And even so, I had to fight myself hard not to put these back in the most neglected corner of my stash (in the bins under the bed). I actually did put back 4 huge balls of bulky and super bulky acrylic yarn, thinking I might knit a small blanket with them. Maybe. Some day.

If I can think of anything I might make with a yarn, something I could actually use, I can’t get rid of it. Unless it’s a yarn that I really hate working with. And even then, it has to be something that has no emotional value. For instance: I bought three balls of different mohairs when I went to Germany a couple of years ago. I’ve since learned that those yarns shed horribly and that I don’t like anything about mohair… But I brought them from Germany!

After a lot of wringing of hands and shuffling yarn from one pile into another and back again, here are the ones I can bring myself to get rid of. Keep in mind that I currently have about 30 367,4 meters or 33 210,6 yards of yarn…

Ah, the bane of my fibery existence: 5 balls of this yellow-orange cotton stuff. The yarn that embodies everything I don’t like. It’s yellow and it’s orange. It’s cotton and non-machine washable. I thought I’d make dishrags out of it but the non-machine washable bit pretty much destroyed that idea.

In principle, a nice yarn. In practice: it’s both turquoise and purple. At first I figured no one would want the ball I’ve used and winded again badly, because it looks like that… but on the other hand, if I get rid of those other two balls, I’ll be left with something even more useless: just a little bit of yarn I don’t want to use. So away it is with the lot of them.

The brown yarn is the last partial ball of the Red Heart acrylic I used for my Thermal. That’s actually a pretty nice yarn to use, but I just finished knitting a whole sweater out of it. Yeah, I can’t stand to even look at it right now.

I’ve learned never to wind yarn like I have done with that beige mohair because if I do, I will never ever want to use that yarn again. It just looks so unappealing. I can’t think what anyone would want to do with that yarn, but maybe it’ll make nice stuffing for a toy, or something.

And finally, the pièce de résistance:

two partial balls of some bouclé yarn – one of the first yarns I ever bought. They’re pink and purple (when have I ever liked any pink or that shade of purple?) and I suppose they must be acrylic. They’re so horrible I didn’t want to put them in the bag because I can’t see anyone else wanting them, either. But the other option is they’ll languish in the bins forever, and one day, after the third world war, only the cockroaches and that yarn will remain.

So goodbye it is. I’m (almost completely) certain I won’t miss them.

Isn’t it great? And not freaky at all.

This mask doesn’t look anything like the pattern.

The pattern is fantastic! The construction is just so elegant and beautiful and perfect. It’s just that I didn’t want to knit my dk weight yarn (Lima from Garnstudio, 65% wool, 35% alpaca) with 2,25 mm needles (like the pattern suggests). The resulting gauge was so tight that it really hurt my hands, and I switched to 4 mm instead. 4 mm for no other reason than that I didn’t have 40 cm circs in any other size.

And so, having already doomed myself to not getting anything resembling the original finished object, I began following the pattern very loosely. I’m practically winging it.

I’ll knit a little bit of neck and then bind off. I’ll still be wearing a scarf with it so it might actually be bad if it went all the way down to the shoulders. I’ll probably run some elastic thread through the cast on edge at the top so the mask will  stay put better and maybe even cover my cheekbones. I look at those pictures and I see my cheeks getting cold.

Reading her (way) earlier Knitting Rules!, I discovered there’s a lot to laugh about when it comes to knitting, and this came as news to me. I loved it. Reading it, I felt a general sense of belonging into this vague entity comprised of knitters. This was what I expected when I opened the newest one as well.

After a few chuckles during the first essay, I found myself frowning quite a lot and thinking hey now, what’s up. But I kept going, wondering when the hilarious part was going to start. And it didn’t. What I read just didn’t tickle my funny bone.

Instead something else happened. Just as soon as I stopped looking for the giggles, I found myself thinking “yes, exactly” a lot.

My heart was entirely shattered when I read October, a text which I felt evoked valuable thoughts when beginning a new year, and the text on Mother’s day made me sadder and wiser. I found solace reading about the time in one’s life when knitting just does not apply.

Chaos math and the happy affair of replacing knitted things made me nod in complete agreement. And finally, I did roar with laughter about the indoors water balloon fight – something I as a kid somehow always knew was A Very Bad Idea Indeed – about Failure to think and many of the other texts.

Now some of the texts just didn’t apply: I have never been approached in public about knitting, and though I live in a cold climate, making one mistake doesn’t easily turn into a life and death situation ’round here, and so on. But it doesn’t matter, really. Because now I know about crytoscopophilia, a condition I, too, share with so many others, and about the screaming injustice of pennies for handmade crochet.

This wasn’t at all what I’d expected. As I closed the book I did that thing I rarely do anymore: I smelled it again, I held it in my hands and felt the texture of its covers, I rifled through its pages, attempting to hold on to that fragile feeling. Having devoured the book in two days, I was left feeling my senses had been awakened, that my world view had been widened. I put it down and picked up my knitting, feeling serene, clear and calm, wiser and sadder, and cheerful.

It’s the shoulders. The last decreases at the shoulder are squarish, and those create square baggy things both in the front and back on the shoulders when I wear the sweater. They go away if I pull at the sleeves and the hem, but come back the instant I move.

I ripped back the shoulder seams several times but no matter what technique I use to sew them, it’s a no go. I even entertained the thought of taking scissors to the square bits, but I can see that idea leading to tears.

I complained about this to my mom, and she suggested I rip back and do the decreases again and make them more rounded. See, that is the perfect fix for the problem. Or it would’ve been, had I thought of it before I said let it be, sewed on the sleeves for once and for all, and weaved in all the ends.

It’s even worse in the back. And also the shoulders are noticeably different from each other. Wah.

All the little problems I have with it are just small enough that I don’t want to go to the trouble of fixing them, but they still bug me.

A bad, bad project deserves bad, bad photos, so here you go:

See? You probably don’t, but it’s a great fit, and the sleeves are nice and long, and I really like the shape of the neckline, and the buttons are cute. I even like the yarn I used, and if you’re a yarn snob you might want to avert your eyes: I used Denver (100 % acrylic) from Red Heart. It was pleasurable to work with and the resulting fabric is soft and has nice drape. It’s just the shoulders, grrr.

I suppose I’ll either get used to it or fix it at some point. Whichever, I feel thoroughly meh about this one.

Wrapped in a blanket and some lovely woollen garments, I’m incredibly comfy in my mom’s home, while outside this (i.e. winter) is going on.

I’m enjoying the last two Christmas gifts I got yesterday. Mom gave  me Stephanie Pearl-McPhee’s newest, All Wound Up. The book is very different from what I expected, with less giggles and laugh-out-loud moments. I suppose the name should’ve been a hint. It’s more annoyed and sombre than the last book of her’s I read (Knitting Rules!)

Mom got me the hardcover version which was a nice surprise. It’s properly bound, too, and beautiful, and smells wonderful and feels good to the touch. This one’s an enjoyment for all the senses… although, ok, fine, I haven’t tasted it.

So I’m reading about knitting, and all the while I’m feeling kind of antsy because I want to knit at the same time! That’s actually pretty hard to do. Unless I had some kind of contraption for holding up the book…

I don’t have a lot to go at all, until: new sweater!

The second Christmas gift I got yesterday? Ever since I found out about the existence of ball winders, I have needed one. The SO decided to fulfill that need this Christmas, and yesterday, it was finally delivered. It’s the Royal ballwinder, made in Japan. At first it seemed kind of flimsy and plasticky, but all doubt was quickly erased.

I tried it immediately, by winding a hank of Trekking Hand Art Flamé from Zitron.

What can I say? It’s perfect. I squealed with joy all the way through – as in, through the whole 5 minutes it took to ball a 100 g hank of yarn. 5 minutes instead of the hour it takes me to do this by hand. And the resulting cake is perfect. Not too tight to put strain on the yarn – not too loose to not hold its shape. Good tools make all the difference

I’m very content today. I’ll make a cup of coffee now and get back to my book.

This is definitely my favorite knitted item now – I’ve used it every day since Christmas. It is great for layering for a bit of extra warmth while not being too hot to wear inside. That tends to be my problem with knitted tops in general. Also, it’s just so silky soft and non-itchy.

The color is perfect for me And it’s the exactly the right size, and the design is quite flattering on me. It almost seems like mom knew exactly what type of clothes I like Definitely part of the reason why I am so taken with it is I know how much time and effort mom spent knitting it. The only problem I have with it is that I want to use it all the time but at the same time I want to save it for special occasions so it’ll last longer.

Mom used Fame Rand from Marks & Kattens and this Novita tunic pattern. So far the yarn has held up really well. The pattern calls for a fuzzy mohair and acrylic blend that’s really light and thick at the same time, which can easily create a tent-like appearance especially when used for tunics. I’m so glad mom decided to change the yarn for the pattern as the Fame Rand created a fabric that drapes beautifully and is much more suitable for non-form fitting clothes than the fuzzy mohair.

That’s it folks I’m going back to knitting my Thermal sweater now.

Only one more sleeve to go, and I cast on for it straight away. Go me.

I have been thoroughly enjoying finishing these WIPs. I can feel this restlessness draining away from me as I wrap up projects that have been out of my eyes but not out of my mind. I guess it says something about my general attitude towards finishing things that I’ve begun – one way or the other. Knitting is a voluntary hobby but it still bothers me so much to know there are loose ends  (see what I did there?) in an area of my life.

Also, soon I will have a new sweater. Yay!

Every time I do stranded knitting, the inside of the work turns out better and neater than the last time. That is way cool.

I’ve had the bamboo double pointed needles I used for these for years now, and I never used them before. I think they were one of the first needles I ever bought when I started knitting in 2007. They’re on the sharp side, which meant a really painful knitting experience at the time.

But now that I no longer have the beginner knitter’s death grip and my gauge has mellowed (the yarn no longer creaks when I knit), these turned out to be awesome needles. I think I only used them because all my other 3 mm needles were in use, but I’m glad I did. At least Prym’s bamboo needles have just the right amount of grip for neat stranded knitting.

Looking at the pictures, I can see that I’ve made some mistakes, but I probably won’t want to fix them (I would duplicate stitch the mistakes away). When I start using these, no one is going to notice one stitch in the wrong place – including me.

]]> http://knitted.wordpress.com/2012/01/03/insect-mittens-nice/feed/ 5 Marjukka buttonss 006 buttonss 002 buttonss 011 buttonss 013 http://knitted.wordpress.com/2012/01/02/clessidra/ http://knitted.wordpress.com/2012/01/02/clessidra/#comments Mon, 02 Jan 2012 12:18:27 +0000 bamboo#1 http://knitted.wordpress.com/?p=1203 ]]> I finished one of those works in progress I lamented earlier. I hadn’t realized this, but I began knitting these socks last March, soooo it only took me a neat 9  months to finish. If I recall correctly, I first took a break from these because they’re a bit on the complex side, and not what you’d call relaxing tv knitting… and then the break stretched on a bit.

Mostly, it says something nice about the pattern and this yarn that I eventually just took the time to knit the other sock as well.

The pattern is Clessidra from the 2007 spring issue of Knitty and I used almost 200 g of Sockenwolle (fingering weight, 100 g = 300 m) from Seehawer & Siebert. I didn’t feel like messing around with stitch numbers to make these bigger, so I used a bigger needle size than the pattern suggests. In the end, this of course forced me to knit fewer rows between calf shaping rows, and fewer rows in the heel flap… thereby completely defeating the whole point of changing the needle size in the first place. Hah!

Mm this color is delicious. I have absolutely no clothes that go together with it and I don’t even care. The yarn is lovely – gives nice stitch definition and is still soft. Instead of the usual acrylic to strengthen the wool, this yarn has some ramie in it. Ramie is, apparently, a plant. Weird! It’ll be interesting to see how well these hold up in use.

It started when I was a kid. Often (it seemed it was often, although in reality I think it happened maybe twice), I was playing outside with my brother, and would find a timberman beetle had dropped from a tree into my hair. It was difficult to get them out, because they’d grab onto my hair with their disgusting feet. I can still remember how horrifying it felt – I could never ever touch an insect, but now I had to touch one or let it stay in my hair.

Timberman beetles especially horrify me – ladybugs, not so much. That is, until now. (que duh-duh-duuuh music)

When my significant other and I moved into this apartment a couple of years ago, I noticed a ladybug between the first two window panes in the kitchen window. I left the bug there, because it was in an inaccessible place. It was kind of cute, too, with its little toes up in the air.

When the weather started getting warmer the next spring, more ladybugs started appearing in our flat. At first I thought they’re kind of ok as long as they stay away from me. Until more came, and then more. When fall came, I opened the windows to clean them… and revealed that they had nested in great big heaps in the window frames. Dozens of dried up husks of ladybugs floated in the water and riddled my rags as I washed and dried the windows. The pointlessness of their demise – to be born and then die in a little hollow in the window – only served to underline how deeply disturbing these insects were for me.

I thought that was that. I had destroyed the hive, the source of the evil. The scourge was over – more would not come.

But no. They keep coming. They’re everywhere. I come across some outside our apartment, as well – they must have infested the whole building. Only this morning I was going to the basement to do some laundry, and another one was sitting on the stairs, taunting me.

Lately they have started attacking me. I’ll be sitting here, knitting, minding my own business, when something tickles my neck. More often than not, as I absent-mindedly brush my skin, I’ll feel the little wriggly feet against my fingers, and I’ll yelp and throw the disgusting critter away.

SO thinks I’m insane – I have to stop myself and not throw the next one away, so it won’t be able to hide. That’ll show him.

They’re crafty little devils, and will use their dirty, dirty wings to flutter away after assaulting me, leaving me on my knees, combing through the carpet. I would not be able to kill one, because it would make that cracking sound, but I would contain it, and leave it to die of old age. SO might object to an up-side-down glass or some such being left in the middle of the floor, but he does not understand. THEY ARE REAL, I swear.

I looked today, several of them had crawled into one of the lamps to die. I believe they are attracted by the brightness of my display and hit me on their graceless flight towards it, and after I repel them, they continue toward the next bright spot in the room, only to fry and die a slow, burning death BUAHAHAHAA!…

Krhm.

So, what, you may ask, has this to do with knitting?

Apparently, lots, because I started knitting a pair of bug mittens for myself. Maybe facing my fear will help me deal with it, maybe harnessing their power to protect me from the cold will be the sweet revenge I so crave. Mostly, I have no clue why I’m doing these. I hate those creepy crawlies. *shudder*

The pattern is called Entomology. It was designed by Adrian Bizilia, and was published in the book Knitalong. I’m using what I believe to be leftover 7 veljestä from Novita (an aran weight wool blend, found in my stash) and 3 mm needles.