Sundays, We Go Shopping

I have finished my Desert Island sweater.  I even wore it last weekend, which surprised me a little because I'm usually out of love with my projects by the time I get them done, and I have to send them to time out for a while before I can bond with them as garments. 

And I'm also delighted to report that it's time to start the class sample for my Madrona Winter Retreat steeks class!  Which I am ready to do, having cleverly finished my periwinkle sweater (for once), right on time. 

Except the mailman still has my yarn.  So I can't start yet. 

And it would be dumb to start something else, because as soon as I do, the yarn will come, and there I'll be.  Yes, I do have the ability to put down one project and begin another, but it just seems like I should be able to control myself for like, A Day.  You know?  I've been catching up on other work instead.  I assaulted the north face of Mount Washmore.  Not that anyone could tell.  I finished the one last mitten thumb.  I hand-rolled hems onto some pretty pieces of silk I got to make scarves with.  I took stock of my dress shirt collection, re-sewed buttons and ironed them.  And when I couldn't find anything else to put it off with, I groomed the Scotties.  They were very good.  Well, 50% of them were very good.  Paisley was decidedly unhappy with the process, and Phillip had to hold her up for me to trim her feet.  But we all survived, and then endured the kitchen scouring that follows every dog-grooming (OCD + Dog hair near food prep areas = guaranteed 1/2 day scrubfest).  After that I decided we all needed a treat, so Lindsay and I loaded the pets up and we went for a doggie shopping trip:

I have it in my head that I really should knit them some sweaters.  But I've never made a dog sweater before, and the patterns I've seen don't look like they are quite right for a couple of long-backed, short-legged hooligans.  No, what's wanted here is Market Research.  We went to the pet store, and tried on sweaters.  Which turned out to be fun for 25% of us.  I did not enjoy squishing the struggling pups into ill-fitting doggy outerwear, and the pets liked it even less.  Lindsay, however, howled with laughter for the whole operation.  Just one more service I provide. 

We took home a couple of machine-sewn acrylic numbers, both for reference, and to keep the newly-shorn cozy while I work out my pattern.  A few new toys and treats may also have found their way into the cart.  Lindsay pointed out that I'm no longer trying to pretend not to be a weird Dog Lady.  "How do you know?" I asked.  "Um, your dogs have on sweaters and they're riding around in a shopping cart.  Which part has you confused, Mom?"  I'm still working on my snappy comeback.  So far, I got nothin.
 
I hope the yarn comes soon.  The Cats haven't got any sweaters either, I notice.
 

Knit and Spin at Aurora

Tomorrow I'm teaching at the Aurora Colony Handspinners Guild, in Canby Or.  Every October this group holds their annual workshops and all day Spin-In.  Workshops are open to non-members for the unimaginably low price of only $25 for a half-day!  If you find yourself close by, come to class with me!  In the morning I'm teaching "Stranded In Your Socks", an introduction to stranded colorwork for socks, and in the afternoon, it's "Start to Finish", where we work on how to plan for the finishing of your project before you start knitting it.  Neither class requires homework, so just bring yourself (and a friend!).  See you there!

Bangin' Buttonholes

My relentlessly fiddly pursuit of the sexiest cardigan placket EVER had me researching buttonholes yesterday.  I needed a small, but not-too-small one that looks tidy and holds firm.  Montse Stanley to the rescue.  And lest you think that I don't have any other knitting reference books, let me assure you that I do; I just usually start with this one, and it rarely lets me down.  The buttonhole I found here is, in a word, Perfect.  I can't believe I never bothered looking it up before, and I'm so excited about it I just had to show it to you.

Our beloved Montse has the eccentricity of speaking English, which, as we knitters sometimes discover, is not the same thing as speaking American.  Case in point:  On page 195 of my dog-eared copy, she entreats us to "K-b2tog".  Which abbreviation eluded translation for me completely.  I looked everywhere I could think for some explanation of that move, with no success (If you know what it means, please post a comment so I can sleep tonight).  My best guess is that she's telling us to knit two together through the back loops, but I wouldn't bet my cashmere on it.  I pressed on anyway, realizing that the working together of two stitches (through back loops or otherwise) wasn't really the salient point of the operation.  Assuming that we're supposed to somehow turn two stitches into one, I followed the rest of the instructions, and Presto!  Magnifico.  With my apologies to Montse and all other speakers of English, Here are my translated instructions for the "Large Eyelet Buttonhole": 

In this sample, I'm working in 1 x 1 rib, but this hole can be made in knitting of any pattern.  The operation happens over the course of three rows, but don't let that make you nervous; it's supremely easy.

Step 1  (On the Right Side) is to work up to the place you'd like to make a buttonhole, and work two stitches together.  In this case I worked an SSK, which caused a knit stitch to discretely cover its purl neighbor.  Next you make a DOUBLE YO, which amounts to simply wrapping the working yarn around the right needle twice.  Then you just finish the row as if nothing special were happening at all.  Remember: you can work any sort of decrease you like the look of (or remember how to do), and you can make the double YO on either side of it.  What matters is that you work two stitches together, and that the YO be doubled.

Step 2 happens on the Wrong Side.  You just work in pattern right up to the double YO and do to it whatever you would have done if it were a normal stitch.  In this case, it's a knit, so that's all I have to do.  Even though there are two wraps around the needle, it's still only one stitch, as you'll discover as soon as you work it - the extra wrap just falls off the needle, making a larger-than-usual stitch:

Step 3 is done on the Right Side, and this is where all the magic happens.  You know I'm a slave to sexy party tricks, and this one is a PIP!  

You just work in pattern right up to that big ol' sloppy stitch (can't miss it: it's the ugly one that's making your gums bleed).  Then you stick your needle through the hole and make the same stitch you would have if this were a normal row of knitting.  In my case, a purl.  Now take a deep breath and DROP the next stitch right off the needle.  Continue on in pattern to the end of the row.  The stitch you dropped is held in place by the one you worked THROUGH the hole.  I know.  I didn't believe it either, until I did it.  Nine Times:

All that's left after those three steps is to finish the placket, or whatever, and congratulate yourself on your immaculate buttonhole execution.  Neat as a pin, and twice as sharp.  And you even stuck the landing.
 

Now go tell your friends.  This one's too good not to share.