*Wolfpup*

Wolves are multiplying.  They've been taken off the endangered species list here in Oregon.  And it's partly my fault.  I added one just this week.  Planning on adding one more soon.  Watch out!

It's knitting season.  I've been bit bad. When I saw this pattern last January, my knitting skills were basic. Knit. Purl. But I bought the pattern and began to teach myself cables.  Even attempted some simple lace patterns.

Then my sister said she wanted a warm hat for her birthday, and the project launched, full-speed. When the baby alpaca yarn arrived in the mail, there was less than a week till birthday day.  No worries.  Wolfpup gestation period is relatively short.  Out it popped and into the mail.

Haven't had so much fun and such happily knitting fingers in a long time.

*"Wolfpup"  a tiny owl knits pattern by Stephan Dosen
available at tinyowlknits.com 

Cast On, Knit Some, Cast Off

Purple nail polish helps round out the art of wearing
a proper cast.

All puns intended,  I have the "cast on" covered.  It's done.  A close friend and fellow knitted wondered after hearing of my slight but impeding wrist incident whether or not I could knit.


 Following the medical folks' suggestion, I decided to rest the general area and not attempt to knit immediately after getting the cast.  But a week or so ago, I grabbed some needles and a "beloved-Karen-now-departed" knitting project.  Found out it certainly could be done.

Lovely pattern on the body.
Sleeve cuff being ribbed.

Karen's years of eager knitting produced an abundance of gorgeous sweaters.  After her passing, some of her friends sorted through her stash of yarn, her knitting projects yet to be completed and the sweaters and parceled them out as generously as possible.  A lovely Icelandic sweater went to a dear friend in Seattle.  Inquiry revealed that she couldn't really wear it since the sleeves were too long.  Making "short work" of the sleeves was my knitting project--the test of whether or not my hand could knit from its place inside the cast.

So cast on, I gave it a whirl.  There is no photo to prove the results, but the Seattle friend reports that she is now enjoying the sweater from the "inside out," that the sleeves work, and that snug cuffs make it a perfect length.

The joy and results of not being "normal"

With the laboratory demonstration complete, it is time.   This Thursday "cast off" will be first of the Things I get to do today.

A Field of Sweaters

The tie of friendship connects our hearts.  It's a real thread that runs through us, a fiber similar to wool.   Friend Karen who loved everyone deeply has left us yearning for her and found us filling in the absence with each other.  What a miracle that we are all now richly committed to holding the wider circle of friends in the same precious aura that she held each of us.

Unmade sweaters gazing and grazing

Driving one more time to Eugene to connect with those same, dear people is one of the Things I get to do today, and I'm basking in the birth of this vigorous season.  The Willamette Valley is filled with fields, many of them dotted with sheep.  Lambs are all over the place.  My wandering mind reviews the reasons for raising sheep: food and fiber.  The wool is friendly, cozy, comforting.  Karen and her knitting come back into focus, and I see now the immense green pasture as a field of sweaters, perhaps made from the fiber of friendship.  And speaking of dear friends, Happy Birthday, Therese.

Finishing

Unfinished and unfinishable sweater 

My friend Karen had only one fault.  She had a terrible time finishing things.  By "things" I mean knitting projects.  Now that she's passed, several of us have sorted through bags of unfinished sweaters, discussed the possible outcomes for each, and stepped up to bring a conclusion and destination to their process.

Rip it out became ribbit out

I took the giant, patchwork, sweater body.  Since there was no extra yarn and no pattern, we figured the knitting was done. Pillows sprang to mind. We'd met an old friend of Karen's from her graduate school days, Bob, at her memorial gathering.  He would, no doubt, cherish work from her hands.  And her two nephews would have the other two pillows.

Pillow for Bob: front side

Sorting, unraveling, blocking and stitching eventually resulted in a 22 x 15" pillow from the back of the sweater.  While my hands were occupied with these Things I get to do today, my mind went about solving a word puzzle I had mentally tucked away on Monday while we friends sorted and talked of memories and of yarn and of knitting.  Asta had said she would "frog" a piece she had knit.

"Frog?" I questioned.

Finished at last: opposite side

"Yes, take it out," she replied.  My mind stopped and did not see the connection.  But today as I released the band from the body of the sweater, I got it. "Rip it"out became "ribbit" out.   And every person from age three on up knows that "ribbit" is what frogs say.  It's finished!

Ten

Rowan Silk and Kid Mohair

It must be an addiction.  Since December my knitting fingers want only the touch of soft silk/mohair yarn. Five scarves slipped off the needles by Christmas.  Then two more.  Plus one for myself.  And then another.  

Grafting the beginning row to the end row
forming a circle scarf

Yes, it's time to admit that I've tried to quit but just found myself starting another before it could be helped.

Pink and Blue exploded out of the center
of the yarn ball.  I had no idea it was there.

So this one will definitely be my last bias-loop scarf (though several very attractive skeins of yarn are buried deep in my stash). The garden had a chat with the scheduler of the Things I get to do today. Knitting season is nearly over. Ten is a good round number and is surely enough.

How Knitting Gets Done

The girls sent out the alarm.  Four hens transfixed, all facing the same direction, cackling in a nervous undertone made me stop mid-chores to look around.  A plump rat lay creamy-bellied up a yard or so away from the chickens.  In broad daylight rats do not sleep in the open on their backs. Dead was what it was. So I scooped the rat into my pail--for less than a second!  With its last ounce of life, it shot back out. A big shovel in hand to scoop up the rat showed how serious I was as I pitched the thing over the hedge.*

Progress in silver sparkles

Then I noticed that what felt like a scratch from the rapid bucket exit was bleeding--a bite--by a sick rat.     My last tetanus shot was 1997. The emergency waiting room is a great place to knit. Got in three rows waiting for the nurse. Knit another four or five while waiting for the doctor. The admissions person allowed me to knit the whole time we were filling in the blanks for the hospital records. I put the knitting away for my drive home. There were several other fun items in my plans for Things I get to do today that were set aside while I had the pleasure of watching this lovely scarf grow.  Sometimes that is just how the knitting gets done.

*The critter was retrieved and bagged for possible inspection by our county vector control office.

And the Clouds Parted

Well, I scratched the sky. Few are able to document in their version of Things I get to do today that the clouds just open up and reveal the most intense blue seen in days and that it happens in a little community called Brightwood as I drive over the mountains to Central Oregon.

But I brought good reading and my knitting just in case.

Secret No More

Green Tea nearly finished

I'm done, and tonight Christmas was finally over.  The last stitch was knit on the last gift scarf.  It's not a secret anymore--I've been knitting scarves since the first part of December.  Six of them.

Knit on the bias, the scarf is grafted together to
form a loop.

The house work suffered.  The chickens were slightly neglected.  The wall/ceiling painting in  my house stopped. My "get to" blog experienced severe lapses of stillness.  Meals were quick or eaten out.  I was knitting. "Mom's on a mission" was the word in the street.

Bliss on the fingers

Bliss for the neck

Shibui makes a extra fine mohair and silk yarn called "Silk Cloud."  I fell in love, bought one each of Raspberry, Blush, Watermelon, Fjord, Camel, and Green Tea to match the women in the family, and after completing the first bias loop scarf, knew some would be coming off the needles well into the new year.  So be it.









Every stitch was a delight; every touch of the yarn a thrill.  I've been in heaven for over 110 hours during the last six weeks while creating these cuddles for the neck.  So tonight I'm wrapping it up as the last of the Things I get to do today and tomorrow my niece who's flying back to school in Belgium in a few days will have her Christmas present.

Camel for my daughter

PS.  I have yarn for one for myself in Bordeaux, and Valentine's Day is coming: a scarf in Raspberry for my mother.

Knitting Peace

She's gone.  A little over a week ago her last breath came and went and was no more.

Peace and Sweet Release

The most appropriate response it seemed for me was to knit.  I'd been toying with some lanolin-rich Irish yarn for a small project--a gathering pouch for a young lad to stash collected treasures while he adventures about his yard.  I found that taking the time from the other Things I get to do today to sit rather still, hold the yarn in its serpentine around my tensioning fingers and let the thoughts of my dear friend Karen* who gifted me the yarn and who has so recently departed this physical plane knit themselves into a place of peace was a perfect way to hold her and her memory is a sacred space.

We had time to chat--I could hear her voice from a place beyond.  We laughed.  And cried a bit.   And remembered.  But mostly, I just sat with the yarn that had been hers, was now mine, and would be someone else's soon, and found a soft sweetness in releasing Karen to the next phase of her being, honoring her memory with each stitch.

*Some past posts that include Karen:  Open Season, A Gaggle of Swifts, Peace of Yarns, Gifted by Friend, Sniffing the Sights, Hilda Saves the Day, Rake Leaves/Play Ball.

Open Season

A fabulous gift from my best of knitting friends, Karen.

I wasn't really sure until I went for my walk this morning.  Pulled on my socks in preparation for the shoes and heading out the door, and then I knew.







There's something in the air lately that is whispering "yarn" and "sweaters."  You can hear it with only a minimal adjustment to your imagination.  As further confirmation, inspiration and a good pattern came together a couple of weeks ago when I started a small knitting project.  Yes, it's official.  Declaring open season for all knitters, timid or brave, beginning or advanced, wild or conservative--Things I get to do today.  Let the knitting begin!

Swift and Simple

Knitting season has been officially extended by another couple weeks. Maybe it's the groundhog's doing, but it's another good thing about the snowy stuff that came down all day today.  It seems like I got fired up late in the yarn year, so I appreciate the extra time to finger the fibers and needles to see what will come forth.

Adjustable for various skien sizes

Ease in life comes from simple tools that work well.  I've found mine.

In cahoots with the wool winder

I've wanted a yarn swift for some time but have been stubborn about paying nearly $100 for something I "need desperately," would have to store, but would use infrequently.  And then I found the simple version--an Amish style swift.

This baby is truly SWIFT

One quarter of the cost brought it right to my door.  And the yummiest of Things I get to do today is try it out for the first time.  Sweet!

Not the best part, but close:  storage is simple

I'm in love already.

By Guess and By Golly

Most of the time it's a meditation.  I love the rhythm, the feel of the yarn, the fragrance of the fiber. And while one is having fun, it's amazing to see an object grow.  Magic.  Again.

From the yarn gleaned, gathered and gifted from Karen-of-Boston, one small skein of alpaca in dark teal caught my attention.  It was my sister's favorite color.  To knit it up into a skinny scarf would be a delight and an opportunity to practice a new technique.  I was fascinated by scarves knit on the diagonal that I had seen in Morehouse Farms Merino Knits (see post "Gifted by Friend" 12-29-11).

So I began.  About 6 inches into the project, I realized that solid-color yarn would not yield a diagonal looking scarf--no contrast for a slanted perspective.  Several other design stitches came and went--a dark yarn does not show off details very well.  Then a more creative bug bit me and I unplyed a length of grey wool and used the wisps laid occasionally along side the teal alpaca to create a diagonal mist.  It was lovely.  It was scratchy.  And mysteriously the width of the scarf grew to an awkward size.  My sister and I agreed it was best to begin again.

Karen sent me a gray, soft,  alpaca skein (seeds for another scarf) to mix with the teal, and my sister thought a rusty orange would give the project some punch.  This time the width stayed consistent, the colors blended, it was a pleasure to create every stitch.

Is there enough yarn to knit the last rows?

The sweet sorrow of Things I get to do today is finish off this knitting piece. Sad to see it go--delighted to have it finished. And here I found a puzzle: the diagonal scarf pattern has to stop and the end taper finishes it off.  How much yarn does it take to finish the "corner?"  I wanted to use all the teal, concluding the final stitch with just 12" of yarn to snip off.

Unravelled to the edge of the first orange

I knit furiously last night until the end of a Chopin sonata for piano and cello. I knit this morning until I took an uneducated guess at how much yarn was needed to finish the last 28 decreasing rows.  My answer was "more than these few yards." So unraveling rows and beginning the decrease sooner was my next guess. And by Golly, it worked.

By Golly design
Reached the corner before the yarn ran out.
More than 12" left. Better than 12" short!

Tying Up Loose Ends

It took about half an hour.  That's all.  When it was finished, I felt good.  The scarf is the concluding member of the knit quartet:  mittens, sweater, hat, and now, scarf (see posts "Sweater Seeds" and "Knitting on the Road").

It's interesting that loose ends have such a fragmenting effect on us.  It's just a scarf, but looking at all the tails hanging out is somehow disconcerting.

Obvious loose ends

We have a words for this emotional/mental state:  he's all strung out, we say.  Most would call that a figure of speech.  It is.  But it is also so very much more.  When someone is "all strung out", their energy is flowing too many directions at one time--no focus, distracted, tired, spent--strings of energy going every which way.

Settled and altogether

For my scarf I took one tail at a time and settled it into its corresponding color in the body of the scarf.  If you're feeling like you are going too many directions at one time, you can also close down one thought or project at a time.  You can also "cheat", take a big pair of mental (not metal) scissors and just cut, cut, cut your energetic connection to all the distractions. Things I get to do today: allow a slow in-breath, hold for a few seconds, release the breath slowly.  Once more, in breath, hold, out breath.  Settled and altogether feels like who we really are.  Enjoy being yourself.  Enjoy being just you.

Eels No More

It's done.  Knit the last stitch, work in and secure the ends are the last Things I get to do today. And I'm just a tiny bit sad.  The hand work and finishing took two days.  This writing is late in the day on account of that last stitch.

Neck detail:  Loved doing the ribbing and garter edge.

The piece has been baptized by immersion in water, spun to damp dry in the washer, and is now having all its crazies tumbled out on low heat, delicate cycle.  This is how to "block and finish" acrylic yarn projects from what I read on line.  Hope it works.*

Auntie's sweater was completed today, the same day she left rehab and the city to returned to her little town and a nursing care facility just a few blocks from her house.  My instinct to complete the sweater 'cause she just might live long enough to use it was correct.  She might live long enough to wear it out.  That's where doing the best job a person can do comes in.  And that's why I'm a little sorry to be finished.  I did my best on the hand-knitted edges for the shawl, and we worked out a truce, it and I, about cooperation and ability.  I would not ask it to do something that only a lovely wool was capable of.  I would knit one stitch at a time securing its trust.  It could relax and move to the next phase of its evolution.

These last two days of knitted garter stitch have had space for thought and contemplation.  Deep in that quiet I discovered an awareness that will bless my life forever.  Thank you, Auntie and Acrylic, for that great gift.

Auntie's sweater/shawl

I also had plenty of time to think of my knit nice sayings:  "A stitch in time saves nine."  This writing does not include the words that describe the many dropped stitches that were "saved" with breath held until they were safe.  The stitch in time saves nine naughty words is the real meaning of the phrase.  Can't say bad words when holding my breath anyway.  And what about making a "silk purse out of a sow's ear,"  knowing that even with the finest of skill, acrylic pig would still be the basic material.  We were no where close to silk.  However, while knitting/grafting the front bands on to the sweater,  I realized that my technique for holding the yarn was wasting time.  Revising the technique with another circle around the little finger will save me whole weeks on future knitting projects.  Again, gratitude to everything in this project.

*The dryer just buzzed its completed cycle.  Looks very much the same as when I put it in.  Get ready for judiciously applied steam.  And we're eating out tonight.

Starting Over

Short message today.  You'll get the point.  That sweater, started on the knitting frame last week, has taken on its own life.  Have to say, it's not my favorite critter.

The details:  Last week as I was starting this project, 92-year-old Auntie fell and broke her left hip and left arm.   I wondered whether or not she would still need the sweater/shrug--ever.  My conclusion, however, was to knit faster.  This past week I've been on a mission to complete this project so Auntie can use  it sooner rather than later.  Well, the pushing (confessions here) has made me a bit cranky--that and the acrylic yarn.  I love wool.  I strongly dislike acrylic--erase, erase, erase. I am coming to terms with it.

Half-tamed eel on the front.

Short story:  pieces were knitted. They curled into long, eel-like ropes. It was nearly impossible to determine their finished size.  When they were put together to form a cape-like garment, it was all wrong in the shoulders.  Since acrylic cannot be steamed or pressed (it melts and looses it shape), it was one step forward and one step backward until I nearly wore a hole in the floor of my work space.

Let's start at the very beginning.
 It's a very good place to start.

My husband's advice:  when you have to push something that much to make it work, it's best to leave it.  Release the crankies, call the craft store to see if they have more yarn and head back to the drawing board are the Things I get to do today.  Things you get to do today: keep your fingers crossed!  One more thing:   I get to start a pot of tapioca pudding to soothe my solar plexus--feeling better already.

Simple Instructions

Follow simple instructions.  Long pause, here, for reflection.  I guess that would also involve reading them as well.  And here I find myself saying that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.

I have a contraption that knits.  It's not technically a knitting machine.  It's called a knitting frame.  You can knit an inch or more in one minute.   It has been years since the frame was out of the box and actually used for anything.  That's where the "little knowledge" comes in because I just knew that as I set it up, it would all come back to me about how to use it.  And it didn't all come back to me.  One piece was missing.

Perfect first row

If you've read past blogs, you know that I finished a sweater a couple of months ago that was three-years in the making!  My dear Auntie, who is a frail 92 years old, was so thrilled by the pictures that she put in a request for a sweater for herself.  So after doing the arithmetic in my head,  I told her, no, you can't wait that long.  After some thought on the subject, I recalled the knitting apparatus .  It seemed that the time line for a sweater of the sort she wanted could be reduced from three years to maybe three days.  In that case I would be happy to create a sweater for her.

Second row obviously NOT knitted at all.  Repeat ten times.

Last night I set about getting started on this project.  The first row knit exactly the way I remembered it.  The second row would not knit at all.  Period.  After no less than ten attempts at a second or third row, I was reaching the definition of insanity (doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results).  Bed seemed then next best step.




Today through brighter eyes and mind, cleaning up the litter from the adventure into relearning the use of this knitting device, I picked up a wire-type piece for the "carriage".  Quickly turning to the instruction booklet on "getting started", I found where the piece belonged.  The missing piece.  The solution.

Carriage with metal wire "fabric guide" properly installed.  This guide
forces the previously knit row to be held so that the needles can move
back and forth through the previous loop and knit the next stitch.
No fabric guide--no knitting.

Things I get to do today: read simple instructions all the way through,  follow simple instructions, knit a test swatch for Auntie's sweater, follow simple instructions, follow simple instructions.

Gifted by Friend

Karen lives close to Spy Pond.  That means we don't see each other often.  Spy Pond is in Massachusetts. I live on the West coast.  But our hearts are joined by a good many memories, events and shared interests, knitting being one of them.

"Indian Corn Scarf and Hat"
Morehouse Farm Merino Knits
by Margrit Lohrer

It takes much less effort to pour over a knitting book, soaking in the bliss of each masterfully crafted garment or project than it does to knit the whole thing into existence.  So when Karen and I visited, we poured over her knitting books.  Each volume was magnificent, worthy of hours, and the stack of volumes continued to grow in the short two days of our getting together.  It became stinging-eyed evident at 1 AM as I stubbornly refused to set aside the abundant buffet of richness in knitting that I was not going to devour them all,  not even one of them, and be able to relish the flavor, savor the fine taste, enjoy the feast.  At Karen's suggestion, I recorded the titles of the top six or eight scrumptious books.  These became my Christmas wish list.  My family was thrilled to have definitive and easy items to acquire.

"Diagonal Scarf"
Morehouse Farm Merino Knitsby Margrit Lohrer

"Garden Party Scarf"
Mother-Daughter Knits
by Sally Melville & Caddy Melville Ledbetter

"Spanish Combs"
Kaffe's Classics
by Kaffe Fassett

Christmas Morning, inside the wrap of four packages were books of some of the most exquisite and charming knits you have ever seen. Things I get to do today: "Select one volume to savor" and feel again the circuitously wonderful gift from my dear friend Karen.

Lazy No More

Lazy, good-for-nothing, gaping, stretched out buttonhole

I've always known that lazy was a "four-letter" word.  General usage usually says, "lazy, good-for-nothing."  Of all the lazy, good-for-nothings I've seen lately, the buttonholes on my recently-completed-and-highly-bragged-about sweater are the worst.

Why would a person button up a coat?  Why button up a sweater?  To keep out the cold.  I've been wearing my sweater nearly everyday all day for several weeks now.  When it feels really cold, I button it up.  Shortly after, I begin feeling a chill in my midsection and look down to see that it has unbuttoned itself.  The problem is that the buttonholes are lazy.

My close-knit friend Karen was lamenting her angst over knitting buttonholes in the band on sweaters because they ended up being gaping holes that seemed to come from a laps in consciousness on the part of the knitter instead of a purposeful hole for a button.  I had just finished my sweater and considered my first attempt at buttonholes to be terrific--until I actually tried to use them.  At that point they seemed all stretched out and, well, lazy.

Karen and I discussed the buttonhole blight when I was east to visit.  "Just don't make them.  Use snaps instead," she suggested.  Since mine were already in, my thought was to use elastic thread around each one to strengthen its grip.  But something about that solution wasn't quite right, either.

A functional, get-a-good-grip buttonhole

Tonight as I'm at a stopping place on a sewing project, the solution to lazy buttonholes floats easily to "next" of the Things I get to do today.  I grab my red yarn, thread it into a needle and trace it around a buttonhole on the wrong side of the band.  A gentle tug to decrease the size, an overhand knot, a test with the button, another overhand to make a square knot, snip and tuck in the yarn tails.  Repeat seven more times.  As I sit now to write this blog, I'm cozy and warm, and those once-lazy holes are tight and firm as a teenage muscle--lazy no more.

Knitting on the Road

I suppose there are roads in the sky.  I knit most of this project there, flying home from Boston this past weekend.  The ribbing was finished before I left, plus a number of rows that secured the pattern.  A six-hour flight is just the place for making a piece move along.

"Sweater Seeds" (10-23-11) chronicled the bulk of a long-term knitting affair.  What wasn't said was that in the hasty and uncertain buying of yarn not recommended by the pattern and finding a pattern that was sort of but really not quite the way I envisioned the sweater and the crafting of the design as I knit that, oh my, there was a fair amount of yarn huddled down in the bag when the last stitch was cast off.  Since I'm short on knit caps/hats, making one to match the sweater was, of course, the answer.

Just as we began our descent for landing, I cast off the last stitch.  I love short knitting projects!  But now the next morning I'm on the road again, this time with my husband.  We're headed to Davis, California, a long drive from Portland by any set of measurements.  It's the perfect time to review the Things I get to do today and check off "finish the hat."

I grafted the back seam together and pondered the best finishing embellishment.  Pompoms are about the happiest things I know.  I wanted one of each delicious color attached to the top tassel.  Usually when one makes a pompom, it requires cardboard to wrap the yarn around.  But we are on the road, so I used my head and my hands instead.

Finger pompom maker

Finger-made pompoms

 A few miles closer to California and the hat is ready to wear, so bright and perky it makes me wish I had a tail to wag.

The camera missed the wagging tail

Flying Out

Things I get to do today:  visit a friend.  My first college roommate lives in Arlington just north of Spy Pond.  If you live on the West Coast, it's just easier to say Boston.   This morning I'm fly out.

We'll pick up easily from wherever we left off in our last conversation.  We'll laugh till we're silly.  And we'll knit.  She loves yarn, wool and anything that has to do with the warmth of that process.  I'm hoping to beg a few skeins off her for fun little projects.  And we'll drink tea and eat--wonderful cozy things.

Mostly we are going to just settle in and enjoy being together in the same space, appreciate the time we can share and build more lovely memories.  I'll probably post a blog or two from there. But if I don't,  you might find a few things that you get to do over the next couple of days.  See you soon!