All in Good Time

It seems like only yesterday that I was sorting out the challenges presented by my Noro project.  Not that I was at liberty to show it to you, or tell you much about it, at the time.

But now I finally can!  Introducing:

It's available now, so I can tell you all the things I wanted to say last summer but couldn't, such as: I am very proud of this piece, for many reasons.

First of all, it's Dead Sexy, if I do say so myself.  Second, its selection for publication validates some very hard work I had been doing to improve my sketching skills:

You'll notice that Vogue's selection of colorway differs from what I originally suggested - I imagined a dark background, while they chose a light one.

Here's what the sample looked like when I finished it:
 

If you look closely, you can see that Vogue changed my purple and silver buttons to bronze ones.  They also changed the name of the design from "Niji" (Japanese for "rainbow") to the very original "Fair Isle Cardigan". 

But it's still mine (well, in spirit, at least - Vogue owns the sample), and I'm proud to have it featured in a what I think is a very beautiful book.


 

The Score, So Far

At T -18 days (I am still optimistically counting today) until my next deadline, I have 5 of the nine required projects for my book completed.  I feel as if I'm running flat out, chest heaving, wind sucking, feet pounding.  All in the stillness of my living room.

It's gonna be a short-lived stillness:  School is out on Wednesday.  The Smallies are done before Phillip, which means I won't be pawning them off on him, either.  And it's raining.  If that's still the case in three more days, I don't like my chances for productivity.  I'm trying not to freak out.  Really trying. 

It's still FIVE down, which is really good.  And the remaining 4 projects are socks, a hat, a bag, and a sweater.  Not impossible, right?  I mean it's not like there's a motorcycle cozy on the list or anything.

Oh, and the sweater isn't exactly designed yet.  I only kind of know what it's going to be.  And there's no yarn for it yet, because I only kind of know what it's going to be.

I will not freak out.  I will not freak out.  I will not freak out.

A Personal Best, and a Pile of Kindling

First, I would like to thank you, Gentle Readers, for the outstandingly happy Mojo you sent to me on Monday when my Knitting-Fu went on the blink.  Not long after I posted, things started to sort themselves out, and I can only thank you all for it, because I was still sitting in the jinxed chair, knitting with the same hexed hands.  Your power CAN be used for good, and I'm living proof.  So much so, that I'm pleased to announce that I have finished my fair isle vest, get this: In Exactly Seven Days.  Now I know it's not like I created Heaven and Earth in that timespan, but still, it's a personal best.  Add to that, that this is only my second Fair Isle knitting project EVER, and I'm pretty pleased with myself. {For those who haven't heard me blather on about the differences between Fair Isle and Scandinavian colorwork, just trust me - they're different}.

So in the groove of all things Fair Isle was I, that when I got the knitting done, I decided to take another crack at operating my Wooly Board.  Big for my britches much?

The wooly board and I go way back to the time when I found out that I was going to be a Real Knitter, and started to outfit my studio with all the best gear I could collect.  Most of that gear is absolutely outstanding, and gets used hard, every day.  The wooly board is the only piece of equipment I have failed to understand.  And by "failed", I mean that if my fireplace weren't gas-powered, I would have used this thing to fuel it by now.  Time and time again, I have tried to set the damn thing up and use it to block and dry circular-knit garments.  Time and again, I have collapsed under it, wet sweater akimbo and cursing a blue streak.  I just can't make it work.  And worse than that, I can't help but feel that Alice Starmore lied to me personally, when she suggested in her book on Fair Isle knitting that the wooly board is a useful apparatus.

Because of my epic time constraints, I felt I had to try again with it, though, because blocking and drying a tubular garment flat takes forever (two layers of knitting dry really slowly).  So try I did, fortified by desperation and a glass of wine.  I struggled with all the long wooden bars, bolts and knobs, under the dripping mass of my knitting, armed with pliers, vague "directions" pamphlet and sheer force of will.

I offer here, proof that it can be done.  Sort of.  I gave up on using some of the pieces.  I got soaking wet.  I pinched a finger.  I spewed some choice expletives.  And then I walked away.  This morning, it was already dry, lending credence to the notion that a wooly board really is the superior thing when you can't wait around for drying time.  And my faith in Ms. Starmore is restored, although I wish she had some assembly instructions in her book.  So well does the wooly board work, that I find I actually over-blocked the piece.  By which I mean that I was overzealous in my stretching of the wet knitting, and knocked some of the life out of it.  Not to worry though.  Nothing in the world is as resilient as nice sticky 2-ply shetland wool.  A mist of water and some steam on the ironing board relaxed it back into a more natural shape.  It's now reclining comfortably on a towel on top of the hot tub out back.  The sun is shining.  The sky is blue.  And the wooly board has survived yet another of my attempts to use it.  I still have no clue how to use those sleevy-bits though.