intended to, but the first patterns I tried were too hard and came out looking like the incarnation of suck. I proceeded to mostly forget about my promise until recently, when I started making dishcloths for Da House. I put as many handknit dishcloths in the kitchen as I thought were reasonable, which was only a few more than fit in the drawer, but my appetite for dishcloth knitting was not sated. Which was when I remembered my Ancient Promise to Nana. I hope this will help me kill off the unending cone of Sugar and Cream that's haunting my yarn shelves.

The sock is made from souvenir yarn; I made a very amateur hat for The Peony with it for Christmas a few years ago (which she graciously treasured, even though I made it exactly not to her specifications). It was also my first experience with yarn that came in a hank, which meant mostly that I sat on my bed for hours trying to untangle this messy new kind of skein I had discovered. Not a pleasant experience. The sock, thankfully, is only a little bit enormous on my foot, instead of the usual circulation-obstructing tight socks I usually make. I figure it's wool, so I can adjust it somehow, right? Right?

Okay. Brief pause for a less enthusiastic moment. I loved Eunny Jang's twisted I-cord bind-off, and I had planned to make a really awesome tank out of it. But! I had next to no idea about sweater construction when I planned this. Plus, the yarn is recycled cotton from a thrift store sweater, and the way the plies are, it's basically like knitting with three strands of crappy string held together. Say goodbye, sweater.

Because you, and your accompanying yarn, are hitting the trash can. How's that for stash and WIP reduction?

(Someone please remind me to pull out my needles before I set the trash can on fire.)

And now, as promised...

It's the How Many FOs Will This Skein Make? Show!

The goal is pretty simple. I take one skein of yarn and make a lot of little things out of it. The more, the better. Theoretically, all the same. If you have frequent second sock episodes or can't stand knitting in garter stitch, well, this is probably not the game for you, but you're welcome to watch. (But if you must faint, please do it outside; I just "organized" the stash, and anywhere you fall you're likely to disarrange hours of difficult yarn wrangling.)

For my hopefully-not-too-monotonous one-skein kniting premiere...

It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, Mitten-Making Marathon!

The mittens are roughly baby-sized and thumbless. I'm making them from Lorri's pattern. The yarn is a supersoft acrylic from my other grandma, who had it lying around somewhere. (I appreciate all gifts of yarn, so I try not to ask too many questions.) The yarn is very very very plain white, so I'm thinking I'll make a big batch of mittens, then use yarn scraps to embroider something small and cute and mitten-y on the backs. The finished mitts will be going to KnitWits, because what I could I do with a massive pile of baby mittens? I made two pairs this afternoon (each mitten takes me about an hour right now) and I'm not even bored with the pattern yet.

And did you know those plastic zippered things that bedsheets come in are perfect for storing knitting? Seriously. Actual zippers, and no way are the needles poking through that plastic. It's a little ghetto, but I'd rather spend the money on yarn. (Except that, like the rest of the high-church knitting world, I gave up buying yarn for Lent. Rats.)

Coming attractions!

2007-03-03T20:53:00.000-05:00

Just popping in to say that I spent my spring break sleeping till after noon, watching TV, and doing a little knitting. I'll catch y'all up on the progress tomorrow, but here are the previews:

The FO from the Yarn of Sunshiny Happiness
The new WIP, which is actually from the stash, I swear
Episode 1 of the How Many FOs Will This Skein Make Show!
...and I will finally do the Unthinkable and take Desperate Measures

Stay tuned. It should be good.

Lead us not into temptation

2007-02-13T20:15:00.001-05:00

So... the stash grew.

The first purchase was intentional. I've been longing to knit a sweater for a while now, and when I got my tax return, I knew just what it wanted to become: the Stacy Pullover from Big Girl Knits.

Look at the yummy stitch pattern! (The color is digitally unenhanced- I couldn't figure out a way to keep the color and the stitch definition. :/) I'm very excited for this sweater, since I don't have many sweaters.

(The best reaction came from my roommate, who, as I was describing BGK's totally awesome approach to plus-size knitting, gave me a horrified look and said, "But you're not a plus size!" Oh yes I am, darling, and I'm not ashamed, either. I like my curves; I like feeling like I have substance. Not to mention I actually get to enjoy food this way.)

I flew into this sweater, doing the fastest knitting I think I've ever done. I got the yarn on Thursday, and yesterday the sweater looked like this:

The armhole shaping seems to defy my ability to count, but I started on the sleeve so that I could have something relatively mindless to work on during class. I really want to wear this sweater before it gets too warm. (Which, the way the weather is going, means I've got at least three months to finish it.)

That was the planned purchase. And then... today happened.

I walked into the yarn store with the intention of getting some of the sale sock yarn I had seen when I got the sweater. The sock yarn bin was gone, so I skimmed through the other things, thinking maybe I would see a skein of something really interesting. I wandered past some ribbon and some silk, and then.

Then.

From across the store: a sunshiny yellow.

I sprinted over to it, the happiest color of yarn I have ever seen in my life. In the middle of a blizzard, I needed some sunshine. I picked it up and fondled it a little bit. I tell you, I could feel the sunshine oozing out of the fiber. I was in a trance. I picked it up and took it home and made it my pet.

...along with several of its brothers and sisters.

It's a good thing I only had cash on me, because if I had had plastic, I would have gotten the other five balls. (Hey, it was clearance yarn- $4 a ball! How could I resist that?) It's a good thing the roads are snowy and awful, or I might have gone back to get the rest of them. I've never experienced a yarn like this before- I didn't even stop to think, just picked up all the yarn I could afford and took it to the counter. No second thoughts. No project in mind. Just absolute bliss in my fibery trance.

Now what will I do with 800 yards of sunshiny yellow yarn?

Maybe I'll just fondle it for a while.

Emergency winter knitting

2007-02-05T22:19:00.000-05:00

It is absolutely freezing cold here, so cold that the local TV stations are running school closings at the botton of the screen, and I haven't seen them repeat in more than ten minutes. Every sensible school has called things off, since there's been a wind chill advisory, you can get frostbite in minutes, and nobody wants students out walking in that kind of weather- except our lovely university. Since I was out walking in the -20 and more wind chill today, and I didn't have a hat or a scarf, I needed to crank out some FO's, very fast.

Look, an FO!

I finished this guy last night, so it was ready to wear today, and I managed not to lose my ears to frostbite. It's a double-knit hat in what my semantics prof calls "patriotic" colors. Nice and thick, and...

Reversible. Isn't double knitting great? That folded-up part is the best, because it makes the fabric quadruple thick over my ears and forehead, where I need it most.

Next up: the dishcloth. This is so boring there's no point in taking pictures of it. It's just a super thick garter stitch washcloth, made as a hint for a housemate and said housemate's egg-coated frying pan. I finished it to be able to say I had finished something, and together with the acquisition of my soon-to-be job and the completion of last semester's coursework- finally- I had an excuse to celebrate by buying some yarn for a scarf.

Mmm, Manos. The colorway is mulled wine:

That's what I had on Friday, and today I had this:

Leftovers on the head of the Yarn Guardian.

No, really, the spider is the Yarn Guardian. He was a gift from my friend the Peony in the aftermath of a moth scare. See, his tag proves it:

(Too fuzzy? It says "I am the Yarn Guardian. I eat moths!")

Oh, what else did the Manos turn into? This:

Check out the awesomeness: It's a reversible cabled scarf. I was knitting away during Knitty Gritty on Thursday, when Lily Chin was on, and she uttered the magic words: Reversible cables. I about snapped my neck, I looked up so fast. Cables that look the same on both sides? Who ever heard of such a thing?

I wasn't sure I was going to have enough. I got two hanks, ostensibly of 135 yards each, but when I got done with the first one I had a little less than what I considered to be half a scarf. But either I had invisible gauge changes, or "about 135 yards" isn't a terribly precise measurement, because this is how much difference there was between the two hanks:

That's, like, a foot of knitting. Kind of a big difference. Fortunately, the scarf came out exactly the length I was hoping for, so all in all the Yarn Guardian and I are pleased.

With any luck, all this knitting will help me come through the long walks in the arctic blasts with all my body parts un-frostbitten.

Large, lacy temptation

2007-01-27T12:32:00.000-05:00

Over the summer, I made an impulse purchase at my LYS: four skeins of laceweight alpaca/silk blend, in a lovely dusty rose color. I've been looking for the perfect lace shawl pattern ever since, but lately I've done a lot more searching. I'm telling myself I'm not allowed to cast on any more new projects, because 12 WIPs should be enough for anyone, but naturally, as soon as I made that decision the temptation to cast on for a sweater or a shawl tripled. I really, really want to knit a sweater, but I thought maybe I could subdue the large-project hunger with something large, intricate, and lacy.

I was out searching for patterns when I stopped dead in my tracks. Because, of course, I already have something large and lacy (and, conveniently, pink) on the needles. I'd been neglecting it because of an error I couldn't quite fix with my crochet hook, so it sat abandoned until I could summon the strength to either fix it or live with the mistake. I hauled it out the other day, and here's what it looks like now:

A large pink butterfly in the garden. The yarn is Cascade Sierra, a 80% cotton/20% wool blend. Here's the lace pattern, spread out (indoors this time- 20% wool isn't enough to protect a shawl from January temperatures for very long):

The completed non-trivet wanted in on the glamor shot action.

All this knitting seems not to have had much of an impact on my stash count, however- I have finished off exactly one ball of yarn this week. I've made sizable dents in some others, but I can't change the stash count yet. Maybe with the next non-trivet.

It's a what now?

2007-01-23T18:33:00.000-05:00

My semantics prof has always taken an unusual interest in the stuff I'm knitting. It's not all that unusual for a professor to comment about my knitting, since I knit during my classes, but this particular professor tries to guess the identity of every project I bring to class. (I think he secretly wants to be a knitter.) Today he took a look at this:

and asked if I was making a trivet.

No, I said.

A what? I thought.

It turns out that some people, when they have to put hot dishes on the table, don't use a potholder. They use a trivet. If I were going to make a trivet, I think I would make it out of something thicker than sock yarn, but maybe the squareness of the thing just threw him off.

The non-trivet is, of course, the beginnings of another piece for the Sock Cabin Stashghan. I've been knitting on this almost exclusively since I started it- the log cabin thing is seriously adddictive- and here's what I've got so far:

Modelled by the capable husband. (Is there an official name for this kind of pillow? I get such strange looks when I call it a husband.)

I like the squares by themselves well enough, but I'm not really sure how they're going to look when I put them together. I'm trying to tell myself I don't care, and it's half true, but I do wonder about it from time to time.

When I started this thing, I was afraid I wasn't going to have enough sock yarn in my stash to get to the end of this blanket, especially because I blasted through lots of small bits on the first square. I now admit the total foolishness of this fear. I have not actually finished off a ball of yarn since the inside of the first square, and it occurs to me that this could be an enormous blanket by the time I've used up even a reasonable amount of the sock yarn stash. And the thought of all that blanket that lies ahead of me is enough to send me scrambling for the knitting. Clearly, I have some work ahead of me.

I need to learn to knit faster.

The new obsession

2007-01-18T00:47:00.000-05:00

Puppy wants to do the big reveal of the new WIP; he's pretty excited!

Look! Look!
It's a log cabin from leftover sock yarn!

I do so love log cabin knitting. I don't know why. I know that huge amounts of garter stitch should be painfully boring, but it's not. It's great. No decreases, no purling, no worrying about color changes. You just pick a side, pick up some stitches, and go- no worries, no planning, just yarn and knitting. Very zen.

This is what grew out of that swatch-sized bit from yesterday; I've been knitting on it all day. I have since discovered that I have a burning need to knit more socks, so that their leftovers can be incorporated into the blankie. And those socks should be anklets, so that there's more yarn left over. Actually, I have discovered that I am sorely tempted to forgo the sock part altogether and convert my sock yarn stash into one large light-weight blankie.

And yes, blankie, not blanket. This thing is for me, and I don't care how weird the color combinations are. It's knitting nostalgia. It's souvenir stash in functional form. I remember fondly each project whose leftovers are in this patch. It's comforting knitting, and I fully expect it to grow into a mostly-grown-up comfort blankie.

Not to say that I'm paying no attention at all to how it looks. I'm trying to plan what happens, now that the stripes are so wide, when self-striping yarn gets worked in. I'll probably make several little blocks, like the one I have now, and put them together.

Puppy wants to model the blankie (and give his owner an excuse to take more gratuitous knitting pictures).

Ah, but what are puppy and owner not quite as excited about?

Weaving in ends. Ah. Every knitter's favorite part. If I were smart, I'd start weaving them in now, but what fun would that be? Besides, I just remembered some sock yarn that has failed to turn into socks four times, and I think it's going to have to go into this blankie...

I couldn't stop myself.

2007-01-16T23:10:00.000-05:00

Uh-oh.

Bear, what is that you're holding?

Is that a new WIP?

Doesn't your owner have socks that look like that?

Well, yes. But I finally figured out what I wanted to do with my sock yarn leftovers, and the higher WIP count is totally worth it for the pleasure I get out of this kind of knitting. What is it? It's a secret! (But fans of Ann and Kay can probably figure it out...)

Unfortunate beginnings, and sock ideas

2007-01-15T13:07:00.000-05:00

It's been less than a day, you say. How can things possibly have gone wrong?

Remember those Jaywalkers from yesterday? In a fit of frustration, after noticing a particularly stupid error ten rows back, I frogged them. Attempts to use crochet hooks to fix things several rows back almost always end in disaster for me. Trust me. It was better this way. I wasn't a big fan of the lack of stretchiness in the pattern anyway.

In the end, I successfully resisted the temptation to cast on for another sock immediately, bringing my WIP count down by one, but there's still the problem of that ball of yarn that's still in my stash, and now probably has all kind of bad knitterly mojo all over it.

Now, to be perfectly honest, it is not entirely my fault that I didn't cast on for another pair immediately. No, the fault lies with Dave, whose awesome Basketcase socks are designed to be knit with DK weight yarn. I wasn't entirely confident in my pattern-revising skills (or in my pattern-following skills, for that matter), so I put the yarn back in the drawer. I was, however, inspired to think about some patterns I want to knit.

Episode I: Socks

They warned me, when I started knitting socks, that they were addictive. They were right. I love socks because they're so portable, so easy to shove into a bookbag and take to class. I also love them because the muggles and fledgling knitters sitting around watching me knit always think they're so impressive. Inevitably, I'm stopped by someone who's stunned by my knitterly prowess- new knitters wearing fun fur scarves, 80-year-old men who want to know how you shape a heel, ignorant crocheters who tremble at the thought of wielding five needles at once. I feel terribly smart when I'm knitting socks.

The problem, though, is that they've gotten a little monotonous. I used to be fascinated by the different colors that came out in self-striping and variegated yarns, but apparently I've wised up a little. I've done DPNs and I've done Magic Loop. I've thrown cables down the side. I've done about everything I can think of to make the standard sock recipe more interesting, but in the end, it's still ribbing-flap-gusset-foot-toe, with the brief excitement of turning the heel in the middle. (If I could knit heels by themselves, I would be a happy knitter.)

So here's a list of new things- techniques and patterns- I want to try for socks. Hopefully it will make me more eager to work through my sock yarn collection. (And maybe some of the other stuff- worsted weight socks, anyone?)

Basketcase socks
2-at-once socks (flap heel variation)
Arrrgyles (or Arcrgyle-inspired variation)
Lacy socks of some kind
Baby socks (to eliminate the sock-yarn leftovers)

I'm also keeping a weather eye out for alternate uses for sock yarn leftovers, like knitting stuffed animals (or stuffing stuffed animals, which would take less time, I would think).

Introduction: Meet the Monster

2007-01-14T22:48:00.000-05:00

The problem comes in two parts. The first part: My living space is being slowly but surely consumed by yarn.

There's a sock perched on my bed, ready to strike with its tiny stabby needles...

...Jaywalkers lounging on the little bookcase...

...bags of sock yarn laying around, waiting to trip people...

...and this whole shelf setup- and a scarf waiting on the chair.

I had managed to remain blissfully content with this system, ignoring the fact that I no longer had anywhere to sit or set things down. That is, I was blissfully content until today, when it occurred to me to wonder just how much yarn I really have.

I think in the knitting world this is universally considered a bad thing to wonder. I ignored the feeling of queasiness that came over me and counted. The totals?

146 skeins, balls, hanks, and wads of yarn.
12 works in progress.
9 items in the frog pond.

I had to sit down at this point; I was feeling a little dizzy. Because shortly after coming up with these totals, I realized the other half of my problem: I'm going to be moving this year.

Imagine. 146 skeins, ball, hanks, and wads of yarn, packed into boxes and hauled cross country. Imagine that shelf inside my little car. Imagine trying to get anything else in the car- like clothes, or a toothbrush.

Not a pretty picture.

After I recovered somewhat from the shock, I made a resolution: I am going to knit like crazy to get this stash down to a managable size. Ideally, I'd like to get it down to the point where it fits into one drawer.

There are a few additional guidelines. First is that giving away yarn is a perfectly acceptable stash-reducing strategy. I know full well that I am very, very unlikely to give stash away unknitted, but I need an escape clause for the few yarns in my stash- and there will be a few- that I simply cannot bear to knit with. (And I have a skein of poop brown acrylic in mind as I type this.)

The second guideline is this: It does me no good to knit the whole stash but take all the knitted objects with me. Lots of the knitted stuff will be going away as gifts or donations. Alternatively, if I'm knitting things I need, I will do my best to make sure whatever worn-out thing is being replaced actually goes away.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some knitting to do. Toodle-pip.