Welcome 2013

Since I ended 2012 with a "Year in Review", it would be fitting that I start 2013 in the same vein as 2012.

Welcome 2013!

Since we missed spending both Christmas AND New Year's together last year, our strategy and planning actually worked this year.  Eric managed to get the 24th off, as well as New Year's eve and day.  Things were going to work out for us, after all.

After a scrumptious New Year's Eve party at friends, we fell into bed at 2 AM.  One thing I have discovered over the years is 1) control rich food intake, and 2) ditto for alcohol consumption.    While I behaved last night, if you can call eating foie gras, scampi bisque and beef Wellington "behaving", I was also the designated driver, since Eric is most always the designated drunk.  (He's French, he can't help it.  Plus I think he deserves it - he's always shafted on weekends and holidays.)  But going to bed late throws me off, and waking up close to 10AM is the closest I come to feeling hung-over and jet-lagged.

Today, I need a nice blanket, a hot fire, and lots of mineral water.  Tomorrow, after a good night's sleep, I'll probably recover.

In 2012, I resolved to not buy any more wool and finish everything I start.  To say that resolution crashed-and-burned is an understatement.  I bought wool, I was given wool, and while lots of little projects flew off the needles, the biggest project I finished was my neutral Saga:

It's been finished for months, (despite the fact it languished for many more...) and when I finally threw it on and asked Eric to take a photo of me in it, this is what he handed me:

My ass, in digital form.  My husband, either not clear on the concept, or forever the joker, I know not which but I forgive him for both.  Thanks sweetheart.  At least it's proof my thighs don't touch.  I'm telling you, all the walking I do is paying off.

Now, since this is my second Saga, I did a few things differently.  I made a large this time, and added repeats to make the sleeves longer.  Despite using the same needle size for the seed-stitch border, it turned out a bit wavy, but I haven't blocked this baby yet, so that feature might block out.  Either way, I actually like the wavy, somewhat flared look.  I have monkey arms, so I added a few row repeats in strategic places on the sleeves as well as the yoke, so they're longer and not 3/4 like the pattern is written for.  I also wanted a large because I knew I'd be wearing this over my regulation gray cashmere sweaters which I wear like a uniform in winter months.  I've got them in all shapes, shades and styles.  The only prerequisite is that they're gray, and cashmere.  I aim high.  I always say, if I'm gonna be cleaning my house, I'm gonna be doing it in cashmere.  Take that, Mr. Clean!

I stalled on how to finish the front.  I didn't want frog-clasps like the first one, but something different.  It took me a few months to figure out what that "different" was.  Finally, I made a rolled garter stitch border, sewed it on the inside, and added buttons on both sides, all closed with a simple crochet loop:

The inside of this sweater is as nice as the outside.  I will be in love with lopi forever.  Here's a closer look at the closure:

Perfect it isn't, because it's not exactly wind-proof, but I was aiming more for look than practicality.  At some point, I'd procrastinated about this sweater so long, I just wanted it finished.  Job done, moving right along...

I blogged about my Blue Hole shawl which provided hours and hours of fun:

However, I didn't blog about the Vancouver Fog fingerless mitts done in Lana Gatto camel hair (seemingly on liquidation the world over and fabulous stuff!) and a cabled hat from Rowan book 48 called the Tinker Hat that I completely re-wrote.  I didn't do anything the pattern called for in the end.  I cast-on 96 stitches instead of 109 going down 2 full needle sizes, knit it in the round instead of seaming (who does that? who seams a freaking hat?) and winged every single crown decrease.  I also used only one ball instead of two, following some helpful tips on Ravelry.  I love this hat, it fits perfectly and is super-warm despite being loosely knit.  I love me some Rowan Cocoon, but I don't love me the price...but this being a one-skein project given my mods, I can easily justify the cost.

I cannot however justify the cost of the Sweet Georgia I ordered to make the Colour Affection shawl.  Not realizing it's dyed to order and the delivery time was 6 weeks, by the time I received my order, my love affair with the pattern had faded away like lust is wont to do.  Now this wool is languishing in a Rubbermaid bin in the laundry room.  Not even cast on, this wonderful wool might need to find another vocation.  So much for my 2012 resolutions.

Likewise, I fell in love with Kate Davie's Rams and Yowes on a whim.  Kate knows how to write a pattern, and Jamieson and Smith Shetland could be my antidote to lopi, I'm that much in love with it.   Again, total impulse purchase, but the project is still chugging ahead:

I've got 924 stitches on 3 circulars and can't hope to take a picture that makes sense, but it's turning into a work of art.

The border, which will be doubled, is a ton of work.  I've turned the corner and am now decreasing, so I'm on the downhill slope.  Busy bashing away on this baby, I hope to have a photo of my completed lap-blanket before long.  And I promise to keep my finger away from the "BUY NOW" button, and keep my Mastercard firmly in my wallet when it comes to buying more wool on-line.  You heard it here first.

In the interim, the days are getting longer, and we've probably gained a half-hour of daylight since the solstice just over 10 days ago.  Once again, the setting sun casts a shadow of the house against the side of the barn, and in minutes, I know I'll see the moon rise from behind the barn.  Despite the fact it's a bone-chilling -14C outside right now, with a wind-chill that would freeze exposed flesh in minutes (there's always a downside, isn't there though?), it's that time of year for reflections on the past and hopes for the future.  

So, with a click of the mouse, I'll turn the page on 2012, and open the book that is 2013.

My hopes are that everyone can experience the peace and gratitude that I feel, from the moment I pull up the blinds and find another fresh day waiting for me outside.  From the time I put my head on my pillow at night, resting with the knowledge I've done my best and accomplished something, no matter how inconsequential it seemed at the time.  From the knowledge that I've been kind and good and smiled and laughed, done a small favour or a big one, I appreciate my life, plywood floors and all.

Here's to 2013.  May it exceed our expectations.  May you all be able to see the gold instead of the snow.

Uh oh, BobCat's Helping Knit again...

...and he's got his partner in crime he's trying to teach the ropes to:

Tessie is more interested in the camouflage aspect of my new Saga.  Yes, that's right, my new Saga.  I've knit another one, but this one is less "saga" than the first one.  Let's just say I still had a bit of momentum on from the last one.  This is the neutral version, and I'm in looooove.

I need just a day or so more to finish it, but it's coming along, and I won't stop until it's finished.

My knitting resolution for 2012 is going to stick, I hope!

Zen and the Art of Steeking

(Or how not to make a mountain out of a knitted molehill).

The thought of cutting into a perfectly good knitted item to insert a sleeve or zipper strikes fear into most knitter's hearts.  Knitting books wax melodramatic about this, describing that you'd need to go lie down in a dark room with a cold compress, or have a glass of wine or three post-steeking.  I'm here to tell you it's not that bad.

Have that wine before you steek, and you'll see just how swimmingly it will go.  (Actually, we have a saying in our knitting group:  friends don't let friends knit drunk.  When someone brings that up, we all laugh, raise our glasses in a toast and put down our knitting.  Don't tell our husbands, but I think they're on to us already...)

That aside, here's what I learned from my first steeked Lopi project:

You don't need more than 3 steek stitches to work with.  I had 4 and all that amounted to was a waste of wool.  Next time, I'm using only 3.  Purl these 3 steek stitches, which leads me to my next tip:

When you come to your first steek stitch, purl it into the back of the loop.   This will twist the stitch and tighten up the previous knit stitch, namely your last knit stitch before the steek.  It's not imperative, but it does create a nicer, tighter finish.  You'll notice in the photo below, the last knitted stitch before the steek is a bit loose.  (In the photo below, I have pulled all my ends to the front of the steek so they wouldn't get caught in the sewing machine foot inadvertently).  Next time, I'm purling that first steeked stitch through the back of the loop.  No more loosey-goosey edge stitches.  I wish I knew that before, but there you have it.  Live and learn.

If you're changing colour on the row, it's sufficient to purl the central stitch (i.e. your second steek stitch) using both old and new colours together.  My particular Lopi pattern was well-charted, and even told you which colour to make the first and last steek stitch.  I just followed the instructions and it became quite clear after a few rows that there is some rhyme and reason to the colour logic.  This also meant if you're changing from colour A and B to colour C and D for example, you won't have more ends than necessary to weave in.  (As it was, this particular sweater was akin to the End Weaving-in Festival - there weren't a few ends to weave in, there must've been a hundred!)

This weaving needle from my knitting arsenal proved beneficial.  It's so easy to thread, it made quick work of all those pesky ends:

I remember buying these at Zeller's, three different sizes to the pack.  They are distributed by H. A. Kidd in Toronto, and if you ever come across this item, buy a few packs.  They're cheap, and you can dole them out to fellow knitters when they remark what a great idea it is.

Here's a look at the back of the sweater, and the photo that made me realize I should have just knit the whole bloody thing as a pullover and saved myself some agony:

Ain't she purty?  I'm really happy with this project, and it's not even finished yet!  (Yes, I know I threatened to have it finished by July 21).  Deadlines, schmedlines...

Since my Dad has an ancient Lopi cardigan, I thought I'd borrow it and have a gander at how it was finished.  (There's nothing like reverse engineering...)

Behold, here are the machine stitches hidden by the crocheted-on border:

See how the wool's been cut close to the machine stitched line?  This sewed edge will ensure that all the wool is held together.  Lopi's tough wool; it'll hold, and once the crocheted or knitted edge is on, the ends are going nowhere.  If you're a sewer, you'll also notice the size of the stitch, as well as the tension.  The stitch is relatively large, and the tension is loose; if your sewing is tighter, you'll risk distorting your sewn and cut edge.

Here's a look at the crocheted border on this sweater:

Still, I'm not sure if I'll crochet a border or make a knitted I-cord edge.  I have all of fall to think about that, don't I?  And yes, Delusional is my middle name, now that you mention it.

Here's a look at the edge, post-sewing, pre-cutting.  Instructions said to sew up each edge twice.  I follow instructions, ergo, we have 2 rows of stitches on either side of the steek:

I had to sew these from the bottom edge up toward the neck.  Somehow, logic dictated I should sew both seams from the neck down, but try doing that on a sewing machine.  Ain't gonna happen - I had to feed it from the bottom up.

And yet another, post-cutting showing the nice, straight edge.  So far, so good:

So, why isn't the damn sweater finished already, you may be asking?  Well, I tried a couple of variations of crocheted edges.  None of them were quite up to snuff.  I changed wool colours, I changed crochet hook sizes, but I wasn't satisfied with any of the permutations.  And then, (how these things happen is a total mystery to me), the two skeins of wool I intended to use were run through the washing machine by accident:

Yarn barf extraordinare, people.  That's why the freakin' sweater's not finished yet!  I'm blaming the cat, yeah, the cat...

So stay tuned for the never-ending Saga of the Saga.  One knitted I-cord edge, coming right up!  This one will be in a different colour.  Now if only I could remember where I placed that skein for safe keeping, I'd be one step ahead!

Maybe I should go interrogate the cats...