Advanced Studies

Now that I have twice as many head of dog at my house, certain fiscal realities have begun to sink in.  Whaddya MEAN that'll be $150???  Well you just ordered twice as much/many as before.  Right.  Math again. 

Turns out that this week, it's back to basics for me.  I have to learn to knit stripes.  And I have to learn to brush a dog.  Two skills I thought I had a passing acquaintance with.  Stripes, because I'm writing a book about knitting in color.  And brushing, because one of my dogs has probably never been to a groomer, and the other is having a series of bad hair days.  Neither are getting the outside attention of trained professionals, at this particular juncture.  It's all me, baby.  Did I mention that I don't even own a dog brush?  When one wants to brush a dual-coated, heretofore ungroomed, dog(or to make stripes in one's knitting), there is much more to know than one might think. 

Puts me in mind of when I first learned to knit (doesn't everything?).  Learning the steps, practicing, and repeating them ad nauseam, will ultimately make them automatic and skillful.  Or so I'm lead to understand.  Fluffing the fur, or making jogless rounds, it's pretty much the same:  Practice makes perfect.

As I reinvent both the grooming, and the knitting wheels, I'd like to ask you all for more fodder.  Needing to know something usually leads me on an exciting journey of research and experimentation.  Not necessarily in that order.  So it stands to reason that if you ask me some questions that I have to go find the answers to, we'll all be smarter afterwards, No?

What have you always wanted to know about knitting?

Send me your questions, no matter how esoteric or bizarre, and I promise to answer them on Friday.  Bring it on, my friends.  Here's your chance to make me a genius.  Ask the knitter (or the groomer, for that matter), and I'll get you an answer.  It might be one I made up, but it will BE an answer, and I promise to be accountable for it.  And by accountable, you may understand that I know most of you have my business card, with my address on it.  And if I lead you astray, I fully expect the whole flaming-torch-and-pitchfork mob to appear at my door.  After all, it's what we knitters do. 

So please ask your questions, and I will find what I hope to be a useful answer. 
Let's learn together.  I'm game, if you are!

 

(Un) Intentional Spinner

So there I was, minding my own business, dutifully finishing a button band so that I might move on to a swell blue hat, when the FedEx man came, bearing an unusually large box.  Thinking that it was probably the deeply anticipated sock yarn in 12 colors for the book I am making, I tore right into it.  One of the best things about my job:  Christmas every time the post arrives.  Instead of sock yarn, it was this:

Over THREE POUNDS of exquisite Cormo fleece, courtesy of my pal Carson.  He picked it out for me last year, and then, in a stunningly bold move, sent it OUT for processing.

That's right:  The fellow who hoodwinked me, first into spinning, and then into buying a whole raw fleece, and then another whole raw fleece, defied the Gods of DIY by sending this out for the heavy lifting of processing into roving.  And let me tell you:  This is without a doubt, the most luxurious spinning experience I have ever had.  

I couldn't possibly be expected to concern myself with making a living knitting swell blue hats when THIS was sitting right in the foyer, now could I?  I DID finish the button band, after all.  And then I declared a day off for playing with floofy stuff.  My boss is a hardass, but even she can tell when a mental health day is in order.  

And I made this.  Plus another one, just like it.  I think there will be a third, before I ply, and after that, who knows?  I was toying with the idea of a dyeing project...but on the other hand, who am I to decide that the color God made it isn't good enough?  Lots of time to decide, though - did I mention it's THREE POUNDS of fleece?  I never met Gina the Sheep, but let me tell you, she grows a quality product.  So luminous.  So soft that you almost can't feel it.  And pin-drafting, though a whole new experience for me, is my new best thing.  The roving is so open, and so consistient - pretty much spins itself.  Absolute nirvana.  Totally worth playing hooky for.

And best of all?  Carson bought the fleece from this sheep's sister for himself.  There will be two sweaters from two sheep, for two friends!  If, that is, Carson's mean boss will give him a day off to spin.  His boss is a total slave driver; Never lets him have any fun. 

I'm glad I slacked off for a day (she said defiantly, though wracked with guilt)!  I'd do it all over again!  Really soon, even.  Today's looking pretty good...

Potential

As Bailey acclimates to his new home, and we fall ever more deeply in love with our new pet, I'm thinking a lot this week about the beginnings of things. 

Whatever I'm working on, at whatever the stage of the process, I'm always looking ahead to the next thing.  It's not proactivity, or project management, or anything else so noble:  It's good old fashioned Start-Itis.  String Lust.  Wanton neglect of the old in pursuit of the new.  I'm meant to be working a button band for the last thing, but all I can think about is the new blue hat, still in skein form.

We knitters all suffer from this need to move on, to some degree.  It's part of the whole Knitter Mystique.  I'm wondering if there isn't some way to harness the crazy energy of the infatuation stage of a project.  Then I could lay it aside for later, when the Doldrums hit.  Imagine going to the cupboard for a wee dram of New Project Excitement, just when the sea of stockinette, or the nasty heel turn from hell rob us of our knitting momentum...

There must be a way.  I'm sure it would involve some sort of suction, and probably a distillation process.  Then, of course the patenting would be a nightmare, but well worth the trouble...I'll leave those details to my people. 

When I get some people, that is.

For now, my only assistant is a sassy blonde, who would like his ears scratched, please, as soon as possible.

The excitement of the beginning is all about the clean slate, for me.  As long as the yarn is still in skeins, I've yet to make a single mistake.  The project is still completely perfect, as long as it's only in my head.  I can see how someone with this mindset would eventually find themselves with a house full of yarn, and not a single finished object to show for it.  Not that I would know personally, you understand - this is entirely speculation.  Perfectionist Much?

Fortunately for me (so far), my unbridled lust desire to play with the string always overcomes my need to preserve its unspoilt beauty.  Sooner or later I always cast on.  Binding off, of course, is another matter entirely.  And what goes on in between may or may not be made of magic.  I suppose that's the really driving force for me:  What makes one song a hit and another one elevator music?  We'll never know why some designs are loved and others tank.  And dreaming up the next one is where all the charm lay for me.

One thing is for certain:  My production schedule is really going to take off once these Scottish Terriers learn to knit.