One of those days...

Ever had one of those days where you just... lose something? Where you know it's not really gone gone, but it's skittered off to some hidey-hole where you won't find it until you stop searching?

Uh-huh. I'm having one of them right now. There's a pristine little gauge swatch on my ironing board as we speak, but... my stupid friggin' measuring tape is off having a night on the town (I assume).

Measuring tape, if you're out there-- whatever I said, I didn't mean it. Just come back.

Some Days, You Need a Very Big Scarf

It's not precisely the season for outdoor photo shoots. It was just a couple degrees above freezing when I went out to take this shot (in, because I am practical, my leaky shoes and no sweater to speak of), and starting to rain (or is it sleet? not heavily enough for me to decide), and of course, being just shy of 4:30, the sun is well convinced that I can't see it through the cloud cover. It's mostly right.

But really, that just means it's the perfect weather for wearing this.



I don't know what possessed me. The thing is four balls of Merino Stripes (the grey and charcoal colorway, I think 04, but I managed to lose all four wrappers), knit diagonally, and just shy of 9 feet long. If I throw it around my neck and don't wrap it anywhere, the edges drag on the ground. Honestly, there's only about a month out of the year when I can pretend to wear it. Mostly it wears me.

At the Gates of Madness

I've posted pictures of this before; it's the most popular pattern I've written for the yarn store. I've taught approximately six classes based around it (it teaches knitting on two circs, cables, kitchener, thumb gussets...) in the 5 months I've worked there. One of the women who took the class a couple months ago came in today, and told me that she's knitted seven pairs of these since the class.

This leaves me, which I think perhaps may be understandable, feeling validated.

Seven pairs.

Speaking of the shop, yarn has been awfully exciting lately. We donated a bunch of yarn we've stopped carrying, and brought in loads new more stuff... several series of Sublime yarns, Queensland Kathmandu Aran (a lovely tweed, soft enough I might even knit with it), Happy Feet, some new Jo Sharp yarns, some crimped baby camel... we also (finally) got in the 01 (white) color of Urban Silk. I'd been hankering after that since Skacel gave us samples of it, but it was on back-order for a long while. I've had a pair of gloves stewing in the back of my mind for months, and they will presumably be quickly reproduced in that.

Sock yarn has been too enchanting to me recently. I haven't been buying, but ah, the temptation when we got in some bamboo-silk-superwash blends. Somehow this sock lust has percolated from the back of my mind into one little, obstinate thought: what law mandates I knit socks in pairs? What's wrong with one-offs, as long as I have enough one-offs to alternate on both feet?

This way lies madness.

Bacon Scramble

Yes, bacon.*

It's an inexcusably bad shot, but my excuse -nonetheless- is that it's very hard to get an indoor shot of a slice of seven-foot long scarf, low on fat.**

Anyway. The dirty details: the scarf was crocheted from three skeins of Berocco Ultra Alpaca (2 reds, one white), plus some odds and ends of off-white I had lying around, on a size K hook. Nice and loose, but not too lacy. A gift for a close friend who cannot eat pork products for religious reasons. I couldn't explain all the elaborate in-jokes that have touched on this if I tried, but I'll give you this: I picked up the hook when he sent me a link to an image of bacon chocolate chip cookies.

I'm the kind of person who firmly believes in discordant taste combinations. But bacon chocolate chip cookies are -and I'm the official word on this, honest- wrong.

He gave me a package containing the communist party. And I mean that as literally as you can possibly imagine.

*Oh god oh god please ignore the rust splotch on my cast-iron crepe pan. It's gone now, and I've re-oiled the thing and hung it on its normal lonely hook in my kitchen.

**Someone mentioned in the comments that, if they crocheted, they'd be all over a bacon scarf. I didn't write up a chart, but after the fact I discovered a slice of bacon chart for knit or crochet. I hope that sets you on your bacony way.

Of Many Things and Holidays

I visited my family on the cusp of Portland, OR for the holidays. This, for those of you who don't know Portland, means one thing: yarn.

Well, it means a few things, actually. First of all, it means I spent a week with family. We keep things very simple (I've had it insinuated that our version of simple is "cheap"), and this year I either made things myself or bought handmade. More the latter, actually: I find more and more that I'm particular about who I knit for, since I've made a share of things I feel are unappreciated, even if they were specifically asked for. I know that's a popular sentiment right now, and I have to hold to it: knits are not for everyone.

Please ignore that I spent a day crocheting an enormous piece of bacon for a friend who may very well never wear it. That was different. I'll get pictures eventually.

This is about Portland, and yarn. The last of which, I didn't buy any of... well, okay. One skein whose originator I'd never heard of before. It will make beautiful socks. But I did go to two stores, and spent a great deal of time contemplating shelves of fibers with a sober face.

My first stop was at Close Knit. Close Knit is by far and way my favorite yarn store*-- friendly, helpful staff (who flattered my cowl, and I'm a sucker for flattery); cozy, crowded but not impossible to maneuver; great diversity of books; the gamut of yarn.

That's where I bought the sock yarn. I can't really go into that store without buying something. Guilt factor, mostly, after taking up an hour browsing and chatting (I'm also very goal-oriented when I shop. I don't browse well. Window-shop? Hahahaha). The diversity of yarns is exciting... they carry a number of brands I don't usually see in Seattle, and range the gamut from fairly cheap to qiviut.

The other store was Knit/Purl, closer to downtown. The staff offered the usual faintly indifferent front to a young knitter; I don't find that unexpected and wouldn't have noticed except that they (gender-neutral singular) greeted my non-knitter mother who came in a bit after me. Don't get me wrong, there was no rudeness-- I'm simply not someone they expected to drop money.

Which is what the store is going for. Money, that is. By which I mean they're trying for an upscale front. I could feel it from the layout-- so spread out that the square footage felt decadent. Not many places to sit. A mechanized swift (is this a mark for or against?). Generally "upscale" yarns (Tilli Thomas, Blue Heron, some interesting Schaeffer hand-dyed, lots of cashmere, etc). Very few general standbys, and nowhere near the diversity of Close Knit.

However, when they carry a brand, they carry it very, very thoroughly. I've never seen that much Tilli Thomas, Shi Bui, or Habu Textiles in one place. That was truly impressive. I've never seen Habu steel in the flesh -err, cone- before. There were Noro colorways I hadn't known existed. They also have a nice kit collection. It's not a place that will make my regular stomping grounds, although it and I will likely cross paths again, but it was well worth the look and a good place for someone who likes diversity of colorway and doesn't mind paying for it.



Now, I actually don't have a knitting book collection. I mean, I own a book on calculating my own socks (the esteemable Cat Bordhi, of course) and the Stitch and Bitch I bought when I was a knitter in Lion Brand swaddling. There's about six magazines on top of that, and a staple-bound Norah Gaughan collection. I generally don't buy patterns unless I adore them in a way that's a little unseemly.

However. I've had a fixation with the Japanese standard of craft patterns. I've never knit off one before, but I've read through enough to find that they appeal to my mechanical aesthetics: diagrams! step by step visual tutorials! Pictures of the very skeins the pattern calls for. And did I mention diagrams?

Yeah. That's why I bought these. Now, I like the patterns as well, mind, and have a few of them slated toward people I know, but the deciding factor here was a crochet diagram that I randomly flipped to and don't actually really want to work on.

*I don't count the one I work at in this equation, as that tips scales unfairly.

A Solitary Sock

This is not the time of year for photography. It's dark early and long, my apartment is no longer the recipient of even a bare smidgeon of sunlight, and frankly it's often too wet to take pictures even when there is a lightening in the grey sky.

Now, mind, this is one of my favorite times of year. It's just not cheap camera photography season.

So, only one picture exceptionally unpretty picture of a very lovely sock. It's one foot of Cookie A's Hedera pattern, knit in Maizy "deep rose."

I can't recommend Maizy enough. It's my favorite sock yarn to date-- a corn and nylon blend, springy and not scratchy in the slightest. That's relevant if you have picky feet like I do. I have the solitary sock on my foot as I write, because it's like warm and comfy and the slip-stitch heel I worked feels comfortably like a pillow. I won't be wearing that through soon.

Limulidae Cowl and Hat-- Available Now!

The winter edition of Knit on the Net went live today. And guess what's on the front page?

My "Limulidae" cowl and hat, as you can see.

The issue has some great patterns. I can't encourage you enough to look through it!

Also, I'd like to point out the advertisement card that Brenna kindly made for me. It has gears on it!

Ahem. I'm a little giddy today, but I'm blaming it on lunch (peppermint bark). A word about the name; I didn't choose Limulidae just to make the cowl and hat unpronounceable. That was the side-effect of the stitch pattern I modified. It's horseshoe lace, and when I think horseshoe, my mind turns to horseshoe crabs... from the family Limulidae.

Yes. I knit soft, warm, fuzzy things and name them after crustaceans. It's a little counter-intuitive.