Heroes and Ravens

Photo by Mette Urdahl

This is Annemor Sundbo, and she is my hero.  She saved Norwegian knitting for Norway, and for knitters everywhere, by rescuing a ragpile.  A great article that tells you more about her experiences is HERE, but the summary is this:  As the new owner of Torridal Tweed, a shoddy mill where wool was sent for reprocessing into comforter and sleeping bag filler, Annemor discovered over 16 tons of knitting, waiting to be shredded.  And a lot of that knitting was handmade.  And a lot of that knitting was the only record of the way Norway knitted.

Because she was a fiber artist who knew what she was looking at, Annemor saved, and studied and cataloged the treasures in her ragpile.  The journey of discovery she began in the early 1980s culminated last year in her being named an official National Treasure of Norway, and still continues today.  She spoke to the knitters of Seattle's Nordic Heritage Museum last weekend, and I had the great good fortune to meet her.

Photo by Annemor Sundbo

This sweater fragment was pulled from a gap in a wall, where it had been insulating against the cold.  Long past its usefulness as something to wear, it still was doing its job of keeping out the chills.  Annemor fell in love with its eight-pointed stars, which set her on her path of exploration of the symbolism of Norwegian hand knitting.

What was it like to meet my hero?  Nearly everything I would have hoped.  She held a mitten I was working on and proclaimed it good.  She asked what I was teaching.  When I responded that it would be introductory stranded knitting, she said she wished all the students could come to me first.  She graciously accepted a copy of my book from me.  I wanted so much to tell her what her heroic deeds have meant to me:

That without her I would never have learned as much about Scandinavian stranded colorwork as I have, living so far away from Norway.

That if she hadn't done what she did, Norway and all the rest of us might have forgotten how knitting used to be.

That the ripples of her actions have spread farther and wider than she ever could have imagined, changing my life , and probably many others.

Instead, I choked.  I gagged out something like "Thank you for so much for everything". and slunk away, because I was afraid I was going to cry, I was so overcome.  But before I did, I pointed to a photo in my book of the ravens I invented:

I wanted to show her somehow that we speak the same language, and I think she understood.  Here are Annemor's ravens; knitted long before I was born, by someone she never met:

For one of the VERY few times in my life where the power of speech abandoned me, I'm glad I at least was still able to point at a picture.
 

Classes, and More Classes

My newest class (inspired by my new book), "Knitting Behind the Wheel", debuted last weekend, and did we ever have fun! The knitters of the Fort Vancouver Guild were game for a challenge, and really rose to the occasion.

Get a load of their yarn-y color wheels:  I now know what's at the end of the rainbow:  Knitters!

As soon as we parted ways, I needed to mentally shift gears because I only have until this Thursday to prepare for the Nordic Knitting Conference, in Seattle.  There are still slots available in some of my classes, by the way, so if you're in the area, come and celebrate history, tradition, and knitting with us (details HERE).

Looking over my teaching schedule for the weekend I remembered that I had yet to design the new mitten for my "Fearless Two-Color Mittens" class.  Bother.  I snapped into action, reminding myself that sometimes the best work happens when you don't have the luxury of time to think.  It's a class about the basics, after all, so not having time to get too fancy is probably a good constraint for me.  What would I need?  Draw a chart with traditional motifs?  Check.  White yarn? Check.  Black yarn to match?  Not so much:

Into the dyebath with you, stash yarn!  Sorry about your deeply unfortunate grass green color, but it'll have to go. 
 

While I waited for it to change color, I stumbled upon the buttons I had hoarded to go with the desert island periwinkle yarn.  Could there be dreamier buttons?  They are newly pressed glass from the Czech Republic, made in antique molds from the 20s.  So. Sparkly.  My inner crow smugly preens her feathers.

No time for that today, though; now that the green yarn is black, I'm doing this:

Yes, this is a beginner's class, hence "Fearless!"  We're going to spend the morning unraveling the mysteries of knitting with two strings at the same time, and in the afternoon we'll learn the anatomy of a Norwegian mitten.

And speaking of beginning Stranded Colorwork, next weekend I'm scheduled to teach "2 Strings = Not Scary" HERE, in Forest Grove, OR.  Come and play with us for a fun-filled three hours, while I explain the only two things you have to know to make this hat (and you'll get the pattern, of course)!

Thus commences the whirlwind of Autumn Knitting Season.  Don't you just love it when it's time to knit again?
 

On Edge(s)

My swell new book arrived:

I dove right in, excited to enhance my knowledge of knitted beginnings and endings.  Would you believe that I actually contributed to this book, and then forgot all about it?  It was almost three years ago, at Rhinebeck, when I launched my first book.  Across the aisle from my signing table were the lovely ladies of Green Mountain Spinnery, with whom I made friends.  Cap was there, and told me all about how she was making a book of cast ons and bind offs.  I offered her the best one I know, in case she hadn't heard of it.  And then I forgot all about it.  When I picked out this book, I had completely amnesia-ed our meeting.  But when the book arrived, Whoosh!  It all came back to me! 

Cap has done an outstanding job with this volume, and I'm not just saying so because she included my contribution.  The format is big and glossy, the binding (spiral) lies flat so you can actually work from it, and the photos and illustrations are sparkling-clear.  I promise, there are a lot of great new tricks in here, and a few old ones you might have forgotten about, too.  Get your copy HERE; you'll be glad you did.

And best of all, Cap came through with the very thing I was hoping for:  A way to cast on IN PATTERN!  That's right!  It's actually possible to work your cast on stitches one direction for knits, and another for purls.  I always suspected somebody must have figured out how to do this; I just had to wait until Cap wrote it down for me.  It's done with a version of the long-tail cast on (page 32, when you get your copy), and it really does work:

Here's the boring old "Cable Cast On" I settled for on the back of the sweater.

And here is the new and improved super-sexy "Cast On In Pattern" I used for the Right Front!

Yes, I know the difference is subtle, and anyone who would be able to tell the difference is probably way too close to the edge of my sweater.  But there's just something so satisfying about knowing you have really found the best possible tool for the job...Can I get a knitters' Amen for Cast-On smugness?  Yeah, baby.

Back's done.  Right Front's Done.  First sleeve's cast on.  Somebody stop me.