Non-yarn knitting

Last night as I was wrapping up some felted-wool hearts I thought about how I could cut up some other sweaters less well-suited for sewing (some of them just don't felt tight enough) into long strips and then knit with them.

I do have some giant needles, and it might be fun to make, I don't know... a lap blanket? if I had enough to work with. Or a giant tea cosy?

Anyway I was thinking about that and then this morning I read this entry at Tiny Happy, after which the brilliant Margaret Oomen comments that she makes rag balls for knitting productive things out of old cotton sheets.

And now, of course, felted sweaters are just not good enough. My huge stash of gorgeous hand-dyed and hand-spun wools is - okay, it's more than good enough, and it's not like I don't have four pairs of socks on the needles and another to swatch.

Be that as it may, I am sufficiently suggestible to now wish I had some old cotton sheets to tear up. Though really, knitting with old cotton sheets would probably be one of those virtuous activities that feels good mostly because you know you're making something out of nothing, something useful, something kind of organic... and not because it's actually a pleasure to do.

Which makes me think that maybe what I love about knitting is the give and take of wool - the elasticity, the generosity, the partnership I form with the yarn to give it a new home far from the sheep it was raised on.

And thinking all that makes me think I need some more tea, and maybe a nice nap, before I go back to the socks.

Much rejoicing

Christmas 2009 is officially over because

I finished Carol's shawl!!!


Yes, it is true. And this is the only picture you're getting because even though it was super sunny yesterday it was also suuuuuper windy, rendering every other attempt to photograph it a vaguely triangular blur.

Now I am free to indulge myself with some Valentining, such as the little heart sachets I sewed all weekend while the shawl dried on its blocking mats - instructions at the link.

(but you know that what I am thinking while I do all that is how sensible it would be to start making things for next Christmas, so as to avoid the mayhem that was the 2009 and 2008 holiday seasons. Because, as I am sure you have noticed after reading even a little of this blog, I am a Very Sensible Girl.)

A portable knitting pouch

First off, I want to assure you I did work on Carol's shawl again yesterday. Quite a bit really, considering.

But I also sewed a little pouch for a friend who really needed one, inspired in part by my own wish for a pouch I can sling across my body and tuck knitting into.

You know, so I can cart my knitting around in a hands-free manner, and have it right there when I want to sit down with it, and also when I am between stirs of the soup or waiting for the current batch of cookies to finish their turn in the oven, or taking a nice peaceful walk down the street.

My friend's pouch came out pretty well, and seems to fit books and things quite nicely.

Of course, once I'd confirmed that fact I couldn't help testing to see whether it also holds knitting. I tested it with Carol's shawl, and had to pull it up out of the pouch to prove it was even in there.


It worked perfectly. Want to make one too?

Point me to the finish line

I have this crazy idea I can finish Carol's Christmas shawl before next Christmas, which is totally viable if I actually work on it (and not on the blue socks or the sewing projects lurking not quite as close as I'd like to the back of my mind.)

So for the last two days I've been Very Good and Made An Effort and yes, it is getting bigger and the ball of remaining yarn is getting smaller. Look - proof!


Also, proof that we had sun yesterday:


I find it interesting how lace can just look like a big jumble of meh even with the sun shining through it, and then you block it and it's swan time.

I will find that blocking part particularly interesting this time because it means I can go on to something else. Like lots of socks, maybe?

Beautifully blue

I cast on the blue socks that Karen is also knitting and ohhhh


I'm not sure whether I love the sock design more or less than


the way the blue merino from Midnight Sheep looks in the vintage red Pyrex bowl, or adorable complementariness of the tiny red bead stitch marker from Pennywenny.

I do know, however, that I am a very happy girl.

(who is still running very late on Carol's shawl.)

Hearting socks

I've been dreading February, not least because I still haven't finished my Christmas knitting. But there was an upside to February 1st:


Yep, it's another magical skein from the Biscotte et Cie sock club! I love the surprise of getting Vesper Sock Club yarn in the mail every month, but this is a different kind of fabulous: you get all three club skeins in one shipment, and then you have to wait a few weeks before you get to open even the first package to see what's inside. Talk about building excitement... even on Saturday I was thinking, two days to go! Just two small days!

Almost as though it was a good thing I had only two days left before I failed in my mission to finish Carol's Christmas shawl before January was over. (I really did fail, btw - there's another 14 or so hours in it.)

Then, a few hours into the day, you get an e-mail with an exclusive pattern in it. Picture this gorgeous yarn in a sock with hearts worked onto the shin, and more detail on the top of the foot:


Drool.

But then I snap back to reality and accept that there is no way I can finish Carol's shawl and knit Valentine's socks in less than two weeks.

Still... it's wool with some nylon for reinforcement, exactly what I concluded I'd have to use for the guy-socks I was going to knit for a friend's present for Christmas 2009 if only I had time.

That guy would totally wear this colour, and if it's red enough for Valentine's Day, it's red enough for Christmas, don't you think? Plus if I start now - I might actually be done before December 25th.

I know, I know: famous last words. Still. Wouldn't they be perfect?

Milkshake reversible scarflet - a free pattern

A month or so before Christmas a small friend who sees me knitting all the time asked if I'd make him a white scarf.

Well, the very next day some super soft cream and blue superwash wool arrived in the mail from Midnight Sheep and I thought, Sort of white? You know, the way a blue tint makes grey hair look whiter? So I offered it and he said Perfect!

and I brought out my copy of Reversible Knitting and suggested lace to make the yarn go farther, and he picked a nice manly stitch I quickly figured out was impossible to fix mistakes in so I added a lifeline for ripping back to whenever disaster struck...

... and then it took me about 10 weeks to knit it because evidently I'm not such a great friend to small people with cold necks.

Also, Christmas panic knitting aside, it was around this time that I discovered Studio Ghibli films and it's hard to knit unfamiliar lace while your eyes are riveted to the screen. It's even harder to work on a project you associate with magical storytelling when you run out of magical stories.

I mention this because I swear some of that magic worked its way into the pattern: I can't help noticing that his finished scarf would make an awesome scarflet for a grownup like, say, me.


Yes, I'm that greedy: I'm thinking that when it's officially too small for him, I might be able to snag it back for myself. I do realize that nobody else who has read this far would even consider such a thing but, um, you should. Because you know those kids are going to outgrow your hard work. They just do. And then if they have the least chance they're going to start stealing the socks out of your drawer so you might just as well get your own back now.


Another plus: it really is reversible.



I don't know which side I like better, so I stitched on (purely for experimental purposes of course) two buttons, back to back, so you can button it on with either side showing.


This is something I love about lace in a hefty yarn: every hole is just made for slipping a button through, letting you play with different shapes and folds for hours of non-knitting fun.

About the name: yeah, well. Something about the whole experience of this scarf, the combination of yarn/colour/stitch/movie-watching, makes me think of those huge stainless-steel two-serving monsters that diners serve your vanilla milkshake in. Or, more accurately, the milkshake itself. Decadent, sweet, kinda frothy, entirely satisfying.

Try knitting one yourself and see what I mean!


View .pdf of Milkshake Reversible Scarflet