Unrequited, So Far

Last year at TKGA I fell in love with a book I cannot read.  
There are plenty of books in the world which I can read, but none of them contain this:

photo by Ishi, Ravelry.com

So naturally, the book that I cannot read was snapped up by someone more decisive (or perhaps more Japanese) than me before I went back to get it, and I have been haunted by this homage to the mighty oak ever since. 

And by "haunted", I mean more like "plagued", because not only did I fall deeply in love with this design, but I also am reminded every time I think of it that I let it get away.  There I was, perfectly ready to plunk down the grocery money on the book I cannot read, when the bitter and gloating Troll of Practicality (droning harbinger of all things mundane) landed on my shoulder and suggested that my children would appreciate milk and bread more than me showing them the pictures in the book I cannot read.  They are understanding of my yarn habit, but probably would draw the line at being asked to give up their Froot Loops for it.

Flash forward to Madrona this year, where I met the inimitable KT, and her dear pal Lisa, both of whom are planning to knit this sweater.  They found a teacher and everything.  We are having our own KAL, and my oak leaf dreams are going to come true!  I even found the book again here, and  happily forked over all my yen to procure it.  Now all I have to do is convince the children that Froot Loops are overrated.

A Little Leverage

One of the classes I attended at Madrona last weekend was centered on Lever Knitting, and taught by the unsinkable Stephanie Pearl McPhee.  It is a technique employed by the worlds fastest knitters, and also by the world's most profitable ones, in terms of speed & production.  It requires totally relearning to knit.  And by that I mean needle-dropping-bad-word-saying-yarn-tangling Total Relearning.  I am a pretty darn fast knitter, so I wouldn't feel compelled to try, except that I am not an especially ergonomic knitter.  This way is much better, and I think if I can learn to do it even part of the time, I might save myself a wrist/elbow/shoulder blowout somewhere down the road.  Of course, that requires actually practicing, which I am dutifully doing.  Naturally I required a motivational incentive (okay, it's self-bribery, but who's splitting hairs?) in the form if this fun new yarn from Crystal Palace.  I'm using colors 102 & 104 in the classic 1 X 1 ribbed scarf.  Note the new channel islands cast-on, already pressed into service.  That was probably a tactical error, since it has no corresponding bind off, but heck - I don't really have to worry about that until the end, yes?

And while I'm still on the topic of Madrona, I would like to welcome all my new friends to the blog, and encourage them to comment and share.  Thank you all for befriending me, and I promise to post all the patterns we talked about, as soon as I can.

I am up to my eyes in knitting, which is just the way I like it.  Not least of which is a new pattern for Blackwater Abbey to inspire our SPRING knitting.  Yes, I have it on good authority (well, past experience, really - it's not like I have my own private groundhog or anything) that spring will, in fact arrive at some point in the near future.  Hold on - it's bound to get here.  In the meantime, stay tuned for a super-cute vest, guaranteed to make your handknit socks go up and down.
 

A Perfect Fit

I spent Friday in class with the lovely and talented Beth Brown-Reinsel, who has done more to preserve the art of the Gansey than any other single person.  She has been teaching this class for twenty years, she told us.  Think about that:  Still interested and still interesting on the same subject, after two decades.  Here we see Woody sporting the fruits of my labor.  Under Beth's gentle and watchful eye, the students all made real ganseys, in miniature.  Note the authentic sleeve gussets, and adorable Channel Islands cast-on at the hem.  I am so excited to add another picot variation to my repertoire - watch for that one to get used again early and often.

Looking around and beginning to meet people at Madrona, I am starting to understand what a special group of people these artists are.  The retreat is celebrating its tenth anniversary this year, and the vast majority of attendees return year after year.  I'm pretty sure I'm going to become one of them.