Knitting Bulletin

We interrupt this project to bring you breaking news… literally. Turns out those polished wood needles I love so much are really easy for a 4 year old to snap, especially in the lace-knitting sizes. So I had to put my lace shawl on hold temporarily. The good news is that a dear lady is having her first baby, and her baby shower was a week after the day my needles broke, so I had another fun thing to focus on: a Rainbow Baby Sweater!

Everyone needs a little more rainbow in
their life, right?

This project partly owes its existence to the incisive mind of my friend Dom, one of the most artistic people I know, who rightly perceived the heart of my quandary: I had a vision, and realizing it required extra fiddly work that might not turn out. In typical me fashion, I was paralyzed by my options and wasted a lot of time asking people who were not me what I would do if I were them. Turns out that information is not relevant to anything. Ever. But Dom saw right through my question. It was not really “what should I do?” but rather “what do I want to do?” Why spend more money and waaaaaay more time making something when I could just buy something adorable? Because I wanted to make something unique, something I was inspired to make. There would be no point if I didn’t make the thing I wanted to make.

It didn't line up perfectly - turns out that
an increase in width of a single stitch can
make a difference in the end.

The thing I wanted to make is a newborn-sized cardigan made from a beautiful self-striping merino sock yarn I’ve had for a while. I say self-striping, but the “stripe” is actually a gradual color-wash gradient fading through the whole rainbow. This is a problem because the back, being twice as wide as either side of the front, would go through the color changes twice as fast, and throw off the balance of the thing. And while I wasn’t going to worry about matching the front to the back, I wanted a consistent texture. Also, the front needed symmetry for sure, so it seemed like the best thing was to work each side from a different ball (same dye lot, of course), matching the spot in the color change on each so that it was the same on both sides. As for the back, I decided to work the back in two halves the same way, and seam it down the middle.

It doesn't look like a half-finished
sweater, it looks like a huge mess.

Look at all those stringy-things!

Look at those gaping holes! (That's
what God made loose ends for.)

Somewhere my moss-stitch border got
mixed up - so I just cut my losses and
 cast off early

This sweater had so many lessons to teach me. I couldn’t decide what to title this post, because I had so many good thoughts to put down. It was about fudging and faking (adapting the pattern, knitting on after miscounting rows, etc), but also about doing things the Right Way (christening my sweater blocking kit – that was fun!). It was about the process of making something, in particular the way that mistakes have a way of blending in, and the way loose ends have of tying together more issues than just themselves when you finish them off. And it was about color and fun.

I’m posting a catalogue of the mistakes I made on this sweater, because sometimes it’s important to acknowledge the imperfections of a thing before you can put those imperfections in perspective. And after you’ve looked at all the errors, check out the final picture: They Don’t Show At All.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled Lace Stole (I bought new needles).

Inspiration, my Muse, my Fickle Mistress

I am a slave. She rules me, and without her command, and her breath of life, my creations are wearisome and fruitless toil, if indeed I am able to put my hands to work at all. Inspiration, vision, magic – I don’t know what to call her, my mistress. But she is cruel and inconstant.

A sampler quilt built around the traditional
"Log Cabin" pattern, made as a baby gift for no good reason
(which is the best reason)

Sometimes, I’m struck with an idea. Who knows why? But I have to make it, like, right now. If the yarn shop is closed, or I can’t drive out to the fabric store, I’ll pore restlessly over my stash, desperate to find the right colors or textures. Out comes the graph paper, the ruler, dozens of colored pencils picked over and discarded until just the right shades are found. I’ll add, multiply, divide (inexpertly), sketch, cut, crumple, experiment until – at last! –a pattern comes out, a quilt-top drafted, a neckline perfected, or a swatch knitted up and ready to dive in. What prompted it? Maybe, this time, a baby was born whose name means House of God, and I NEED to make a Log Cabin quilt. Perhaps a little girl I know finally has a baby sister, and if they don’t get handmade matching dresses, the whole world will be thrown out of balance.

Other times, it’s no matter how much I want to come out with something brilliant, or even Nice. My sister, my dearest friend, at once my kindred spirit and my polar opposite (but more kindred than pole), had a baby girl, and asked me to be the Godmother. Highly sensible of the honor, I declared “I shall make her a blanket.” Well, that was three years ago, and there is no blanket. In fact, I just had the perfect idea for it today, after trying out and discarding half a dozen ideas. (She has since also had a son, and HIS baby quilt is in the works, because… well, because I was inspired.)

It’s not fair, it’s irritating, and it makes me feel bad when inspiration fails. On the flip side, dear Bob, that Log Cabin quilt I made opened the door to a friendship that was basic at the time, but has since flowered into something I would sorely miss now. When the inspired things do pop out, they are Just The Thing. All we really have to do in this life is the job that’s in front of us. I don’t know why this job plunks itself in my lap and not that one, but this is the sweater I have to knit, this is the nose I have to wipe, this is the lunch date I have to make (this is the midnight blog post I have to write). It feels right to go with it.

And this is why I’ll never be a business owner. And why I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sunday Inspiration (In Which I Send You To Someone Else's Article)

It's Sunday, and let me tell you, I take my Day of Rest seriously. So instead of writing my own thoughts, I'm going to send you to this article instead, which resonated so deeply with my thoughts and experience that it could have come straight from my own head, except that my thoughts aren't that organized.

It's about body image, being fat, and thinking you're worthless for something not essential to yourself (something I struggle with). When I was a kid, I was told I was "Ruben-esque," "Edwardian," or even "voluptuous" (don't tell my mom about that one). I've been actually complimented on my womanly physique, by people who really meant it. But it always rang in my head as mere euphemisms for Fat.

But now I realize something. Ever hear the word "dysphemism?" It's one of my favorite words - it's a mean way of saying something that isn't bad, just as a euphemism is a nice way of saying something unpleasant. A racial slur is a kind of dysphemism. And what I realize now is that "Fat" is just a dysphemism for... all those nice (and factual) descriptions above.

This is How It's Done, people.

My eldest's offering for a bake sale.

“To Fangirl” (etymology fr English coll “fan” abbreviated form of “fanatic,” and “gurle,” ME, a young person of either sex) is a verb my daughters use to describe the inordinate delight taken in certain fictional subjects. At its most basic, it is the Squee Instinct. It’s been a thing for a long, long time. The modern young woman fangirls about Sherlock (the BBC show), Dr Who, Loki (or other Avengers/super heroes), and so on. You’ve seen the t-shirts. The litmus test is this: is there fan fiction? Then it’s fangirl territory. The word can also be used as a noun.

Skyward Sword Link and Zelda

Consistency is important to the fangirl. Even if you’re just making stuff up yourself, you have to take every canonical (e.g. actually written by Stephen Moffat) happening into account, and characters must not act outside of their usual mode, unless they are hypnotized by an alien or drugged. And if you’re going to dress up, you HAVE to get it exactly right. And someday, you’re going to find yourself dressing up, so you’d better build up your wardrobe skillz now. And that would be my department.

Around here, we start ‘em young, and we feed them only the finest material. My little ones’ favorites are Legend of Zelda and Avatar: the Last Airbender. I dare not say a word against it, because hey, someone has to play the video game (that would be me), and Avatar is actually a really good show. (I might write a whole blog post about it later.) And the costumes… well, let’s just say I’ve never had to think very hard about what to get my kids for their birthdays.

My latest - my son specified the Season One Prince Zuko.
It should be clear by now where my kids learn their fangirling from.

My first major sewing project ever.
I totally altered the pattern, too,
to make it more like the movie. 

Replication is a skill set in its own right. It’s one thing to go down to the Disney store and buy the approximately-colored dress with the right princess face on it (that is the current way to distinguish between princesses at Disney) and make your little girl happy. That’s just fine. Children are happy at the end. But I got my first taste of replication when my eldest turned 4, and I never looked back...

When my son wanted to be Sheriff Woody for Hallowe'en, I couldn’t just get the costume that was an image of the cartoon representation of the toy of the puppet of the person, silk-screened onto a jumpsuit. Even though there may have never been a Real Person Sherriff Woody before, there is now, and my son was him. Actual blue jeans, a proper shirt, separate cowboy vest, nice boots, and a real bandanna. That’s how we roll. (Full disclosure: I bought the printed jumpsuit for Buzz Lightyear. Dammit Jim, I’m a seamstress, not an engineer.)

 My only real regret is that when I made a Princess Aurora gown, I gave in and made it pink. A Real Replicator would have known to make it blue, like it is for most of the movie, including the whole time she is sleeping. (No, I'm not posting a picture of that one. Bob will eat me.)

Glitch

I don't seem to be able to comment on my own posts, or reply to comments left for me. I have no idea why, but I'm working on it. You all had such nice things to say, I'm not ignoring you on purpose!

EDIT: I seem to have figured it out. Yay!

Tool Talk: Knitting

Knitting is what's on my mind, so we're going to stick with it for a bit. Quilting, garment construction, and costume design are all in the queue, though, so you non-knitters take heart.

I'm going to tell you another thing about myself: I love tools. As legos are to an eight year old boy, all manner of crafting and sewing tools are to me: toys, yes, but also my creative limbs. I'm a sucker for quilting notions, specialized pencils, stencil sheets (of which I have about ten times as many as I've ever used), miniature things - Oh Dear Me, the miniature things! - and so on. Incidentally, it's also the reason I was able to learn to love camping with my kiddos - specialized camping gear is The Best.

Now, being a lover of Real Things, as well as a lover of tools, naturally I believe in the importance of getting the finest options available. Usually when I learn a new skill, I go a bit overboard, buying things I think I might need, but refining my needs as I go, and learn my preferences. So I have a box full of various types of stitch markers, cable needles, stitch holders, different sizes of tapestry and yarn needles, and, of course, every size and variety of knitting needle imaginable: aluminum, plastic, wood, double-pointed, circular, long straight, short straight... you get the idea. Some day I want a set of bone dpns, but I'm in no hurry. I'm not sure I'd ever even use them, but I do collect things.

My favorite needles are Knitter's Pride Dreamz needles. They are made from polished wood, so they're light-weight and comfortable. They don't get too cold or too warm, and they come  in beautiful stained colors which make me happy (except the first time I used them, because the size 7's are black and boring). The wood grabs the yarn just enough that my stitches stay secure, but not so much that it's hard to slide the work along the needle. For my birthday, I bought myself this set of interchangeable-point cable needles - I've had children slide an aluminum needle right out of my work before, to much wailing and gnashing of teeth, and I could imagine the same happening with a straight wooden needle. With cable needles, you can center your work on the cable and wind the points up and tuck them away - no danger!

Also, now that I learned to use the magic loop method, I don't even need double-point needles to knit tubes. However, using dpns is fun and satisfying, so I still have some of those in my box to play with. Maybe one of these days I'll try my hand at creating a video tutorial. Magic Loop will be my first offering, because it changed my knitting so much.

After needles, the most useful tool I've got is my row counter. On my first pair of socks, I depended on counting the rows to make sure they were the same size, but I must be really bad at counting rows, because they came out different sizes. Not too much, and they're socks anyway, so they're supposed to stretch to fit, but still. They were a gift, and they were crooked and dumb (thanks for that assessment, Bob), so to prevent further errors, I bought a lockable click-counter. It's also very helpful for knitting lace, or anything where you have to follow a chart. In that vein, highlighters are also helpful, as you can color the rows different colors, so you don't get confused.

I have a billion stitch markers, but I'm always losing them (read: my kids steal them). When I want them, I like the locking kind that look like mini safety pins better than the ring kind, but waste yarn works just fine, and besides which, I'm usually aware of when I'm coming to the marked spot anyway. Maybe I just haven't yet taken on the right challenge, and those stitch markers will have their day.

Next up, I need a yarn swift! How about you? What knitting tools do you use? What would you like to have?

About Knitting

Knitting is the newest tool in my beauty box. I tried when I was a kid, but my work kept getting wider and wider as I went. It wasn't until I was teaching my own child how to knit with rainbow variegated yarn that I saw where I had been picking up stitches - there, right in the middle of my yellow stitches, was a loop from the purple row below! Now I had the Key!

It was still a while before I realized the versatility of my newfound skill. It could be functional:

(but really, really boring to make - 
those last hundred hours couldn't have gotten any slower. 
I still can't believe I finished the whole thing!)

It could be whimsical:

(that's a pig.)

It could be cosy and comfortable, yet decorative and full of flair:

(I haven't yet made the match to this, so you only get to see one.)

Depending on what you choose to make, it can be meditative, engaging, challenging or consuming. It's handily portable. Hand knit items make great gifts. Beautiful yarn feels wonderful in your hands. You can work a bit at a time. And you're spared the crocheter's constant agony of people asking "What are you knitting?"

I use Knitter's Pride "Dreamz" polished wood needles (hey, I didn't name them), because they feel really nice, and stay put in my work, unlike aluminum needles. Also unlike aluminum, they don't have an irritating clicky noise - I think of aluminum as the Plastic of Metals. Ew. Using circular needles keeps me secure in the knowledge that it will be really, really hard for curious little fingers to pull the needles out of my work and ruin everything.

These days, besides a small piglet-in-process that I carry in my purse all the time, I am busily exploring a new dimension of knitting - airy soft and whispery delicate:

This is a lace stole from this book, which I've had for years and years and always wanted to try. The yarn is a mohair/silk blend - it's very hairy - with a bit of silvery sparkle just for fun.

So far, I've made about seven major errors. I recount at the end of every other row, and I've gone back and unpicked a few times (the yarn is too hairy to rip back, so lifelines are useless), but mostly I just mark the spot and correct on the next row. And you know what? It Doesn't Show At All.

Commenting Rules

Before I've even put up any real posts, there are a couple of things I want to head off. I'm going to be sharing a lot of photos of my work, and a couple of typical reactions to things I make drive me up the wall. If they continually show up in the comments (which I will moderate anyway), then I'm going to hate doing this, which will totally defeat the purpose of having this blog. Therefore, I have two rules:

1. Don't ever tell me "I wish I could do that." If you really wished it, you'd learn. If I can learn it, you can - I'm not that special. I had no guru, no method, no teacher, just you and me... oh wait. No, really. My teachers are books and youtube. This stuff is not hard.

2. Don't ask me where I find the time. The answer to that is on BobTalkLand - I prioritize practical creativity over other things that you think are important. That's the only answer, and if I start thinking about it, I'm going to realize that your priorities must be better than mine and I should do other stuff before I sit down to work.

After that, I welcome your thoughts. Tell me about your own projects. Share your sources of inspiration. Tell me how wonderful I am. Go ahead!

Intro Post - Longer than Usual, I Promise.

Hi, welcome to my blog! I’m Kathleen, and I like real things. I like my toys made out of wood and fabric, my food made out of butter, wine, organic produce and fresh herbs, and my clothing custom made from natural fibers. Because of this, I tend to just make things myself. I find great satisfaction and peace in making things with my own two hands, using only the finest real components. However, I’m also a realist, and to be honest, there’s a lot of plastic in my life, both literal and figurative. I’m not totally hardcore – I make my own deodorant and toothpaste, but I use shampoo and shaving cream. And that’s OK.

Now that you know a bit about me, I’d like to introduce you to my friend Bob. Bob sits on my couch and sleeps in my bed and rides in the passenger seat of my car. He is very clever, and he gives me a lot of advice, since he knows so many things. For example, he knows that if I spent less money on fabric and crafting supplies that I’m probably not going to get around to using, maybe we could afford a bigger house. However, a bigger house would be a bad idea because I’m such a lousy housekeeper. And since I’m such a lousy housekeeper, I shouldn’t be wasting my time on sewing, quilting, knitting and all those other things, I should be doing a better job of what’s important, like exercising and eating right so I can be a valuable attractive person whose body shows no signs of age or the bearing of seven children. But he also knows that that will never happen, because I am a fat and worthless slob who isn’t very good at making things anyway, and I may as well give in, and eat chocolate in my messy house and play video games instead of doing anything “productive” (productive of what, anyway? Silly homemade stuff that no one wants?).

See, Bob is my depression. His voice is very different from my voice, but sometimes he talks so loud I get confused. So I gave him a name to help me distinguish him from me. Now I’m working on ending our relationship. I knew it had gone too far when I didn’t want to make things any more. Every time I thought of making something, I was filled with… nothing. Apathy. Sluggishness. Anything but inspiration (and I’m a total slave to my muse – more on that later). So, to be quite blunt, I shoved myself into therapy and started taking drugs. And now, I’m going to help myself save myself by turning back to my beautiful things.

I named this blog after the ancient Silk Road trading route, a long, arduous and dangerous journey that people took to obtain and trade beautiful things. (Well, and money too, but I’m not focusing on that.) I like the idea that beautiful things are worth pursuing. I also believe in the saving power of work. Making things for my family is better than buying things for my family because making things is a labor of love. (OK, Shopping is labor too, but I grumble the whole time, so there goes the redemptive power.) So, here is a place for me to share my work, delight in beauty, talk about depression, and maybe inspire and get inspired along the way.

This is probably the most personal I’ll ever get. I hope you enjoy my work.