Intarsia Gives Me A Toothache

I have lots of favorite knitting styles.  Intarsia is not one of them.  The items made using intarsia are not (usually) my cup of tea.  The techniques required to make intarsia are counter-intuitive to me.  And worst of all, the snarled spaghetti of the many separate yarn sources required to work intarsia are more than I can reasonably handle.  I have to limit myself to unsnarling them only when I am no longer able to advance the working strands properly, or I would just sit around untangling, without ever knitting a stitch.  Phillip's observation:  "Is it supposed to look like that?"  Yes.  "Woah.  You don't do "Hot Mess" very well.  That must be driving you bat-shit."  Dude knows me well.

BUT, all of that whinging aside, I am the one who cleverly agreed to write a book containing intarsia as a colorwork technique.  I am also the one who suggested that I design some projects with it, in order to demonstrate the technique.  So there it is.  What's wanted here is less sniveling, and more knitting.

To that end, I am now embracing my inner intars-er, and pouring all the love and light I can find into this piece of work.  I created a motif I love, in a design that tickles me, and is something I have never made before.  Ergo, I am a happy designer.  As a knitter, though, I'm just pushing through the wall.  And yes, I have heard of bobbins, whose arrival in the mail I am eagerly awaiting.  And I tried "butterflies", but it ended badly.  Any other suggestions are welcome, however.  Turning to you, Gentle Readers, has never failed me yet, so lay the know-how on me if you will.

If anybody needs me, I'll be over here; sitting under the Hot Mess.

The Sock of Defiance

It was really only a matter of time.  When a person, who is also a knitter, has a rebellious streak a mile wide, it matters not against WHAT there is to rebel.  In this case, I'm knitting in defiance of my publisher's deadline.  Totally delusional time-management expectations?  No problem!  I'll just make my mom a lace birthday sock.

Maybe it's to do with the realization that the number of birthdays I have left to celebrate with my mom is dwindling.  Maybe it's a backlash against all the colorwork I've been up to.  I just really wanted to make a sock.  And while a PAIR of socks would be preferable, and undoubtedly more useful, there is a distinct possibility that I will be forced to wait a while before starting #2.  My mom, who has never been known as a finisher of projects, will be the first to understand if she only ever receives this single.

Not that I wouldn't like to make another.  In fact, for the first time in memory, I'm sorta jazzed to start the other one right away.  Which makes perfect sense in light of the fact that this rebelion knitting, and not sanctioned, career-advancing, bill-paying knitting.  Of course this is the first and only time I've eluded the dreaded second sock syndrome.
 

The fact is that I've been pounding my head against the wall with a roaring case of writers' block.  My friend Jill says it's because I'm not dealing yet with the loss of my father.  She might be right.  I can't deny that a little quiet time at the ocean would be good for my perspective about now.  But that's just not in the cards at the moment.  So I guess I've been taking the only vacation I can:  Defiant Sock Knitting. 

All that aside, I have a pressing need to return to my regularly-scheduled book knitting.  And "pressing" here means Urgent and Undeniable, even by a world-class Deny-er, such as myself. 

Time to go back below and pull on the oars some more.  Isn't it ghastly how even something you love can still turn into work?

All DPNs, All The Time

It could be due to last week's prolonged exposure to all things sock, but I just noticed that I have three projects going at the same time, and they are all on DPNs:

Here's a sock (knee high) that I somehow managed not to finish at Sock Summit.  No idea what I must have been doing with my time.  Call me unsophisticated, but I really love a stockinette sock.  There is no better way to really see what yarn is like than to make a nice smooth tube out of it:

And here's my mom's 78th birthday sock.  It's my first-ever cable-and-lace sock attempt.  The pattern is called Clover, and it's really fun to make!  Among Clover's many charms is the fact that I didn't design it.  Sometimes following a pattern that somebody else has already perfected can be like going on vacation.  This is a particularly guilty pleasure because other people's sock patterns are definitely NOT on my book writing production schedule.  But how often is your mom going to turn 78?  We are not savages here, after all:

And finally, I'm pleased to tell you that I get to teach a class about mittens at Seattle's Nordic Heritage Museum, the first weekend of November.  I'm making something special for them that I really love.  Sneak Peek:

But this is the best part.  I sat next to Teri Shea at the Sock Summit opening ceremonies.  In between snacks and speakers, she graciously showed me how to properly gusset a Selbu mitten thumb.  I've been working slot-style thumbs on all my Selbuvotter, partly because I thought the technique would be too hard to teach (totally not true) and partly because I thought it would be too hard to learn (also a complete delusion):

Hard to get knitting sexier than that.  And it's completely anatomically correct, unlike a thumb slot.  Sorry thumb slots: Working you has been a really useful hack, but now that I know how the pros do it, I'm afraid you're dead to me.  You'll always have a place in my knitting.  It's just at the bottom of the basket now. 

And Ms. Shea, if you're listening, I'm converted:  Your work here is done.  I'm one step closer to becoming you when I grow up.

So all my knitting is pointy today.  The coffee table, and the arms of my knitting chair, and my lap, are hedgehoggy with DPNs.  Nice work, if you can get it.