When Knitters Take Over The World

It was a dark and stormy night...

Really, it was dark and stormy.  It was raining so hard that I literally could not see out of the car windows well enough to read the numbers on the buildings.  I abandoned the car in the first open space I found in the general vicinity of the place I thought I was supposed to be.  I grabbed the rolly-trunk of book sweaters and plunged headlong into the deluge.  The sun, had I been able to see it, would almost have been down at this time, contributing to the gloom and lack of visibility.  I ran with my head down (Oregonians for some reason never have umbrellas - we just let it run down our noses) in an attempt to keep my minimal makeup from washing away.  I ducked into a doorway to try and get my bearings.  When I tilted my head up properly, my eyes landed here:

My sense of direction is exactly like my grasp of math:  Flimsy.  So to have accidentally landed directly in the middle of my own book signing was the sort of lucky break I would dare not hope for.  I so seldom find myself in the place I'm supposed to be, it's like being given a present.

And speaking of presents, the Knit Picks staff surprised me with a knitter's dream come true:  All the Colors of Palette.  I flatly cannot believe it.  What an incredible surprise.  The smallies and I wanted our picture taken with it, we were so totally blown away.  Lindsay (center) is looking at the colors with the most cunning little device - it's essentially a color-choosing kaleidescope, and it's so cool that it warrants its own post.  Stay tuned...
 

The lovely Giselle got her copy signed, and has almost decided on what to make first...

And the wee Leland, who managed not to get bored throughout the proceedings, even helped me zip up the sample bags at the end of the evening.

Delightful Kelly Petkun, and her Knit Picks team did absolutely everything in the world to make it a fun event.  No Kidding - that gang is one well-oiled machine.  If I ever need to schedule a safari, or mount an invasion, these are the people I'm going to call.  It was a precision display of crack event-planning skill.  And they even gave away yarn and needles.

Tomorrow, the wet knitters of Oregon and Southwest Washington (did I mention that winter has arrived?) can tune into AM Northwest on KATU, on which program I will be explaining the art and science of the Ugly Sweater, and demonstrating what constitutes one.  I will also have some Non-Ugly sweaters, for comparison.

And then I'm going to Lindsay's ice skating competition.  And then, perhaps a nap.
 

Old, New, Virtual Too

The Frog Prince and I are Taking A Break.

And by "Break" I mean that it's having a Time Out.  Ironically, it's almost finished.  I'm just waiting for the trim to arrive before the final steps, but I feel that I have earned some time off for good behavior (or at least tenacity), having gutted and reknit both sleeves, twice each.  By my count, that should make it a six-armed sweater.  But then I never was much for math.  Suffice to say that I (and by extension, you, Gentle Readers) are due for a break from that particular drama.  I promise this hurts me more than the Frog Prince; I'm doing it for its own good. 

By way of distraction, I offer this:

Here are two sleeves being worked at the same time.  I'm doing this so that my groovy self-striping yarn will match on both sleeves.  When they are finished, I'll cut them apart and sew seams before uniting them with the body.  This is my first-ever Elizabeth Zimmerman Percentage Sweater.  EZPS is so elegant and brilliant - no wonder everybody loves it so.  I thought I'd give it a whirl as a ramp-up to my next design, which features none other than the beautiful Toots LeBlanc yarn.  The Toots project will feature a circular yoke, which I haven't made many of.  What better way to practice than on this dreamy Paint Box?  It's color #4, "Borealis".  Did I mention I got it for free <insert gloating noises here>? My LYS has a punch card program, and the day this went on sale, I found that my punch card was also full = Instant Yarn Binge.  Total Gratification:  Free yarn to make something just for fun and with no deadline.  "Work" doesn't get any better than that.  And in case you are wondering, NO, I do NOT wish to be reminded that I had to spend seven thousand dollars to fill that LYS punch card.  And neither does my husband, lest he be sent to Time Out, too.

And speaking of "Work" (still can't always bring myself to call it a a job) this week's stop on my book tour is a Virtual one: Click Here to hear a fun interview, in which I go on (and on) about what would make a person write a knitting book about colorwork.
 

Stitchy McSeamy-Pants

I have made no small amount of noise regarding the benefits of circular knitting.  It stands to reason that I will do just about anything to eliminate seams from my knitting.  And I will.  Except when I decide to ADD seams.  ADD seams?  You heard me right:  I swear on Barbara Walker's pantyhose, seams have a bang-up brilliant purpose.  Just not the one you think.

I stand behind everything I ever said about flat knitting with seams being harder to shape than knitted tubes.  I know I'm right when I say that circular knitting is better, faster and in all ways superior to flat.  But seams have one fantastic use that tubes cannot accomplish: 

They let us match the patterns in our sleeves presicely, while giving us the perfect place to hide yarn tails from stranded colorwork without weaving them in.  You can read more about the tail-hiding colorwork version of this theory in my book, but for today's illustration, I'm going to show you some conjoined sleeves made with only one strand.  I made these for my Elizabeth Zimmerman Percentage Sweater.  I'm at the point in the EZPS process where I need to have two sleeves to join onto the body tube in order to start shaping the upper half of the sweater.  I have long suspected that getting two matching sleeves would be tricky using self-striping yarn, and my suspicion was correct.  Add 2-color corrugated rib to the process and things can go squirrely pretty quickly.  My solution:  Knit two sleeves together with steeks in between, cut them apart, then make a seam in each one.

This particular yarn (Paint Box by Knit One, Crochet Too), in addition to being really beautiful, is also nice and sticky.  By that I mean that its 2-ply woolen-spun qualities make it an excellent candidate for a crocheted steek, which you can see below.  The crochet is done in black 2-ply fingering-weight; a finer guage than the rest of the sweater, to avoid excess bulk.  Here are my two sleeves, still conjoined, with steeks already secured.

To crochet a steek , you reinforce the edges before cutting them by working a chain around the stitches that will be cut.  You make two rows of double crochet, and then cut the ladders of knitting between them.

Here is a closeup of me doing that (Warning:  Scissors + Knitting may = dangerous viewing for the squeamish)

The cut stitch edges, bound neatly in their crochet chain, will quickly felt down with wear and washing.  Want proof it really works?  Check out some antique Fair Isle knitting, and prepare to have your mind blown.

Here I am making the actual seam (working yarn is the black 2-ply again, this time doubled).  Rather than sewing, think of the stitches you make as lacing up the opening - just as with ice skates, or a corset.  Working from the right side, you stitch through the ladder of every stitch on either side of the opening.  Pull each successive stitch less tightly than the last until you have 8 or 10 "laces", then gently snug them up by pulling the working yarn:

The laces disappear, the edges butt together, and the seam is just about indecipherable.

Here's our wee beastie, the finished seam, from the wrong side (notice how well-behaved and flat it is,with no blocking or steaming at all?),

And from the right side. 

The seam is invisible, and only the mirrored increases on either side hint at its location.  The horizontal stripes match perfectly, rather than spiraling with a "step" as they would do if knitted in the round.  This tendency is even more pronounced in striped or stranded colorwork designs.  And the biggest bonus:  A perfectly matched pair of sleeves, with no guessing, no fudging, and no faking.  No thinking, either - just knit, stabilize, cut and lace them up.

Kids, DO try this at home!  Just remember the following:

Crocheted steek edges are only for untreated, 100% wool yarns.  NO superwash, and NO blends.  Only do this with a yarn that can felt.  Don't panic; there are other ways to secure those other yarns. I just want you to be sure you have chosen the proper victim for performing this daring feat.

A brilliant set of instructions on the actual crochet stitching for steeks is here.  Now go forth and seam something.  You have my blessing.