Thumbs Up

Remember when I used to knit stuff, and then blog about it?  Yeah, that was cool, back then.  Thought I'd try a little of that today, just to see if I could remember how.  Turns out I do.  Here is a little mitten I busted out, whilst schizophrenically (that's a word - my husband the English teacher said so) dodging back and forth between the Knot Garden, the Frog Prince, an Elizabeth Zimmerman percentage experiment, and some socks.  

I call them Queen Of Hearts, because they make me think of playing cards.  Not to wreck my perfect average, they, too, are unfinished.

Notably lacking in the thumb department.  I should probably figure out how to make that next.  Calls for a wee chart, which will hopefully be the last thing I do before packing up the laptop for tomorrow's big pilgrimage. 

The only thing wrong with traveling is the traveling.  It will take all of tomorrow for me to fly between the west coast and the east coast.  Fortunately there will be a couple of times where I get off the plane and stretch my legs (run?) between terminals, so hopefully the atrophy won't completely set in.

Besides chart-drawing (doesn't everybody have to finish designing a mitten so they can get on a plane?), my other last-minute preparations include the following:

    1.    Where are the directions to the bed-and-and-breakfast that my publicist sent to me (subject heading: "Put this somewhere Safe because I will Loose it)?

    2.    What knitting am I taking, anyway?  There's a strong chance that I could finish the mitten on that long a flight, and then what?  Aside from the obvious 2nd mitten.  I'm thinking EZ % sweater, but it is kinda big and sweater-y.  I'll take the socks, hoping that steel DPNs don't anger the TSA Gods, but I find I can only work on socks for so long before they start to bore me.  Then of course there is the writing I'm supposed to do, but I never can tell if inspiration and/or lap space may be at too high a premium...

3.    Did I charge my mobile?  Thinking of small and irritating personal electronics, where in the !#$^%^* is the camera? 

The Camera.

I think I left it on my desk at the office when I last reported there (way back before the Pig-Headed Flu) and oh-my-gosh-do-I-really-have-to-drive 40 MILES to and fro to retrieve the F)@!@W Camera?

Yes.  Yes I do.  It's Leaf-Peeping time, and I have to blog, and there is no way I'm not taking a picture of my first-ever Rhinebeck and Book Signing.  Camera Fetch unavoidable.

.25 miles from home I nearly engage the ABS in my car when I remember trying the camera in the new laptop bag to see it it was going to fit...

At least I didn't get all the way to my office before I remembered.  Lucky Break Caught.  Brain cramp clearly emerging from the Ass-Chasery of my day.  I telecommuted today, which meant conference call-staff meeting, working online on a pre-colubian artifact of a laptop which processed so slowly that I was actually doing laps around my living room between databases, several breaks to feed/comfort/sedate my convalescent child, back to the demon databases, dash off to the post office-bank-pharmacy and back in time to receive the second non-convalescing child home from school, respond to all the AM e-mails from the hospital, button up as much pending *#)$&@^ as possible before being absent from the day job for 4 days, and make dinner for the smallies.  Phillip at grad school tonight so single-parenting it for the evening.  No sweat.  Just another day in paradise.

I think I could invade a small nation with fewer mental gymnastics than my days here in paradise, never mind pack for a trip  Experienced road-warriors I have asked tell me that it gets easier with practice.  Let's Hope.  See you on the other side (of the continent).

Seeking Patience, and Something Unusual

I'm slogging away at the Frog Prince.  Still.  Again.  Would you believe that I still don't love it and I gutted it again?  Broke my heart, but there it is.  I just want it how I want it, and the wise words of one of the Faery Ring knitters came back to me:  "I have never regretted tearing something out to make it right, but I have often been disappointed when I didn't".  Hard to argue with that.  And the thought of knitters at my door with torches and pitchforks is always added incentive. 

My frustration is nearly complete, but I'm trying to keep in mind the old adage: "Be patient, God isn't finished with me yet".  Applies so well to knitters and knitting.

Your kind words and enthusiasm, Gentle Readers, have been such inspiration for me to attack the Knot Garden again:

Here is the second sleeve, begun with a nice bit of the knot garden cable business for a cuff.  I'll turn it sideways and knit up for the rest of the sleeve.  Wonder how come I always like cables better turned sideways?  Same disorder that causes me to color outside the lines, no doubt.  Working on this is a welcome distraction when I get a gut full of the Frog.

And now for Something Unusual:  

Friends of the blog Interweave Press  have invited me to take part in a virtual Tour of Studios.  This event will be held this Saturday, October 3.  Click the magazine cover above to follow the link this weekend, and you can take in the sights, which include the work digs of many different designers.  I don't know about you, but the physical spaces in which creativity happens fascinate me.  My little corner of the design world will be on the tour, so you can see where all the magic (and sniveling) happens.  I can't wait to see where other designers work.  I'm particularly interested to learn if many others have tiny little areas, like me.  My office is actually in the hallway which joins my foyer to my dining room - barely even qualifies as a hallway - and occupies less than 70 square feet.  I long for a real room with a door, but for the time being, this little space suits me well.  Once I carved it out, I was really surprised how popular it became with the rest of my family:  I usually have to shoo one or more smallies out of the way to do my thing.

In the meantime, if anyone needs me, I'll be in the corner, muttering curses on a frog.
 

Knotty But Nice

Thank you, dear friends, for fearlessly picking sides as to which of my UFOs deserved the most (if any) attention.  I cannot express how delighted I am: I have not only been motivated to finish a neglected project (I actually have to do something now that I've dragged you lot into it), but also directed which one to tackle.  My way is clear, and my enthusiasm renewed.  The lucky recipient of our attention is "UFO A", the unpublished, unfinished, and as yet unloved Knot Garden Cardigan.

I thought you might like to see how I start the design process for a commercial publication (as opposed to working directly with a yarn company, which is different).  I tell you this in case you'd ever like to do it, too.  There is surprisingly little information available about how knitting patterns get into magazines, so if you've ever wondered, here's a peek at the process, at least as I know it.

Once Upon A Time (about a year ago) I answered a call for submissions to a national magazine.  It's fairly easy to get into the loop for hearing when magazines want submissions: you just ask the proper editor to be added to their e-mail list.  The strange part is getting used to dreaming up garments that you would never be in the mood to actually knit at that time of year.  The hairy hot mohair will inevitably be your focus in August, and when it's freezing in January, that's when you'll be crocheting tiny cotton bikini triangles.

Nevertheless, I did my best to conjure up something that knitters might like, that I also imagined would fit the theme and style of the publication.  I sent a proposal to them, and it looked pretty much like this, though the names have been removed to protect the innocent:
 

You will note that I did not, however brilliant I thought my idea was, actually knit the sweater.  Nor did I make any attempt to procure yarn for it.  I just sent the proposal on its way, with high hopes for acceptance.

Which was not forthcoming.

Oh well, thought I - can't win all the time.  Sure do like this sweater, though.  This is one I would really wear a lot.  Who wouldn't like a nice little gray cardi?  I wasn't ready to give up on it, so I sent the proposal to a second publication for review.  The second magazine was an even better match for the spirit of the design, I thought.  Surely publication #2 would go for it.

Somehow, between that day and this one (in which I still have not heard a word from either magazine - brutal, but that's just how they treat designers), I convinced myself that this sweater was going to get published because it was so cute, so wearable, so ladylike.  I may also have been under the influence of yarn-induced optimism.  You know how it goes - you fall in love with some really pretty yarn and you think you can do anything.  Knit a whole sweater in one evening?  No problem!  Sell a design to someone who doesn't want it?  Done!  So confident was I that it would be produced, that I ultimately bought yarn for it.  I loaded up on a great yarn that everybody loves and I had never tried.  I cast on, thinking that I might hear any time that the design had been picked up, and then I'd be ahead of schedule.

I just really liked the Knot Garden, and I wanted to make it for myself.  But it's hard to justify spending time and money on personal knitting, so I tried to work a profesisonal design out of it.  And then some project or other that actually held fiscal incentive came along, and  poor little Knot Garden got shelved.

The funny thing is how close to finished it actually is.  Here is the body, and there's a whole sleeve finished, too.

With your encouragement, Dear Blog, I bravely joined the shoulder seams last night, and worked a sweet and simple ribbed collar.  It's cozy, too - I tried it on, and I really like the way it hugs the back of my neck.

Knitting, it turns out, is just full of second chances.  There ought to be more of that in the world, no?