Muggle-Born

Thank you so very much, Gentle Readers, for your many enlightened words on the subject of my Monogram Problem.

As you can see, I Muggled it, and went with the Duplicate Stitch plan:

I'm waiting with baited breath for the last skein to arrive in the mail so I can make the other sleeve.  I know:  Will there never be a day when I estimate yardage properly?  

The fact that there will likely be a difference in color between the second sleeve and the rest of the sweater was one of the driving factors in my decision to Muggle Out on the initial.  This will be a play sweater, not a masterwork.  I elected to let go of the notion that everything I knit has to be some sort of statement about my proficiency, or my authenticity, or my validity as a knitter.  I relaxed and had fun knitting something quick and easy.  Well, easy if you don't count running out of yarn.  And I don't.  That was a direct result of my inability to recognize the actual size of my children until after I had ordered the yarn. 

I like the "font" of this L.  I think it has just the right sort of quality, and its scale & proportion make me happy.  I also was able to locate it exactly in the right spot on the sweater with a minimum of fuss.  In light of all that, I think I made the right decision this time.  The biggest trick has been finding moments to work on the thing, since both Smallies have been out of school for the last 5 days.  Late-nite knitting anyone?  I'm starting Campbell's next, before I lose momentum.
 

WWMWD?

What Would Molly Weasley Do?

To state that my children are Harry Potter fans would be the same as saying that I sort of like knitting.  Lindsay has poured through the cannon at least six times.  Campbell is just now discovering the series, which means that Lindsay is falling in love with it all over again, this time through her brother's eyes.

We came to the chapter when Harry receives his first Christmas present, in the form of a handknit Weasley jumper, and they both begged me to knit them their own.  One of the unparalleled delights of having Smallies is the opportunity of knitting for them.  And I know the day may come when they are no longer interested in sweaters made by "The Wooly Mom-uth" (Cam's name for me).  So without actually agreeing to the project, I have secretly begun work on two Monogrammed crewnecks.  Lindsay asked for Maroon, while Campbell requested Forest Green.  They're nothing if not specific.

Time being what it is, I elected to bang out the sweateres in bulky wool , on nice fat size 10 needles.  Imagine my surprise when I realized that not only are they are both wearing the same size, but it's going to be an adult size!  For the proper slouchiness (and longevity of wear), I decided the sweaters should have 36" chests, which means that the Smallies are officially No Longer Small.  I plan to remain in denial at least until the new year.

I asked a pal with kids about the same age as mine, and also hardcore HP lovers, if she'd like to knitalong with me.  Sure! She replied.  I sent her the first line of the pattern I'm making up, to which she replied in horror: "Whaddya mean knitting in the round?  How can you do the intarsia initial then?"  It had NEVER occurred to me to make the initials in intarsia.  I had reasoned that the only way to get the sizing and placement perfect would be to duplicate-stitch the letters on at the end.  Intarsia?  I don't want to work that hard.  "Isn't that cheating?" asked my pal.  I never even thought of that.  She raised the bar.

Here's what I have so far. If I were to do an intarsia initial, it would be time to start pretty soon.  But I really can't decide.  Accuracy in placement and speed of getting them done would decree that duplicate stitch is the way to go.  But what would I be sacrificing in the way of authenticity?  The pictures I've been able to find of the originals don't tell me for sure which technique was used. 

What Would Molly Weasley Do?  Well, she's the mother of seven children, so obviously she's got to be working with a thought to efficiency.  But on the other hand, she has a MAGIC WAND, that can probably save her at least a couple of minutes.

Kindly weigh in, Gentle Readers:  Do I Muggle Out and duplicate-stitch them, or work an incantation for the proper intarsia?  I'll wait while you decide.
 

Things We Have To Make

There are things we want to make.  Things we like to make.  Things we think that someday we would really like to make.  And then there are the things which are not optional.  Things which are required, by circumstance, as proof of our abilities, or in some cases, things which are born because not making them turns out to be much harder than just allowing them to form under our hands.

Lindsay had to make a sculptural interpretation of a cell, with all its parts.  She had a clear vision of what it should look like, its size, and all the things she would need to execute it.  My jobs were to drive to the craft store and help procure supplies, and later, to fire up the label-maker.  Other than that, this is entirely her creation.

I stood looking at it, the product of her hands and her mind, thinking that it wasn't very long ago that she didn't know how to feed herself.  What happened to that little baby who spit mashed peas on us?  Whence came this capable young lady?  Not sure, but it's okay; I don't really miss the mashed peas.

I was sick last week.  Gnarly bout with the flu.  I wallowed around in an antihistamine-induced fog, wondering if the cure wasn't worse than the disease.  My sensitivity to cold medicine (required for breathing) is such that it both knocks me out, and keeps me from actually sleeping.  So I lay around in a fugue state for about four days, dreaming the same irritating set of knitting instructions over and over, unable to release my mind from them.  This unmade garment, a colorwork vest, had commandeered my subconscious, and would not let it go.  I know where all the steeks go, the order of the colors, how many stitches are in it.  The only thing left is to let my hands catch up.

But I don't want to knit a vest.  I have other things to work on, like a Trapeze Tomten, and the Caorah Dubh pattern to write.  And I wont tell you (yet) about the the Annual Christmas Knitting Start-itis that has besieged me.  Nope.  I don't want to make the Vest of Flu-induced Torment.  Not One Bit. 

But I realized last night that I don't think its up to me.

One of my most constant prayers is for inspiration.  That said, I believe that Inspiration, in and of itself, is for amateurs.  As one who has hitched my financial wagon to the art that spills from my head, I cannot afford the luxury of waiting around for the big idea.  So I approach creation like the work that it is: Joyful, surprising, exhausting work.  And because I so often have to lower my horns and plow on ahead, it occurs to me that I may not know a real burst of inspiration when it's given to me.  And I don't get to choose how the ideas will present.  I might have to wait until some time when I'd rather be blowing my nose for the ten-millionth time. 

So I cast it on.

MacTarnahan inspected what  will one day be the Flu-Induced Vest Design. 

Lindsay had to make her cell sculpture for school.  Its completion was not optional.  She didn't waste time questioning its necessity, just dove in and made it.  And really enjoyed both the process and the result.
 

I'm gonna learn a lot from her.