Swatchy McSwatcherpants

I once took a class for which the instructor (the lovely and talented Arenda Holiday) had pre-knitted all the class swatches.  She had decided early in her teaching career that in order for her students to be successful in the technique she presented, the swatches they worked on had to be dependable, which is to say, all made by the same person.  She liked making swatches, and could knock out bunches of them while watching tv, etc.  It was no hardship for her, and ensured that her students had every advantage. 

For us students, it was pure luxury.  I can't tell you exactly why, but those little knitted squares (perfectly blocked, too) and knitted by someone else brought a level of ease and decadence to the experience that I can scarcely describe.  I promised myself that I would do the same for my class one day, when the opportunity was right.

My Madrona students are being asked to make an entire neckwarmer for their homework.  In light of that lofty goal, I could hardly expect them to make practice swatches, too.  The time had come for me to become a benevolent swatchmaker.

Now, you know that my relationship with math is casual, at best, so when I figured out all by myself that 24 students needed 3 swatches each, for a total of...well...a LOT of swatches, I realized that I should start banging them out, and soon. 

I am normally a reluctant swatcher.  I really only do it because I'm usually writing directions that other people have to follow, and they might come and find me if I'm at all cavalier about things like gauge.  Picky lot, you knitters.  Left to my own devices, I hardly ever bother swatching.  I just kinda use the Force.

But these swatches are different.  They aren't trying to prove anything.  There are no right dimensions to achieve.  If I get a wee square of stranded fabric at the end, then my work there is done.  Little 4-inch success stories; that's what these are.  I couldn't be more smug.  Yes, they are the stranded colorwork equivalent of boiled water.  But you know what?  Some days boiled water is a pretty impressive achievement.  So I'm taking my validation wherever it's offered. 

Appreciating the humble swatch solely on its own merits is a new idea to me.  When the swatch is relieved of all responsibility for informing us of what a garment will be (totally unrealistic notion, by the way), it's really just a cute little mini-project.  Do I want to do this all day?  Not really.  But when I asked myself what there was to be learned from this exercise, I was surprised by the answers.

Swatch On, Dear Friends.
 

Don't Quit Your Day Job

Happy New Year, Gentle Readers.  A big announcement:

I quit my day job.

After 14 years, I have resigned my post at the hospital.  Packed up my fish and left.  Didn't let the door hit me.  Said my farewells and didn't even cry.  Much.

Turns out that even I have my limits; notably juggling my family, my knitting, my writing, and my full time employment left me ragged around the edges.  Turns out that for me, "multitasking" means "doing more than one thing at a time badly". 

So while certain challenges lay before me, I am confident that I've made the proper decision.  And of course, I have Big Plans:

Institute Minimum Household Sanitation Thresholds

Find out where the Grocery Store is

Learn to Cook

Find out what the pets do all day

Go for a walk

Knit

Be waiting for the Smallies when they come home from school.

And this is just the preliminary list of Big Plans.  If things go well, I'm also going to look into getting a social life.  Well, at least find some like-minded knitters to hang out with.

The run-up to my big exit from the rat race has been intense.  When things start going down hill, it really does get faster at the bottom.  Job 1 as soon as I was free of the day job was to assemble and ship the Wisteria kits for Madrona:
 

Behold the glory of the handpainted Wisteria Yarn!  I got to ask especially for the yarn attributes I wanted for this project.  I got to specify the color palette.  I got to confer with the yarn artist.  And then I got to bring home this huge hurkin' pile of beauty to make the kits from!  How's that for a knitters' Dream Come True?  My Madrona students are SO going to love this. 

As for the actual kit-making, I had lovely assistants:

Lookit how Helpy they all are!  We assembled all the kits together, right here on the dining room table.  I asked them if they thought this would make us a Close-Knit family.  Three pairs of eyes rolled skyward, and the dog groaned.

So the kits are mailed, and I can breathe for a little bit.  Thing the Next will be the Catkins project.

And yes, Clementine is adjusting to the new scenery, as well.

Pardon Me While I Triangulate

It could be charitably understated that my relationship with direction is casual.  I think that geographical sense must be located in the same group of brain cells as mathematical abilities.  Or as I often put it: "In my other purse".  

The last time I was in a new town, there was exactly ONE turn between my hotel and the yarn shop where I was teaching.  Drove right past it.  Kept on driving for a really long time before the dawning of a sense that Something Was Wrong.  That's ONE turn, Gentle Readers.  Fifteen minutes late to my own class.  Understanding students notwithstanding, it was really embarrassing.  Really?  You're going to teach me to cut my sweater in half, but you can't manage to hang a left? 

My children, with help from their clever and resourceful father, chose a really perfect Christmas present for me this year.  Meet my new best pal, "Tom":

The best thing about this present is how it shows that my family, addition to sympathy for my directional impairment, have offered me actual help.  It's like having a little tangible bit of their love and support with me, even when I'm far from home.  And increases my chances of turning left appropriately in an exponential way.

In unrelated happy news, I promised to let my sock-loving friends know when my new Magic Carpet pattern is available, and today's the day!  Go Here, snap up one of these adorable kits, and have yourself a little Post-Christmas/Pre-New Year hoot.  The yarn and pattern are available there exclusively, so when they're gone, they're gone.  The kits even include the needles, so you have no excuse not to start knitting immediately, and when you're done (which will be before you know it), you can smugly congratulate yourself on having completed something really special, and on supporting an independent, woman-owned business.

And if anybody needs me, I'll be over here, triangulating.