Etherknitter

Socks and sadness

Death never takes a holiday. (The book, according to Amazon.com, was written in 2000. The cliché seems older.) The cross-country ski idyll was clipped short by Grandmere’s death. As my DH points out, his grandmere’s death is sad, but not a tragedy. She was 99 years old, had not participated in her surroundings for several years, and had wished for death’s release in her early 90’s. So we drove back from Jackson, NH (Inn at Thorn Hill – VERY recommended for luxury, graciousness, ambience, and understanding hosts.) I didn't have time to search for the LYS near Jackson. While we were cruising back by GPS guidance, I passed a store called “Woolie for Ewe” in Conway. Next time. Maybe. (I await the rude discovery of their probable ethereal hours.) Our route took us to Ewe’ll Love It, in Nashua, NH. It is one of the BEST yarn stores in southern New England. I had a list of yarn for needed projects, but couldn’t focus. So I bought a skein of Mountain Colors, Mountain Goat, in Pine Needle. It seemed propitious that it had 250yds, which is exactly what I need for my Knitting Pure and Simple Sock Pattern. A no-brainer project was necessary for the plane, and here was the right yarn, falling into my eager hands. I, like many in the blogosphere, don’t like what variegated yarns become in the knitted garments. I’ve found that I tend to forgive socks in variegated colors, as long as the pattern is simple. And, for me, if the colors are close in shade, the variegation is less jarring. I won’t buy yarn with light/dark colors melting together. Too startling.

Here is the yarn and the sock. 

 

The gauge is 5 stitches/inch, just like the Lorna’s Laces from my first blog entry. But the Mountain Goat is noticeably thinner. The ribbing of the cuff looked perforated.  That was so unlike my other use of this pattern, that I almost ripped it out to save the yarn for a hat. That would have left me with me no project, and no airplane knitting. So I’m continuing, to see what the body looks like, and what the cuff looks like when it is not as close to the needles. I’m assuming it will look less stretched, and more sock-like.

I also brought home Maggie Righetti's book, "Knitting in Plain English".  Although parts are basic and past-tense for me, many other pieces are superbly timely.  It will be a new experience to NOT have to make every mistake possible in order to learn the craft.

  

LYS and death

The LYS in Saratoga Springs closes at 4pm on Saturdays.  The store reopens Tuesdays.  That eliminates the tourist trade. 

I asked the LYS in Aspen on the phone, if there were any days of the week that they were closed.  The woman said “No.”  Sure enough, the store was closed on Sunday.  The hours, in ski country, were 10am-5pm.  Hello??  That eliminates the tourist trade.

The LYS in Rutland, near Killington, was closed Thursdays.  Whew, saved me from a yarn purchase. 

You can tell I’m frustrated.  Yeah, buying yarn is no necessity, as we have all concluded recently.  But I’m confused and frustrated by the disconnect between what the stores need (business) and what the consumer needs (access).  Are these places simply tax writeoffs?  Or are the people who open them so ethereally into their craft, that the real world never has an impact until the bank pulls their loan?

This rant has been building since January, and peaked Monday when I tried to buy a #8 needle to finish the garter stitch hem on the baby blanket.  Then the husband’s grandmother died today, and we have funeral stuff we have to do.  (Did you know that bereavement fares are more expensive than on-line booking?  The customer service representative said that was because the fare is refundable.  My husband incredulously asked why that would be necessary, since his grandmother was not about to spring  back to life.  Then the dear man, later, asked me if he was being too harsh to the person on the phone.)

The next blog entry, hopefully this weekend, will be lighter, sweeter, and full of finished baby blanket pictures.

Swatch abuse

So, per Claudia's advice, it has been an active week for my Alchemy Synchronicity swatch.  After being carefully and lovingly knitted,  it was drowned (washed), squeezed (dry), and crucified (blocked).  I then placed it in various abusive positions.  In my bra.  In my pant's waistband.
How many times can a swatch materialize on the floor when one is preparing to use the toilet, before one realizes that, yes, one must remember that the swatch is there before it falls into the toilet?  It never quite made it back into drowning position, but the threat was real.

I rubbed it together.  I spit on it...no, I really didn't go that far, but you get the idea.  It shrunk 1/4 stitch per inch.  I can do the math and compensate for that.  I will check and make sure I have enough yarn first (yay Laurie!).  And it held up  well.  Slight bloom.  No pilling (yet).

Here are before, during, and after pictures:

I don't want to change needle size
because I like the drape of the fabric on the #6s. Anna (ace knitting consultant, LYS Wild and Woolly) concurs.  I have girded my loins. If this is a stupid an unfortuitous decision, and I have to rip out half the back....well, I've been there, and know I can do it.  ONWARD!

Cast on Glovelets, cast off baby blanket (soon)

The new pasttime in my computer life is checking my statistics.  I'm curious about the lurkers, and wonder why they silently read.  The fun stuff is checking the google searches that brought people to my blog.  Recently, I've captured "Melissa Leapman" people, "Alchemy+yarn" people, and "fixing a baby blanket" souls.  The most recent hoot was the "flying with an expired drivers' license" person.  My sympathies.    As the consultants in the hospital close their notes, "I will continue to follow with interest."

Yesterday, in preparation for being on call, I knit.  Do you remember the old joke?

What's a deer with no eyes called?
No eye deer.
What's a deer with no eyes and no legs called?
Still no eye deer.
What's a deer with no eyes, no legs and no testicles called?
Still no fucking eye deer.

I think the joke works better in spoken mode.  And no, I'm not about to
blog like Norma.  But the joke came to mind as I continued to knit
through the baby blanket.  How big to make it?  The DH insists
on square.  When I went to work, one of the
opinionistas I consulted agreed with square.  She drew a picture
of baby in receiving blanket, laid on the diagonal, with blanket sides,
then bottom, wrapped around him.  Sounds good to me.  But it
doesn't FEEL right.   I consulted the 91 year old knitting aunt. 
Her opinion was that I should follow the pattern, and
make it as long as the pattern says.  That generation always was
rather compliant.  The current shot is here:

The decision is this.  I will knit until it is just a little
past square, or the end of next week, whichever feels best.
And the DH says I have to work on a second project,
also.  He senses my unrest.
I'm still abusing my Alchemy swatch
(pictures to follow when it has been sufficiently whacked).
And I cast on today for Eric's Glovelets.  I bought the yarn
(Opal Gems merino in French Blue) on November 11th. 
I think that  glovelets, like many phenoms, swept the
blog world all at once, like  ponchos, only better.  I think the
glovelets have a longer half-life potential, also.  (For the record,
I have not knit a poncho for two reasons:
too much exposure of said garment in the fashion world for
the past two seasons,  and too much exposure of parts of my
anatomy to call it a garment of warmth.)

I gifted the Jonathan scarf to Jonathan today.  Unfortunately, the
transaction took  place in an area that precluded pictures.  So they
will follow.   The best I could come
up with was the scarf draped over my Ott-light:

The FO's are outnumbering the WIPs.  I  must do something about this quickly.

Stash

I can't quite fathom that it took me this far into my life before
I discovered the pleasure of knitting on airplanes.  Picture a
somewhat calm woman, immersed in feather-and-fan
patterning, going through multiple rows in between
interruptions meal service.  Contrast that with what I WOULD
look like....rocking back and forth in my seat, eyes closed,
chanting something (Om mani padme hum?) to take my mind
off the fact that turbulence is happening and we are all about to
die.  I haven't let my hatred of flying limit me yet, but I have given it
some thought.  I still like skiing more than I hate flying.

Airplanes are also good times for captive husband conversation.
"Hey Paul, let's talk about what behaviors are hard-wired." 
This is probably one step above our usual work-related shop talk.
I enjoy his intelligence and his perspectives.  Believe it or not, this
WILL be related to knitting.  Cassie, hold onto your hat.

People behave in certain ways that are
neurologically and/or hormonally etched.  Can we alter these
behaviors?  Probably only with thought and conscience.

1.  Us versus Them:  This is a constant.  Red Sox vs the Yankees.
Visigoths vs the Romans.   Macy's vs Gimbels.  It makes atavistic
sense.  Those who worked for the benefit of their tribe contributed
to the survival of their tribe's genetics. 

2.  Hierachy:  This is how "Us" organized.  Communal impulses
allowed tribes to survive.  Someone organized.  Others worked.
Tribe leaders, chiefs, kings, dukes, presidents all evolved in
different groups.  Tiers always evolve in human groups. 
When we talk about the same concept in the animal world, we
call it "pecking order".  Same thing here.  Humans will never allow
a classless society.

3.  Clot behavior:  You can see this on the ski hill.  People tend to
stop at the same time, at the same place.  A few people ski off,
the rest follows soon, and congregate farther down the run.  Or a
clot develops just off the lift.   And then dissipates all at once. 
The same thing can be observed when birds start massing for fall migration.
You can come up with all kinds of telelogic reasoning for why groups
do better than isolated people.

4.  Species preservation behaviors:  This is too obvious to
be very interesting;  food, sex,  and the
incredible drive to continue living fall under this category.

5.  Hoarding:  AHA.  Knitting at last.  Yes, we hoard food,
for continued survival.  That's the bread and milk thing before
each blizzard, probably not just in New England.  But then,
since food is plentiful, now, we hoard other things.  How much
miscellaneous STUFF is cluttering your house?  (Embarrassing
amounts in mine.)  How about yarn?  ALL of us.  It is why it is SO
hard to not buy more yarn.  It is part of an impulse that has kept
us alive for several tens of thousands of years. 

I also know that if I don't knit, the plane will fall out of the sky.

This is a picture of  the Etherknitter unintentionally looking like
an airplane.  I had just climbed about 400 vertical feet, in ski boots,
carrying skis, to a run called Long Shot. 

  It was worth it.

And speaking of stash, this is a shot of my pre-tsunami Purl visit:

LYS in ski country

I am still knitting from stash.  This is getting less and less fun, because I don’t have all that much stash.  I have yarn for ONE sweater, which I am still swatching.  The swatch is at home.  I am not.  The baby blanket is now about 29 inches (out of 49), despite what feels like constant knitting.  I brought a pattern and yarn for Eric’s Glovelets, which have remained untouched. 

I have trouble buying yarn for future sweaters.  I know I’m fickle.  The must-have pattern of today becomes “what WAS I thinking??” three months from now.  So I don’t buy yarn for future sweaters.  I have a gajillion bookmarks for possible yarn choices on my browser, but it doesn’t get much more towards commitment than that.  At the TKGA conference last summer, the knitters referred to the SABLE concept when speaking of yarn accumulations.  They provided translation:  Stash Accumulation Beyond Life Expectancy.  Yes, aren’t we there?  My dance around possible yarn purchases does not include the stray skein of scarf/hat/mitten yarn.  I buy LOTS of those.

It’s a problem.  I have started to include LYS visits on my ski trips.  When we were in Vermont, I stopped in Middlebury at Beads and Fibers.  I didn’t have much hope for a store that listed beads before fibers.  I was wrong.  Lovely stock of basic and novelty yarns, and great patterns. I bought a pattern for flip-top mittens.  When I was in the Killington area later that week, I stopped at Whippletree Yarns in Woodstock, VT.  Even better stock, helpful owner (Shelley), killer button collection. I bought a bunch of buttons with little cross-country skiers on them.  $1.15 per button x 8 buttons seemed safer than more stash yarn.  This dance around yarn is to prevent premature closure….falling in love too quickly and too easily, then regretting it later..  My husband calls the dance foreplay.

Aspen, Colorado has a store called The Yarn Gallery, open for eighteen months.  I have never seen a store with that much Patty Subik (Great Adirondack) yarn.  I fondled a sumptuous scarf on the sample rack.  It was knitted from “yarn” made from beaver fur.  The young woman in the store showed me the kit.  I inspected it closely, and saw Paula Lishman style beaver pelt cut extremely narrowly to yield ¼” wide strips that are then knitted into scarves, gaiters, or trim.  The woman noted that it was really nice that the beaver was not hurt to make the product.  Always helpful and informative, I told her that the beaver wasn’t hurting because he was dead.  Shock and horror crossed her face….”I couldn’t figure out how they had stuck the fur onto the backing.”  I’m realizing, as I point out that the backing is the beaver’s skin, that I am not being helpful.  I apologize.  I feel dreadful.  Why did I open my mouth?  She doesn’t think she will sell anymore of the product, as she is a vegetarian. 

I don’t think I will flog you with pictures of the baby blanket until it is done.  I’ll be home very soon.   I WILL flog the blog with more pictures of what I have been seeing recently.

 

From left to right, Mount Sopris in Snowmass, Colorado, Krabloonik sled dog puppies, and trees from the Big Burn lift the day after snowstorm.

CompletedDoneFinished

Thursday's knitting group saw a unique sight.  I did My Sweater Is Done dance.

Leaped up from my chair, gyrated in place, clutching this garment, probably startling several ladies who think of me as less demonstrative than I was currently demonstrating.  The sweater became a minor miracle for several reasons.  One, it is truly and finally done.   Two, my fears of transmogrification into a tunic were only partly realized.  Three, the guy looks GOOD in it.  The part that is about him is not the minor miracle; that comes from the fact that it really doesn't look like a first sweater unless I start blabbing about this spot that I jiggered, and that spot that had to be......never mind.  I'm finally wise enough to not go there. 

It is a Yankee Knitter English rib pattern that I insisted in knitting in alpaca.  It was a long learning experience.  I take away many things  beyond the obvious shapings, increases, decreases and seaming. 

-Don't follow patterns to the letter.  They don't always know better than I do. Unfortunately, this is something like trying to modify a recipe you have never prepared before.  You don't know the places you can jigger until you have had more experience!

-Crew necks need more preparation in order to look perfect.  This one doesn't.  Someone's blog pointed me to an on-line knitting tutorial that goes into finishing the front so that picking up the stitches doesn't leave areas that are impossible to make pretty.

-This husband is a wonderful recipient.  Couldn't get the sweater off his back for two days.  He made all the correct appreciative noises.  He will get more sweaters. 

I have read the blog bashings that dissected scarf knitters vs sweater knitters.  I would defend scarf knitters to any extreme, because I still passionately believe in process over product.  However:

Our doubts are traitors,

and  make us lose the good

we oft might win by

fearing to attempt.

                                                   --William Shakespeare

 

What happens when I knit, or Fluid Molecular Hard-Wiring

In my New England Knits ring description, I did mention science and whys.  How is it that something as simple, but time-consuming as knitting, has so captured my attention?  My mother and my aunt knit for decades.  I have dozens of mother and aunt sweaters that I treasure.  It wasn't for lack of exposure before now.  As I struggled through the beginner phases last year (garter stitch dead animal scarves, a problem? yeesh), I thought a great deal about it. 

The blog world HAS focused more on product than process.  (I found the blogworld during a sleepless night last spring, and have incorporated a number of you into my daily routine.)   Margene focuses (and writes) beautifully.  I have come to more molecular conclusions.

My work as an anesthesiologist shows me body processes in a myriad of ways.  Why do some people feel more pain than others?  Why is pain a more noxious experience to some people and less so to others?   What causes one person to cry before surgery, and another to smile and say, "Let's go!  I can't wait to have my cup of coffee afterwards."

Human history is replete with repetitive activities designed to soothe and heal.  Many started out with religious overtones, and were focused on circles.  Tibetan prayer wheels, and rosary beads come immediately to mind.  I think the circle concept simply made repetition easier and intuitive.  Knitting does the same thing, but with a secular focus.  But what exactly is it that knitting satisfies?

I knitted my first scarf in eyelash yarn.  I thought the weave would forgive my uneven stitches.  Then I realized that it also disguised my ability to fix mistakes.  Cruising through basic knit, row after row, and then suddenly halted because of a mistake I couldn't figure out, made the molecular biochemistry very clear to me.  I experienced ABRUPT withdrawal.  It was dysphoric. I was in psychic pain.  Clearly, this was about endorphins, which had just been short-circuited.  We talk about knitting as an addiction.  We are probably close to correct.   The same thing that marathoners generate, probably fuels  our knitting.  We feel GOOD when we are doing it.

Like many human endeavors, we short-circuit ourselves.  We each have our own reasons.  Ever wrecked a good relationship?  Ever eat too much and gain too many pounds?  So it is with knitting:  focus on product will override the benefits of the process.

It is part of the human condition to find balance.   We have to work to find it, and work to maintain it.  So it is with the balance between process and product.  No blog entry is quite the same without a picture.  So here is why I cross-country ski, so that I can return to my work, focus clearly, and achieve the balance necessary to keep doing what I do: