Ackery

Gauge? We don' need no stinkin' gauge.

Hello again!

I knew it had been a while since I posted, but until a few kind souls gave me a gentle nudge, I hadn't realized exactly how long it had been.

The fact that I couldn't remember my Typepad login was a pretty good indication, though. Life here has been hectic -- and for the most part, very, very good -- but hectic. For example -- this little project? A joint effort between me and the rest of the PTO, plus some extra helpers, all for my Co-VP's new baby. This took up more time than one could have thought possible. It was like the wormhole of baby blankies.

(Just look at all those ends to weave in. Oy.)

Behold, the Circle of Friends Blanket, from Last Minute Knitted Gifts. My beloved Miss Daphne has led similar group projects more than once, and even as I was proposing this to the rest of the PTO crew, I vaguely remembered her saying that gauge can become an issue, particularly if the knitters have varying skill levels.

Miss Daphne does not lie.

Truly, I should have mentioned the whole concept of gauge before we got started. I know that. But since everyone had to go out and buy the needles specifically for this project, I felt a little guilty saying, "Okay, but that's not measuring right. Get thee back to Hobby Lobby and drop another seven dollars." It didn't seem like the most encouraging tactic to take with a group of new knitters -- particularly those who were only learning to knit for this one project and then never casting on again. And honestly, how far off could they be?

As it turns out, pretty damn far.

And I was the worst of the bunch. Everyone used size 6 needles, but in order to match the gauge of the strip next to mine, I had to drop down to 3's. And when I did that, I was infinitely tinier than the strip on the OTHER side of me. And since I couldn't lay hands on a pair of 4's if my life depended on it, I had to go back up to 5's. That KnitPicks Options set is looking better and better all the time, I tell you.

In the end, though, it turned out pretty spiffy. Stern blocking and a firm hand with the seaming helped. It's not perfect, of course, but we weren't expecting perfection -- we just wanted to make something cozy for a baby whose mom is one of most warm-hearted people I know.

(Naturally, I forgot to bring my camera when we presented her with the blanket at the last PTO meeting. Believe me when I say that Baby E is cute enough to hide any flaws in her blankie.)

Handmade by Dobby

Gymnastics today -- another hour in which I cannot bear to witness my child's feats of derring-do, instead averting my eyes and asking all the other moms, "Is she okay? How about now? What's she doing? Nevermind, I don't want to know. How is she now? Does it look like her neck has snapped?"

The receptionist has assured me that once Ellie moves up to the kindergarten class, they'll supply me with Valium.

One of the things that keeps me from a full-on gymnastics freakout is, of course, the knitting, so I have to go prepare something suitably complex for class today. Briefly, however, I wanted to give you the details on Hermione's Wand Case, which ended up holding a dowel (six for $1.50! at Michael's) instead of the original or secondary wand.

The pattern, from Alison's Charmed Knits, is heavily modified, because I am too cheap to knit my kid a case from La Luz. We went instead with Patons SWS, a soy-wool blend which has pretty colors and is very soft but...I do not love. It tears easily, for instance, which is to be expected in a lighter-weight yarn. Medium-weight yarn, though, I tend to expect a little more of, especially when it's 70% wool. I am sure that someone more familiar with spinning and fiber and yarn structure (Lucia, for example, or Kimberly) would be able to explain why the yarn kept pulling apart like salt-water taffy, but even knowing WHY wouldn't make it any less irritating.

I ended up decreasing irregularly -- sometimes every 6 rows, sometimes every 4, because I started following the pattern, and then midway through, realized that I hadn't tried to fit the wand inside. And then the tail got too long, especially after the first wand broke and we went the dowel route, so I knotted it. Once could choose to see this as a half-assed approach, I suppose, but I am planning on spinning it as charmingly eccentric, the sort of thing Dobby would have made for Hermione.  (And I'm sure she would have been very appreciative and worn it in the Halloween parade at Hogwarts, if they had such a thing, unlike SOME people who left it in their backpack all day.)

Falling Short

I should have known better, really. My to-do list these days is longer than my arm, and every night I go to bed secure in the knowledge that in the morning, I will already have a goodly number of tasks to keep me occupied. If idle hands do the devil's work, I am rapidly approaching canonization.

So I should have known better than to tell Isabelle I could knit so many parts of her costume. She'll be fine, of course -- the really essential parts are done, and she was never that excited about her scarf anyway, so she probably won't even notice, especially if I distract her with promises of mini-Twix bars.

Some peoples eyes are bigger than their stomachs. My eyes are faster than my fingers, I guess. Sigh...

Happy things: yarn, coffee, books, friends.

Is it wrong to uproot your entire family so that you can live closer to a yarn shop? Because I'm giving it serious consideration.

Earlier this week, I went to hear my friend Allie read from her latest novel. Knitting figured prominently in her previous book, and fittingly, she'd held a reading at her local yarn shop. This time, coffee featured prominently (Allie is my type of girl) and conveniently enough, the yarn shop has a coffee bar inside. So off I went to Knitche, a lengthy drive, on a school night, because Allie is a great person, and there was yarn. And coffee. Really good coffee. And shortbread. And yarn. Did I mention the yarn?

Allie and I write about very different things. She writes Christian romance, and I...do not. I'm not even sure the book I'm working on will have a happy ending, and Allie is all about happy endings. She is also all about $14,000 espresso machines, exploding pajamas, and drugged chickens, but I am pretty sure they were happy drugged chickens. The thing about Allie is that she is funny and smart and warm, and that would come through even if she were writing about septic systems. Which she is not. But she could, and it would be a hoot.

She's also an amazing knitter. Check out the fancy-pants entrelac shawl:

Check out, too, the yarny goodness behind her. The shop, Knitch, is pretty close to perfect. They have a wide variety of well-chosen yarn, beautifully displayed. Everything is tidy without giving off the "don't touch" vibe; it's cozy without being cluttered. There's room to walk around and think about what you want to do, the staff doesn't pressure you, there are samples and swatches all over the place. There is a minimal amount of foo-foo eyelash yarn (this is crucial). And while it was mentioned before, there is a coffee bar behind the register. My only complaint is the location, because it is too far a drive for me to get there regularly.

Allie is a big believer in doing research for her books. For this one, she spoke with the good people of Intelligentsia Coffee, to learn all about specialty coffee. She learned how to make a latte from the number-three barista in the world. Thursday evening, she brought in a speaker from Intelligentsia to lead a coffee tasting and discuss the company's direct-trade model. It was fascinating to hear about their efforts to treat both their growers and their product with such care and respect. At one point, a woman asked whether the coffee we were drinking was certified shade-grown. It turns out the answer is no, but the guy went on to describe the farm it came from in meticulous detail, and the specific growing needs of that varietal of coffee tree, and the changes the farmer has implemented since entering into a relationship with the company. I can't help but think that kind of involvement translates into better coffee.

I managed to restrain myself in my purchases -- yarn enough for a secret project, and a few more skeins of Malabrigo to make myself a scarf. But that's only because I'm saving up for the move.

Where are they now: Ginormous Blankie Edition

Remember Squeak?

Remember Squeak's Blankie?

Well, now they're two years old (and some change).

One of them has gotten bigger, and one of them has gotten rattier, but it's a loving kind of rattiness. The kind of rattiness that comes from being dragged everywhere, all the time. The grocery store, the back yard, the bus stop, underneath the dinner table...everywhere.

Squeak is the happiest little dude you've ever met, unless you're actively thwarting him, or you're in between him and Bankie. To get between them is to take your life in your hands, because that? Is HIS BANKIE NO HIS HIS HIS. We tried to examine Bankie once, to check something in the stitch pattern. But he was awake. And it was not pretty.

(Do you feel lucky, mommies? Do you?)

Squeak's mother recently knit the same pattern in a different yarn, and we wondered if that was going to confuse him. Nope. That, he decided, was Mommy's bankie, which was just fine. Squeak's bankie has special holes for him to put his thumb through, strands he's pulled out to twirl around his fingers, loops he's pulled out as special holding devices, and it has that special baby-shampoo-apple-sauce-snuggly baby smell that is uniquely Squeak's. Of all the things I've ever knit, it's my favorite.

I can't handle this much fun.

With a title like that, you'd think I'd spent the weekend at Rhinebeck, playing with squishy babies. Which I did not. Instead, we spent the weekend cramming in as much of the beautiful fall weather as we could.

Saturday, there was apple picking:

Sunday, we visited one of our favorite places on earth, or at least in Chicagoland:

 

The Morton Arboretum has a four-acre Children's Garden that is all sorts of hands-on fun. There are rocks to climb, creeks to play in, bridges to cross, ropes to clamber over...

There's even a path named for the Kentucky Coffeetree, a painful trek for those strange folk who don't like coffee.

We rarely spend both weekend days on fun stuff -- there are always errands to run, and classes to get to, and birthday parties to attend, and obligations to be met -- so to take both days as family time was a treat. Of course, now we are exhausted.

Figuring out how to do a provisional cast-on and a picot edge for Isabelle's Halloween costume nearly did me in this morning. It took several cups of tea and a healthy dose of apple-cider doughnuts before I could even attempt it. But I prevailed. (The colors in real life are more muted, I swear it.)

Comfy-Cozy

Cooler weather means that I no longer have to feel guilty about staying inside and puttering rather than frolicking outside in the global-warming induced temperatures with the giant spiders. Instead...

...we can read. These are two particular favorites lately.

...we can embroider. (Ellie is sticking with straight stitch for now.)

...we can knit. Some of us can, anyway. Others just incessantly demand that items be knit to their exacting specifications.

...we can bake, and drink tea, and try to get some work done. (Jane's rock bun recipe, with dried cherries in lieu of glace ones.)

Quite a nice life, really.

Speaking of cozy -- are any of you watching Pushing Daisies? Did you laugh as hard as I did when they showed Emerson knitting handgun cozies and sweater vests? I am not yet sure I love the show, but I am utterly smitten with Emerson Cod.

Lighting is tricky (but a good model helps).

Take 1. Perhaps natural light is overrated. Let's use the flash, hmn?

Take 2. Or not.

Take 3. Aaaahhh. Now that's more like it.

My favorite hat pattern, in Malabrigo Stonechat (Liz is not kidding with the "swoon...thud"). The details are all here. The yarn was just so lovely to work with -- soft and vibrant and dreamy -- that I have plans for a scarf to match it, as soon as I clear some other deadlines off my plate.

Ooooooh. Pretty.

With all of the start-of-school craziness we've stocked up on, I neglected to do anything with the Ravelry invite I received a month or so ago. I remembered signing up, vaguely, but I couldn't remember my name, and I didn't really have a chance to poke around and see what all the fuss was about.

Today, I finally ignored the to-do list and headed on over.

Great googly-moogly, people! What took me so long? It's so shiny over there, so full of obsessive fibery goodness, all list-y and organized and I was tempted to feed the girls popcorn for dinner so that I could immediately begin cataloging my stash.

There's been precious little knitting going on here as of late. I've been overwhelmed with first-grade preparations, with family things, with other projects that have required all of my waking attention (and some of my sleeping attention, too). The TiVo is full to bursting, which is a sad, sad state of affairs. But suddenly, the weather is changing, and we're getting used to school, and Ravelry is calling me home, and my fingers, people, they are starting to twitch.

Nothin' but good times ahead.

The World's Largest String Bag

String Bag, Take 1


Originally uploaded by Ackery.

Seriously, what was I planning to tote in this thing? Unstretched, it could hold a watermelon; anything big enough to fill it up will be too heavy to carry anywhere. Paper towels, perhaps. Or batting for a quilt? A park district's worth of whiffle balls?

This is two balls of Sugar & Creme, but I ran out of yarn mere inches before finishing the handle. This begs the question: do I go out and buy another skein of white, despite an effort to whittle down my stash, or do I use another color of Sugar & Creme, which will result in a contrasting, asymmetrical handle? Decisions, decisions.

I think my quest for the perfect string bag must go on.