Yarnie Goodness/Goofiness

I went to lunch with a friend; our waitress was someone I've known for a long time, ex-roommate of one of my sisters. My friend and I were happily discussing yarn and looking at color cards, fondling the new yarn that had just been delivered. The waitress, a yarn fanatic herself, eagerly jumped in to the conversation. I had no idea that she knew how to knit; this urge to pick up sticks might have developed after my sister moved away.

So we told her all about Ravelry. I've scribbled about Rav so much that I don't think I need to write much more here. We told her allllll about Ravelry, and I could see the gleam of yarn fanaticism in her eyes. The math that Rav does for you; the organizational stuff for needles, yarn, and books you own; the way you can find a pattern and look at how everyone else interpreted colors or changes to the design. In other words, we completely geeked out about Ravelry.

We told her about some other websites like knittinghelp.com, and she wrote a bunch of things down on her notepad. Love that, love finding someone who shares a passion. I thought she was really cool when my sister lived with her; hypothesis confirmed!

So today's mitzvah is all about spreading the yarn love, and it is also a joint mitzvah, because if I hadn't gone out to lunch with my friend, I probably wouldn't have ever talked knitting with the waitress. Happy knitters!

Facing Future

(title of an album by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, featuring traditional Hawai'ian music)

Looking ahead hasn't really ever been my strong suit.  Sure, sure, I make plans like everyone else, but things rarely work out the way I planned.  At least, not since I was about 16.

Growing up, through school, I planned to be a doctor.  I took Latin (oh, so useful) in high school with the idea that I would study medicine.  I planned out my high school course work around being an exchange student; took summer school classes, had a very full class schedule so that I would be on track to graduate with my class.  Beyond, that, though, I didn't really have a plan.

I figured out quickly enough in college that medicine wasn't the career for me; neither nursing or doctoring was in my future.  I got very interested in the law, but that wasn't until I was close to graduating from college.  I applied, but did not get accepted to law school.  I drifted through college, graduating eventually with a practical, run-of-the-mill business degree.  I was hardly passionate about studying management; languages, psychology, music, and fiber arts all held much more fascination for me.  Yes, even then, weaving and spinning were things I thought were really interesting.

But I was at least smart enough to recognize that a degree in German, or psychology, or music wouldn't end up landing me a good job right out of school.  Want to teach German in the US?  You should probably have a master's degree.  All I could see doing with a 4 year degree in psych was going on to grad school, and at the time, grad school wasn't something I wanted to do.  After K-12 schooling and around 5 years of college, I wanted to be the hell out of school.

I started working for Ye Olde Evile Bank when I was just in the middle of my college coursework; staying there, once I graduated, was easier than looking for something else.  I watched the internal postings and when I worked for the Stiffs Division, that was my first "real" job.  As a glorified secretary, in that department, they required a college degree.  There wasn't anything I had learned in college that helped me do that job; I think the reasons for requiring the degree had more to do with expectations of maturity level and the fact that you had a four year degree showed that you could stick with something and had an accomplishment or two.

I got unhappy with the bank when I had been working for the trust department for a few years.  Disillusioned.  I wasn't making much money, and I wanted about a $10,000 a year raise; my boss laughed when I told him that.  But with that college degree and 5 years experience, I was making around 20K a year.  I thought #1) I was worth more than that and #2) for the responsibilities and work they gave me, 30K a year was the bare minimum they should have been paying me.  They disagreed.  I found out years later that among the secretaries in my division, over two cities, I was the lowest paid assistant/secretary.  Which, incidentally, really pisses me off NOW.  I didn't know then; I just knew that I hated my commute, I wasn't excited about what I was doing, and I could see myself turning into a bitter 40-something career secretary, which wasn't in my plans at all.  My plans had been to set the world on fire; to change the world, to do something important.

That led me away from the bank and to my old non-profit job.  There, at least, I felt like I was making a difference, even just a small one, but I was working to help people right in my own community, and I got immense satisfaction out of that.

Until that house of cards collapsed.

Let's skip over the part where I worked in that awful sales job and the subsequent black hole of depression, yeah?  OK.

Where I am now makes me very happy, and I think I could probably be quite happy here until I retired; although that is putting the cart a-fore the horse a little; at 34 years old, I have a minimum of 26 years left in the workforce.  Maybe I don't want to come to this job every day for the next 30-ish years.  Maybe I do.  I don't know.

I do know that now I *do* want to go back to school and get a master's degree.  I'm no more passionate about studying business now than I was 10 years ago; but again, I recognize that a business degree is useful, and has many applications.  And I don't hate it; it just doesn't do the same for me as say, learning a new textile ability, excitement-wise.

Tangentially, did I mention that I learned a new knitting stitch at a fiber festival a few weeks ago?  Called a picot cast-on, it creates a frilly, feminine edge to baby blankets or what-have-you.  I love the way it looks, and promptly cast a shawl on to the needles with yarn purchased at that fiber festival.  Hand spun, hand dyed, 100% merino wool, the softest I have ever touched.  I can't wear wool next to my skin, even cashmere bothers me, but I'll have no trouble using this as a light wrap in the summer or as a big, big scarf in the winter.

So if I could, I'd find a way to incorporate the knitting and my interest in spinning into a way to make a living.  (Which, hello, if you think my knitting habit is expensive?  A "good" spinning wheel will run you around $600.  Seriously.)  But not in such a way that I'm taking on commissioned knits....let's take my new (unfinished) shawl as an example.  That lovely handspun merino was $32 a skein, and I bought 2.  So we're at $64 for the yarn.  The class for the new picot edging I learned was about $30.  The shawl might be as long as 6 inches right at this moment, and I've spent about 10 hours working on it to date.  Skilled, specialized labor...hmm.  Let's agree on a $20 an hour figure.  Then there are the notions (stitch markers, measuring tape, thread cutter/scissors, ball winder) that I already own and have invested some pretty serious money in.  Then there are the needles themselves; I'm a knitting snot, and I won't use needles that you can get in Michael's or JoAnn's craft stores.  They're plastic, and they're crap.  The Addi needles I prefer start out around $7, and the needles I'm using on this shawl were $12.  Time for some math.

$64 Yarn

$30 Class/instruction

$12 US size 9 circular needle, 24 inch cord

$20  assorted notions that will be used

$20/hr for labor; estimated 50 hours production time - $1,000 for labor (I am a slow knitter, admittedly, but I place a high value on my time.)

Cost of shawl;  $1,126.00

You'd buy one, right?

So I can't exactly plan a future that incorporates my current knitting passion.  But I do like what I'm doing for a living now.  I'm wondering if I should be making a plan, other than the retirement monetary planning I've already in place, for moving forward.  Where do I want to go, career-wise?  What do I want to do?  Or, considering the state of the world's finances, should I keep my head down, keep doing what I'm doing, and worry about facing the future another day?

Knitting Faux Pas; a few things non-knitters should know.

On Ravelry, I belong to a group called "Selfish Knitters".  The group's credo is as follows:

We are The Sainthood of the Aggrieved Knitters Who Say Nee to Non-Lovers of Our Knitting.

Our Battle Cry(s):

1. We only knit for ourselves and for people who bless us and hand us boxes of expensive chocolates! Or money.

2. Some people need to learn gratitude or face the wrath of our flinging needles of Death!

3. Selfish Knitters are people who love and value themselves.

4. The person I knit for knows how to appreciate a knitted item–ME!

5. By uber-KAL-ling, selfish knitters can multiply the amount of attention they get for each knitting project.

6. Everybody should be loved. But some people are greeting-card-love-worthy and some people are handknit-socks worthy.

Official Proclamation - any knittings done for friends/family who just created human life OR are fighting hard to preserve human life are knittings done from the heart and not because of the selfishness of others and are therefore free from scorn and spite in this group!

We are here to support each other in our quest to become/be selfish knitters. No more “Can you make this for me and have it done tonight?”. No more “But I really liked the other color better.” No more “Can you make me a man-thong?”

The group started a list of rules for how people (i.e. non-knitters) should react when presented with a hand-knitted item.  I read my way through what was then "just" a 3-page thread and howled the whole time.  I contributed but one of these rules, and I'm really touched that it ended up in the listatation.  The thread is still going strong with 8 pages and counting, so I might just run this post from time-to-time with the additions.

Please bear in mind that most of this is intended with tongue FIRMLY in cheek and is intended to sound both selfish and self-deprecating.  Thankfully, no one that I knit for has ever committed any of these 'mortal sins'.  One or two of the rules made me gasp out loud that someone would say such a thing to a stranger - or worse - a friend or family member.  Most of the posts in the thread had a little backstory to each rule, so some of these things have indeed happened to real people.  

Chapter 1: Gift giving

1. Don’t give yarn as a gift if you expect the recipient to knit something for you in return. That is not a gift, that is a request.

2. A gift that is a pattern book with the expectation that I will make something from said book IS NOT A GIFT! It is a commission. I do not do commissions.

Chapter 2: On Show and Tell

1. When shown a knitter’s FO, oohs and aahs should be used liberally. Any comments such as “I don’t like that mitten” or “You should have done ______ differently” should be kept to oneself. Period.

2. When you see a FO of wondrous beauty, or a knitter working on something, please don’t gasp and say, “I could never do that!” Do you think knitters were born churning out such objects? Stop hinting and get yourself some needles and we’ll see how quickly you can pick it up.

3. Time: Do you, dear non-knitter, know how silly you sound saying, “I just don’t have the time to do that,” while you’re sitting there, watching me knit, on break at work or in an office waiting for an appointment, rehashing to me yesterday’s reality show highlights? If you don’t want to knit/crochet, that’s perfectly alright, all the more wool for me, but do not say you don’t have the time. You just lack time management skills, and perhaps a bit of creative industriousness. 3a: And don’t use that Time excuse to 1. not say what you really mean; I don’t want to… thats ok toots, we don’t want you to either, so shut up. 2. Act as if what we do isn’t as important as what you do, so we have far more leisure time to ‘play’ at knitting, since you’re a closet (TVaholic, boozer, eater, nosepicker)… we really don’t care what you do with your time just leave our time alone. 3. Put us down because you are really jealous as hell and wish you had something to do so you didn’t look so stupid sitting there griping about your busy (aka boring) life

4. When approaching a stranger about a knitted garment and finding out they made themselves don’t say “I could make that” in a derogatory tone. It doesn’t matter who made it the level of skill is still the same.

Chapter 3: Making request

1. Never ever assume that it will be cheaper to have someone knit you a hat, scarf, sweater, mittens. hand knits are NEVER cheaper….maybe for you but definitely not for the person knitting said “deal.”

2. When a knitter has deemed you knitworthy and is working on a project for you… under no circumstances should you ever say how easy it would be to finish if the knitter would just get to working on it. This will force the knitter to play the hand of “if it’s so easy… here, do it yourself” and your name will be stricken from the knitworthy list because it was on the list tenuously to begin with and that was the last straw.

3. If you ever request a knitted item from a knitter, do not tell the knitter that you do not like the finished object or, heaven forbid, return it as well. Knitters are not stores. We do not make consumer goods you may return, we make you gifts. These gifts come from the heart and are made with love. When you return these gifts by saying you hated them and if we could please do better next time, we feel hurt. Especially when it was you that requested this gift. It’s like us offering you our hearts and you stomping on them and throwing them into our faces and then expecting us to give you our hearts again. A knitter can only take so much heartbreak before permanently kicking you off the to knit for list.

4. No nagging! Assuming that you are knitworthy, do not ever ask the knitter “how long will it be? “I need this by ______ date” or “can’t you finish it sooner?”

5. It being common knowledge that someone is the only knitter you know and quite an unselfish one at that (when it comes to kiddies and the exclusively knitworthy) - DO NOT grab said person mid conversation and point out someone’s ‘knitted’ garment with that “nudge nudge wink wink” look on your face or smile pathetically and say “hi” in that awful patronising tone - At the very least you will get an eyebrow raise (the unimpressed kind) or else - especially if you are a repeat offender - you WILL get a slap!!

6. If you ask me to make you something (and you are willing to pay for it) don’t complain that the price I set is too damn expensive. For my family and friends, if they ask me to make them something, I usually only charge them for the yarn I use. So if you choose that gorgeous merino silk that is handyed, don’t be surprised at the $30 hat I knit you. How much are they charging at banana republic? Well, take your a$$ there an’ buy one. I’ll make myself that awesome hat from the idea you just gave me :)

7. There is no “quick altering” for already knit items, so don’t ask.

Chapter 4: Dirty fingers, stay away!

1. If your hands are dirty (eg. from eating/snacking), resist the urge to grab pretty lace-y angora (or any type of handknit). Handknits are often not easily washable, unlike the clothes from the Gap that you may currently wearing.

Chapter 5: Thanks!

1. When deemed knitworthy and bestowed a handknit gift, a simple email saying “thank you so much” is perfectly fine, especially if the alternative is nothing. Don’t put off the thank you because you somehow feel it needs to be in epic form and sent via Oscar-worthy video clip, turtledove, handmade card, or whatever.

Chapter 6: Respect (and don’t joke with) The Knitter

1. Knitworthy people should refrain from asking, “What are you going to knit me next?” Maybe once, fine. But repeatedly, even as a supposed joke, will slowly bump down their knitworthy status. Double demotion for asking The Knitter before they start a project from themselves after just finishing something for the requester

2. Do NOT grab the WIP to have a feel/squish without asking first!

3. Do NOT borrow tools without asking.

4. Do NOT assume the knitter is “doing it wrong” and GRAB their knitting to “show them how it’s done”.

5. Do NOT go through a Knitter’s bag

6. Do NOT take away my book/magazine/pattern

7. Do NOT play with the yarn I am knitting while I am knitting

8. Don’t call a knitter a “granny” in a slighly derogotary tone when you see one knitting. Its insulting two ways: the implication that being an older woman is bad and the implication that knitting means we are old women. I’m young, I’ve got no kids, and I’m quite proud that I am skilled enough to create with my hands.

9. Looking at my knitting and saying “Wow, you made that? I don’t have to bother making things, I have enough money to buy what I want. I value my time more than you do” is really rude. Just because you don’t choose to make things with your hands does not make you better than those of us that do. Good luck staying warm if all the stores suddenly closed.

10. when approaching a knitter staring very hard at what they’re knitting, do not assume the knitter wants you to talk. Politely approach said knitter and whisper: “Are you counting?”

11. If you run into a knitter you haven’t seen for a while, and the knitter has the same project as the last time you saw them, DO NOT, in a shocked tone, say “Wow, you’re not done with that YET?!?”

12. And when seeing someone ripping out their first pair of socks AGAIN ask, “How many times are you going to rip those socks out?”

13. If a knitter makes you something that you did not ask for - as a gift just because s/he wanted to make it, accept it graciously (with lots of enthusiasm) and let it go. Please do not offer payment.

14. It is perfectly acceptable to ask to squish or pet something a knitter is wearing, as long as the knitter has made it. But please remember to ASK before you do so.

15. A knitter is always happy to answer the question “Whatcha makin’ now?” or “What’s that yarn for?”, if asked with enthusiasm.

16. When someone tells you his/her hobby is knitting, don’t say “But can you knit?” Not that it’s very offensive, it just doesn’t sound very bright. (No, I can’t knit even though it’s my hobby?)

17. Never ask: “If you want socks, why don’t you just go buy them for $10 a pack??” OR “You can buy a sweater at Kohl’s for $15” OR “Why would you knit ____ when you can go to _____ and buy it for $__?”’ Ugh. Because if I wanted mass produced socks, I would go buy them. But they don’t give me the satisfaction that I get making socks myself. Nor do they feel as nice on my feet. Nor do I get to choose the luscious colors or fibers. There is a time and a place for Wal-mart socks. But they aren’t going to give me the satisfaction of working with my hands and producing something beautiful and one-of-a-kind for myself. Plus, I love me just enough to spend the time on me. So Pffffbbbbbtttt. If I wanted a cheap sweater, I most certainly WOULD go and buy a cheap sweater. But since I want to choose the fiber, fit, pattern, colors, etc, AND because I enjoy making something so unique with my own two hands, two sticks, and some string, I will.

18. Never assume that a knitter’s project is for a baby - pu-lease - even adults wear knitted items.

19. Never assume that a knitter’s project must be for someone else.

20. And never, ever, ask a stranger (knitter or not) if she is pregnant unless it is so freakin’ obvious that you don’t have to ask.

21. Anything along the lines of, “I let my girlfriend wear the hat you made me. She hates it” should be grounds not just for banning from the knitworthy list but for possible bodily injury.

22. DO NOT assume that if I crochet, I can also knit and vice versa. At least not at the same proficiency.

23. DO NOT take ANY credit for a hadcrafted item if you did not actually handcraft said item. Oh, you bought the yarn? Picked the pattern? Gave me the idea? How nice, but you did not spend the tens/hundreds of hours creating each stitch. NO CREDIT FOR YOU!

24. If you’ve been gifted with a handcrafted item… perhaps, let’s say (purely for the sake of argument), a baby sweater… for your wee little love, kindly do not return the handcrafted item to the crafter & ask him/her to take it all apart & use the yarn to make something newer & bigger for your not-so-wee-any-longer little love. While the crafter may appreciate your concept of recycling & your desire that the crafted item not go to waste, I’m pretty sure the crafter will not be receptive to all the work involved with deconstructing something that took lots of time, love, effort, stitches, etc. to construct in the first place, nor will the crafter be pleased to be thought of as a “crafting factory” no matter how much you might consider it complimentary that he/she is “in demand.”

25. Don’t ask your wife to pretty-please knit you a 100% wool sweater to fit your 50” chest, from wool yarn that was chosen by you specifically for its woolly warmth… and then ask your wife to “hurry up” in finishing the 100% wool sweater because you are “cold” and you really really REALLY want to wear your warm 100% wool sweater…and then NOT WEAR THE 100% WOOL SWEATER BECAUSE IT’S TOO WARM.

26. If I make something for your little one, and tell you “all I ask for in return is a picture of baby/kid wearing it.” Take a darn picture and give it to me! It’s really not THAT much to ask in return. Is it?

27. If I am counting stitches and you interupt me, I am likely to start counting out loud (loudly) This is your que to stop talking. It is NOT your que to start to yell out random numbers at me!! (thanks kids!)

28. If you ask me to teach you a stitch/ technique (I work in a yarn store) do not then tell me “that’s not how I do it.” or “that’s not how I was taught it.” Why are you even asking me to show you then?!! My response has been, “Then just do it the way you were shown. You’ll get the best results with what you are comfortable with” And yes I have gotten at least one, “But I don’t remember how to do it!” (head banging against a brick wall then ensues.)

29. If I am knitting on the train/bus and there are empty seats that aren’t right next to mine, please sit elsewhere, NOT right on top of me (forcing me to move my knitting bag and scrunch in on myself to avoid bumping you.~~stabbing you in the eye with my needles~~ )

30. If you see someone that you do not know knitting (let’s say in a class or on the bus or in public somewhere) do not ask what they can knit you. Yes, I am capable of knitting you a tie / computer case / whatever random thing you think I can’t knit and it is possible but I don’t know you, and I won’t knit you any of these things. The situation is just awkward.

31. In the case that you are married to one or date one or for share money or something - do not bother said knitter about buying yarn and accessories. There is a reason I need different sizes of needles - yes, there really is - and if I buy the yarn, I can use it in the future. It’s not like chicken or something where if I don’t eat it all in a week it’s going to magically disappear. I promise - the yarn will NOT go to waste.

32. If you are a husband, do not offer your wife’s knitting services to others. Do not say to your mother, “Mom, my wife can knit that for you if you ask.” She does NOT want to knit that for your mom. or your grandmother. or your sister.

33. If you are a sister-in-law, do not say, ”I’d like for you to knit a sweater for my daughter.” I’ve never knit a sweater before and if I wanted to knit a sweater, I’d knit one for myself first.

34. If you are the often mean grandmother-in-law, do not say, ”I’ll pay you to knit me a scarf. I’ll pay for the yarn.” What about paying me for the time?! And do not say, “I wish the first scarf you knit for me when I became your new granny was brown not blue because I don’t own enough blue things to match it.” And don’t look at the scarf I made a mutual friend with envy. It makes me feel bad that you obviously don’t appreciate the hard work that went into choosing that specific color and pattern for you.

35. If you are a friend who guilted me into giving you a scarf off my neck, then WEAR IT! Let me see you wearing it. It makes me feel bad that you never wear it. Why make me give it to you if you won’t wear it?!

Chapter 7: Respect (and use) the knitwear

1. Giftee should never disrespect anything that the knitter has given them. As in tossing on the floor, throwing in the laundry (unless superwash), forgetting that it was you that gave it to them, giving it away to someone else that admires it, sending it off to thrift shop because you really didn’t like the (color, fit, texture, it’s wool) whatever.

2. If a knitter takes the time to hand-knit you something, please don’t just pack it away because it’s “too nice” or you “don’t want to ruin it.” We knit it for you to enjoy and use, and not using whatever we’ve made for you makes us feel like it wasn’t loved.

3. If you decide to help out by doing laundry, look at what you’re throwing in the washer/dryer. If you’re in doubt about whether something will be safe in there, then ask, for Bob’s sake! Nothing like seeing hours and hours of loving work reduced to a felted lump. sniff

4. If you are 6 years old, don’t throw the mittens your Mom made onto the roof of your school, even if “all the other guys were doing it”. Especially if there are workmen up there tarring the roof.

Chapter 8: Proposal of knitting for sale

1. Please resist the urge to tell the knitter that they could make “so much money” selling their finished objects for the amount you would be willing to pay for that object, usually less than $25. First of all, we’ll think you’re just silly that you think $25 is “so much money”; secondly, we very likely spent more than that on just the yarn; and thirdly, you are displaying your ignorance of how much time and work I’ve put in. Suggesting that your handknit socks are worth any monetary amount under $500 is grounds for removal from the knitworthy list.

Chapter 9: Respect the Designer

1. When your knitter gives you a wonderful gift, it is wonderful that you wear it. It is also wonderful that you brag on your knitter. And I can’t tell you how impressed your knitter is that you finally realize knitting takes money and time, and your knitter will not be loaned out, nor pressed into servitude producing gifts for you to hand out. However… when your friends ogle your wonderful handknit and think that they’d like to “make one just like that”–do not volunteer your knitter to photocopy her pattern and hand it round! In most cases this is clear copyright violation and is tantamount to stealing money right out of the designer’s pocket. It doesn’t matter that your knitter “already has the pattern just sitting around”. It doesn’t matter that your knitter has a home copier. It doesn’t even matter that no one will know. It is wrong, and your knitter will not do it and then you will have to explain to all your friends that they won’t be getting a freebie pattern after all. ps– if you ask nicely, I’m sure your knitter will be happy to tell you where she purchased her pattern, and then your friends can go buy their own copy.

Chapter 10: Respect the Yarn Store

1. If you go into a yarn store, browse all you want. ENJOY all the yummy yarns you want, but please do NOT tell me you can get it cheaper at a craft store or on the net. ALSO, please don’t come in, ask me to help you find something, then ask for a piece of paper and pen so you can write the yarn info down because you “buy all my yarns on E-bay.”

Chapter 11: Template for Those Who Don’t Want You to Knit for Them

1. “My beloved (wife/husband/girlfriend/partner/mum/sister) I am so impressed by your new found enthusiasm for (knitting/crochet/spinning/buying yarn and going ‘oooh’) and I deeply respect and cherish this. When you said last night that you wanted to make me a (hat/scarf/sweater/pair of socks/really nice pair of fingerless gloves you saw on Knitty) and you had already picked out some (Malabrigo/Wollmeise/Sundara/exotic sounding fibre that makes you go all obsessive and slightly scary) for it, I was filled with great love for you. However, I have a (yarn allergy/dislike of knitted items/dislike of items that can’t be machine washed and dried/phobia of handcraft dating back to a nasty incident in my youth involving a darning needle) and I fear that whatever you make for me, I will find it too hard to enjoy the end product. I recognise that your willingness to include me on your list of people to knit for makes me the luckiest person alive, and I am filled with love right now, but I would not want you to spend all that (time/effort/money/stash) making something for me that I am too (ignorant/careless/weird) to appreciate. Instead, why not (buy yourself some yarn/sit down and put your feet up while I make dinner/enjoy these chocolates I bought you) and knit something for yourself so I can admire you in it?”

I think perhaps it is a sad state of affairs when the world in general needs to be reminded of some basic, common courtesy.  Some of these rules are things that perhaps your knitter wanted to say, but was too polite to do so.

Part of the reason I find these so amusing is that I have been a knitter for 8 or 9 years and in all that time, with about 45 FOs (or completed projects, to the non-knitters), I have ONE SCARF that I made for myself.  One.  It is therefore high time I take some time to knit FOR ME.  I love to knit, I find it soothing, I enjoy creating things with my hands, and it makes me very happy when someone genuinely likes something I've made for them.  My sisters and mother, all recipients of hand-knitted projects of mine, are always enthusiastic about what they've gotten.  But I think it is time for the person who appreciates my work the most (i.e. ME) to have a few things I've made.  

Selfish?  Maybe.  Ask me if I care.

I'm knitting, and I can't stop!

(chanted to the tune of that old telly commercial, I've fallen, and I can't get up!)

At the end of 2008, I declared to a group of fiber fanatic friends that 2009 was going to be the year of Lucy knitting for Lucy.

And as we all know, whenever you make a declarative statement like that, the universe conspires against you and manages to tell you, "SCREW YOU!" ala comedian Jeff Dunham & Walter.

First came the invitation for a baby shower. One of my employees from my old non-profit is having a baby, and I got an invitation to the baby shower mostly because I ran into her recently. Not that I object to buying her a present, or celebrating the birth of her son; I don't. But I'd rather give her something hand-knitted than some plastic-y thing or gift certificate. So I quickly knitted her two baby hats; a small one for a newborn, and a slightly larger one for when he gets bigger.

Then, there was a phone call at work one day from DH telling me that friends of ours in Chicago are also expecting. Since I began knitting in about 2001, DH has done nothing but poke fun at me for doing an "old-lady" craft. He also likes to harass me about how long it takes for something to be finished; the line - and he knows how much this annoys me, which is why he does it - is "Aren't you done with that YET?"

But the moment he found out about the Chicago people, he asked me to make them a blanket. I'm inclined to turn him down on principle alone, or at least to harass back about how sure, now, now he LIKES my knitting. Suuure. But I'm not that bitchy. Or at least not all the time.

The thing is that it takes about 6 weeks to make a baby blanket, and I really don't want to take that much time out of selfishly knitting for myself. (sidebar: >_< goodness, that sounds harsh.)

Of course, it makes me feel guilty to even think such a thing, let alone say it out loud. I'm sure that I will end up making something for them, more than some-THING, probably a blanket, hats, a baby sweater....even though I've kind of sworn off garments, because the last sweater I made took me six years, no exaggeration, no joke.

I was cruising a friend's queue on Ravelry, and I saw a Scandinavian designer's pattern that I thought was pretty, but as it was a long duster-style cardigan, way, way, way too much work for me. (FYI- Ravelry = social networking site for knitters, kind of like MySpace with patterns. Queue = list of patterns/projects stored on Rav that you would like to make.) Because this particular designer was Scandinavian, and Fair Isle (scandinavian-style) knitting amazes me, I had to look at what else she's designed. Which brought me to this.

Photocredit goes to Tirku, I do not own this picture.  I just love it, admire it, and want, want, want, want to make one for myself.

She blogs in Finnish and English.  Here is the post about the sweater.  Since it appeared in Vogue Knits magazine in the Fall 2008 edition, the pattern is no longer online.  I bought the mag from the publisher; I do hope that she was well compensated by them for it.  (n.b., I just realized it sounds like I resent paying for the pattern.  Allow me to be clear: I do NOT.  I'm happy to pay for it.   I just hope she gets residuals or something from me purchasing the back issue.)

I don't love the color in the picture; the blog post picture is a vivid kelly green that I'm not a fan of either.  I can't wear either color, so no, I won't be making it that hue.  I'm also not a huge fan of hoodies; my sisters both love them, but meh.  Just not my thing.  There are numerous examples on Ravelry of people who have made them without the hood, and I intend to do the same.  In fact, over 400 people on Rav have started this project, and the reviews are positive, that it knits up quickly.  This may just bring me back to knitting actual clothes.  Maybe.

In the meantime, until my copy of Vogue Knitting Fall 2008 gets here, I'm searching for an easy baby blanket pattern.  Sigh.

Traits of Strangers

DH and I were out to breakfast when someone at a table adjacent to us asked if we'd managed to score tickets to the hottest event in town.  No, I told him.  Even if we'd been interested in the event (and we're not) we wouldn't have purchased tickets.  Much too expensive.  He and DH discussed it for a few seconds, I went back to reading the paper.

After the man left, DH raised his eyebrows and asked me if I had ever randomly struck up a conversation with someone in a restaurant.  Being an extrovert, talkative, and wildly curious, (ummm....read that nosy) of course I have.  

People-watching is a sport, one I thoroughly enjoy.  When I've noticed that someone is people-watching me, I usually just allow it, ignoring whomever it is.

I was out at a coffee hangout with a small group of fiber-fanatic friends for an evening of knitting and networking (also otherwise known as gossiping) and I noticed a woman in a nearby chair watching us.  We're loud, opinionated, have a very good time together, and, I imagine,  a great deal of fun to watch.

My birthday just passed, and since I hadn't seen my friends before my big day, they had presents for me.  Lovely presents were opened, and our observer giggled right along with us as I laughed over the choices my friends had made for me.  A knitting book I'd wanted, but been too cheap to spend the money on.  A pound of coffee with a vanity label, hysterically funny.  Stitch markers from Hide & Sheep, a company whose name amuses me to no end.

When the presents were put away and the needles pulled out, she gave up pretending that she wasn't paying attention to us and asked outright what we were doing.  We invited her to pull up a chair and give the knitting a shot, and she did.  

We proudly showed off our individual projects, talked about how each of us had learned to knit, showed her things we'd made that we happened to be wearing.  As we talked, we discovered a kindred spirit.  Someone whose political leanings were in our direction, whose sense of humor mirrored our twisted own.  What began as an evening of just our little insular group grew by one, and the evening was richer for the experience.

We exchanged telephone numbers and e-mail addresses when the baristas looked like they were going to kill us if we stayed for just one more minute, inviting her to join our knitting group that meets monthly.  Oh, she said, there are more of you?  Laughingly, we explained that we're just a clique of the larger group, and that not everyone is as cool as we are.  Or so we think, legends in our own minds that we are.

I kept thinking, though, about how even the most extroverted of us don't usually walk up to a group of boisterous strangers and ask to join in.   And even the most friendly of us might not be receptive to someone "barging in" to a gathering of friends.

I'm glad she did.  I'm glad we were.  And I hope she comes to our larger monthly gathering.  Time will tell.

Yarn-related ranting and some non-sequiturs.

I love knitting with big, bulky yarns.  Bulky yarns, according to standards provided by the Yarn Craft Council of America, are yarns that knit 6-11 stitches to 4 inches.  The smallest category, for those readers who are not fiber fanatics, lace weight, can be as many as 40 stitches to 4 inches.  Bulky yarn should be knit on big needles, size 11 (8 mm) and larger.  

I am not a fan of lace weight yarn and teeny-tiny needles.  I know knitters who think that my size 7 (4.5 mm) needles are "huge".  No, size 7s are small.  I knitted a shrug for my sister on size 7s; that sucker took me 5-1/2 MONTHS to knit.  Urgh.  I want to make things that are finished a little more quickly than 5 months.  And maybe next time I knit that same pattern (for ME!) it might go more quickly, because I'm familiar with the pattern.  But making things that take eons...just not my style.

Sadly, I realize that I am indeed part of the instant gratification everything-all-the-time set.  Wonder if my obsessive-compulsive disorder has anything to do with that.

Back in March when I visited my sister in New York City, she took me to a wooooonderful yarn store in Brooklyn on Atlantic Avenue, Knit-a-Way.  My sister is a great one for monopolizing my knitting time; she sends me patterns via e-mail or links via instant message, asking if I can make whatever it is for her.  She has 3 hats, a scarf, and a shrug of my making.  I'm not complaining, I'm usually thrilled to accommodate her, and she is always appropriately excited about the finished projects.  2009, however, will be the year of me knitting for ME.

At Knit-A-Way, sis picked out some very yellow yarn for me to use to make a hat for her.  Manufactured by an Italian company (di.Ve Fiamma) and imported by Cascade yarns, the 100% wool was surprisingly a delight to work with.  Surprisingly because 100% wool makes me itch like crazy.  I can not wear wool next to my skin in a sweater or trousers without at least one layer of cotton between me and the wool.  I think my skin is hypersensitive to wool.  I've worked with wool before that made my hands itch from holding it.  But this didn't make me itch.  The pattern I chose for my the hat was probably part of the reason that I enjoyed working with the yarn.  I like the pattern so well that I've made 2 more hats with the same pattern and have a third on needles, not done.

I've searched locally for more di.Ve, and while one local store does carry many of Cascade Yarn's products, di.Ve isn't one on their list.  They're quite happy to order it for me, with me paying the shipping, and a bit of an elevated price.  Thank you, but no.  Not that I don't want them to make money, I do.  I support local merchants whenever possible.  But this stuff is expensive at the MSRP.  Adding to the cost makes it worse, and paying shipping adds insult to injury if you ask me.  

So I've watched eBay and searched on Ravelry for people willing to part with di.Ve that they already own.  Found some, and the person was willing to part with it for a very reasonable price.  In our exchange of e-mails, I mentioned the trouble I have had trying to track this stuff down, and she informed me that many of the Fiamma colors are no longer manufactured.  What?!?  WTF?  Turns out that with the rising cost of, oh, EVERYTHING, bulky yarns are getting too expensive for local yarn stores (hereafter referred to as LYS) to buy and carry on inventory, and so buyers for the yarn stores are purchasing less, and money talks, people.  Bulky yarns tend to be expensive, and so to purchase enough of it to make, say, a sweater or a full-size afghan, you'd be breaking the bank.  The volume that your LYS sells, then, is much diminished from the volume of finer gauge yarns.  Result?  The LYS doesn't have a lot of bulky yarn.  Boooo!  Boooo!

On to the non-sequiturs, then.

I went to the doctor's office, my usual family doc, to get a flu shot.  Yes, yes, you're supposed to get that in October or November, but I didn't.  I plead laziness and lack of time.  I'm leaving for Florida in a week and the flu is making the rounds there, so I wanted to make sure I finally got one.  The entire collective office where I work has also been passing a viral infection around.  Fun.  Yeah.  Like a hole in the head.

I hate waiting in doctor's offices, but usually manage to stay calm by knitting or reading.  Several of the other folks waiting were really pissy about their wait, making lots of passive-aggressive remarks.  Equally as annoying as waiting, if you ask me.

When I finally got called back, the exam room where the nurse was waiting with the shot had a framed bit of advertising from a drug company advertising medication that treats an extreme form of sleep apnea.  Like many of these posters, there was a checklist of questions to ask yourself, and the oh-so-helpful tag line that if you answered yes to three or more of these questions, you should talk to your doctor about this apnea thing.  These kind of things are bad for me, because I am a major hypochondriac.  So I try to look at these posters with a humorous eye, not with an omigod I'm going to die eye.  That said, the list intrigued me.

Waking up with headaches.  Check.

Sleepiness during the day.  Check.  My caffeine consumption has gone up A LOT recently.

Chocking sensation while sleeping, waking up coughing.  Check.

Excessive or very loud snoring.  Check.  DH claims I snore.  I know he snores, lots.  Dunno if I do, really, but I believe him because my dad snores.  

Hmm.  Something to think about.  Maybe the headaches have more to do with something outside of my usual litany of suspects; hormones, weather, ciggy smoke, stress.

Self-stressors

Even though my family has declared a moratorium on gifts for the holidays this year, and DH and I managed to convince his family that we should all just buy for the kiddos, that does not mean I'm exempt from the gift-giving madness.  Which is OK, mostly, because I like doing nice things for people during the month of December.

But I decided earlier this year (maybe....August?) that I could manage to make something for everyone that I work with AND my friends, knitted somethings.  As soon as I made the decision, I started knitting.  Part of the method of my madness, too, is that I'd like to use up some of my stashed yarn.  (stash yarn = Ravelry-speak for yarn that you already own, most likely stashed in boxes or plastic bins about your house.)  I'm making good progress and using up yarn I've had for years and years.  I've made several scarves, a handful of dishcloths and face-scrubbie wash cloths.  The wash cloths are small, and I put a little bar of handmade soap (not soap *I* make, c'mon, I'm not that nuts) in the middle of the washcloth, take a complimentary yarn and run it through the 4 corners, tie it up, and it makes a cute little packet.  Easy, easy, easy present, takes no more than an hour to knit one.

So why am I stressing over it?  

The main reason is that like almost everything in my life, I have defined parameters, rules about the knitting.  I don't allow myself to have more than about 3 projects on needles, because it makes me f-ing batty if I've got too many projects going.  It stresses me more than I need to be stressed.  

How many projects are on needles right now?  

1. a scarf 

2. a hat 

3. a washcloth 

4. and 5. baby blankets (although those shouldn't count because I'm not actively working on them)  

6. another hat, 

7. a shrug that is 99% done, and 

8. a shawl I started last night and then ripped apart because I can't figure out the pattern.  

There's another scarf that I don't have on needles yet, but it is my next project, swirling around in the back of my heard.  Urgh.  That'd be 9.  Then I have two skeins of a soft yet sparkly yarn that I plan to make hats with, one red and one black.  I can't wait to get started on them.  Which, for those keeping track, would be 11 projects.  It is with the crazy-making.

There are not enough hours in the day to get them all done.  

And then I have to figure out when (and what) I'm going to bake for the people I give cookies to every year.....

Att sticka

Swedish, verb: to knit

Earlier in the year, I thought that my enthusiasm for knitting would wane with the oncoming summer months, as the weather warmed I'd be less than excited about carrying 'round some knit project, whatever it may be.

Instead, I am spending lots more time knitting. I'm actively trying to win converts to knitting. I have this nutsy-koo-koo idea that I should, between now and the Winter Solstice, be able to make enough dishcloths, scarves, hats, even a shawl or two, to give as holiday presents to friends and co-workers. My family has declared a moratorium on gifting this year; we're going to be together in Florida for a week, and that is present enough. But that does not mean that I'm exempt all together from the insanity that envelops the western world come December, the frenzy of shopping, wrapping, entertaining, running around like a lunatic in a frantic effort to get everything done before December 24.

I feel obliged to mention that although I am an atheist, most of the rest of my friends and family are not, and I would never diminish their joy in this holiday. I'm not one of those nuts who snarls at you when you wish me a "Merry Christmas." I like finding gifts for those I love, year-round. But the Christmas season is the only time in the West that you can give someone an extravagant gift, or do something profoundly nice, and it isn't a big deal. It is almost expected. I bake, hundreds of cookies every year, and give them to people that I want to give gifts to, but don't want to buy anything....like my hairdresser. The paper-delivery person. (If I had one, which I don't.) Volunteers, at my old non-profit job. People that deserve a 'thank you' and would feel uncomfortable accepting something at any other time of the year.

So of course, I have a mental list of the persons that I need to make things for: co-workers...hmmm....counting our interns, volunteer staff, and full-time staffers, that's 14 people. In-laws....7. Friends....some real-world, some inside the computer....at least 15, and I'm sure I'm leaving someone out.....

Holy shit! No wonder I'm spending most of my free time with needles in hand rather than writing. My math skills are poor, but I used a calculator to add all that up, and I count at least 36 things to knit.

Guess I'd better get to the knittin', eh?

Freak/Geek

Gabbing online to some friends the other night, I mentioned how I was having trouble finding the specific yarn my sister wants me to use to make this, a lovely shrug. She wants a silvery grey bamboo, and I've had no luck on Ravelry or on any one of the (count them) fifteen knitting supply sites I have bookmarked.

"Have you tried Etsy?" asks Stef.

"No, never heard of it," says Lucy.

"Linkage: www.etsy.com" says Stef.

Eeep. Not that I needed another online knitting community to look at/participate in/spend money on. But I've seldom had bad recommendations for websites from my online peeps, so I trundled over to check it out.

Bad move.

Immediately, I found 3 suppliers of hand-spun bamboo yarns that have silvery-grey hand-dyed hanks of goodness.

Expensive, because the process is labor-intensive. Pretty, too. Only trouble, as I saw it....well, there were two. One, the lack of funds? We remember this part, yeah? Where I was job-hunting because I wasn't making ANY money? Two, most of the yarn-makers I found on Etsy specialize in sock yarn, much too small of a gauge for what I want to make. 8-9 stitches to the inch on size 2.5mm needles? I'd take me the rest of my life to make a shrug on needles that small.

The patience, Lucy has not so much.

But as I paged through 22 pages of bamboo yarn, I found this lovely-ness.


The freak part comes here: the yarn-maker has called this Battlestar Gallactica yarn, and in the description of the properties of the yarn is a paragraph about why the hell she named it thusly: she's a fan of BSG, and the colors correspond to things in the show. She's not the freak, though, you must understand that. I am, because not only did I read and understand the explanation, I agree with it. Dude, I don't even watch that show. There is no Jensen, therefore there is no point.

Here's the geek part: it isn't even close to enough yarn to make the shrug, being about 120 yards less than what I would need. Doesn't really matter, I wanted it. Even if she hadn't made the pop culture reference, I would have thought the colors were uber-cool anyway. And I'm fascinated by the blend of materials, bamboo, alpaca, and wool. I'm full of questions about how'd they do that? Did it take a long time? Was it a plan, or did the design just end up working this way?

Total dork. Or, y'know, just enthusiastic. Take your pick.

Sun-Run

I will be offline for a while, as DH and I are heading to Flo-ree-da to see my parents. I can't wait to see them, and I'm looking forward to much better weather for a few days.

While I'm gone, I leave two little games for you to play. With! Prizes! My own version of the pay it forward game. The two winners will get a knitted something, shipped to them within the next 365 days. Knitting still takes me a while, and I have a project or two ahead of this. The knitted 'thing' will be of my choice of color, style, et cetera. Could be a scarf. Or a hat. Or a dishcloth. Or a lap blankie. (full size adult blankets take too freaking long) Winning means that you must be willing to give me your real name and address so that I may send you this knitted thing. The catch? If you win, you must also pass on two handmade somethings within the next year. Doesn't have to be anything fancy, heck, could even be a batch of cookies that you give to your neighbor.

The first is a caption competition. Finish the sentence below for the perfect caption for the following lovely picture.


Dick Cheney always looks constipated because_____________________.


The next one is a spot the difference. Tell me what the difference is between the following two pictures:








The two entries that most entertain me will win. I'm the judge, and my decisions will be final. It *is* MY blog, after all. You may enter either contest or just one or the other, whichever you prefer.

Best of luck! I'll be back towards the end of April.

F.O.

phrase, "eefff" "oh" used on Ravelry as an abbreviation for Finished Object, a completed knitting/crochet project.

(And here you thought that I was going to be obscene and foul-mouthed, didn't ya? HA! Fooled ya!)

This? I knitted this. This is a sweater. One that I knitted. Laid out on my dining room table. Did I mention I knitted it? It only took me 6 years. Seriously.

This is a detail shot of the bottom left corner. The pattern has the sweater knitted in one large piece, with the sleeves attached later. The border is garter stitched, knitted every row. The body is stockinette stitch, thus the difference in the textures.

The sleeves were knitted separately, and then joined to the body, then, finally, sewn into round sleeves. I made a mistake on the first sleeve, adding a few extra rows of garter stitches after the solid color border. (See the second section of bumpy stitches, in the variegated blue/light blue? Right there, that's a mistake.) Rather than admit that I screwed up, and rip back ten rows, I kept the mistake, and repeated it on the second sleeve. I can't follow a pattern as written to save my soul. Sigh. That's my Type B personality side coming out; I want to put my own personal spin on everything I touch.

My stitches are nice, though.

I learned how to knit in one series of classes, a six week session. In the fall of 2002. That was Knitting 101. Knitting 201 was to putting those stitches learned to practical application, making a sweater. I finished most of the body of the sweater during Knitting 201, but wasn't even close to finishing the whole thing.

I knitted the sleeves while in Europe in 2003.

And there it sat, for the next 5 years.

We moved house, and it moved with us. It has been sitting in a basket in my bedroom for the last 3 years, where I saw it, unfinished, every single darned day. This winter, as I've been knitting like a house on fire, I've thought nearly every weekend, "I'll finish that sweater this weekend. Right after the laundry/dishes/dusting/cooking is done."

Finally, yesterday, I began the last few steps, by sewing the shoulder seams. And then sewing the arms into place, and lastly, closing up the sleeves. The very last detail was knitting the collar, which I did today.

Now two things remain. One, to wash it. I always wash F.O.s before I give them away, or wear them. My thought is that I've carried whatever the F.O. is around for as little as a few weeks to as long as a few years, and it is bound to be dirty. So each thing I make gets a hand wash and drip-dry, no matter what the yarn's washing instructions may be, even if it is safe to wash in the washing machine, a hand-wash is what happens the first time around.

Two is to decide WTF to do with it. When I cast it on to the needles, the intention was that the sweater was for me. After looking at it for the past 6 years, I no longer like it very much.

So perhaps I ought to give it away.

But it is rather poorly made, not at all to my usual standard, as I knit it not long after learning how to knit. Your skill level improves with time and practice, practice, practice. I am a much better knitter now than I was in 2001. (If I do say so myself!)

The mistakes are myriad. The sleeves don't match up to the body of the garment well, the collar is uneven, there were holes here and there until I wove in the loose ends and fixed those spots with spurious sewn stitches. Those are all relatively minor; the biggest problem is the underarm portion of each sleeve. There are two huuuuge spots where I had to make major corrections when piecing it together that resulted in big gathers at each armpit. You can't see it when wearing the garment, but you can feel it. The worst part is not how it looks when turned inside out, the worst part is that *I* know the screw-ups are there. That really bothers me. (That's my Type A personality part showing itself.)

Last of all is the fact that it really and truly did take me six years to finish. I do believe that this sweater will be the first and LAST sweater I'll ever make. Unless we're talking about making an infant sized sweater, which would be much, much smaller. The whole experience wasn't very positive, so why should I try it again? I like my knitted hats, scarves, and other small projects like baby blankets that don't need blocking, piecing together, and such painstaking accuracy.

At least, that's what I'll think until I find a tantalizing yarn, like the GGH Vamos I bought in Brooklyn, which might make a nice sweater.....