Sassy Does It

Work has been sucking down my free time pretty hard.

I’m a little down for the count after a busy week on the road. We had a huge meeting, one for which I’d been planning strategy and logistics for months. Once it finally arrived, it was as expected - long hours, little sleep, lots of stress. Mixed with fun - can’t say I didn’t enjoy.

And, I’m happy to say that it went down smoothly - mission accomplished. But you know how it works - being able to sit back and enjoy the peace after this would be too easy.

As soon as I took my foot off the gas, my body reminded me that it had been working overtime to support my excessive demands. Within 90 minutes of wrapping my meeting, the tatters of my immune system raised the white flag.

The flu, or something resembling it, came home to roost.

But so it goes - I guess it’s my turn.

In between squirting that sinus-clearing stuff up my nose and enduring the general malaise of sore joints, I might get some knitting done.

Poor, lost-in-the-shuffle knitting. By the time I finish my projects, both of which are winterish, summer will be here.

I made good progress on Maizy’s socks on the plane back from England a couple of weeks ago. Then I realized I needed my 2-at-a-Time Socks book in front of me to remember the instructions for turning the heel. Winging it resulted in losing more time cleaning up the mess I made of it, so I just put it back in the bag and congratulated myself on finally finishing the length of the sock up until the heel (at long last).

Kymber’s birthday gift didn’t quite get done while I was still with her for her birthday in the UK. I made huge progress on it while I was there, but after a few days of turbo-knitting while half-looking people in the eye through my needles during conversation, I reconsidered.  Better than getting it done in time for her b-day, I decided, was to cozy up next to my friends with a cup of tea or a glass of wine and give our interaction my full attention while I still had the privilege of sitting righttherenexttothem.

In short: the Sheer Poncho is still not freaking done, but it has become more fabulous by the inch.

Since this photo, I decided to pull through a yarn stitch holder along the bottom of the poncho so that I could go ahead and knock off the cowl before continuing with more (possibly superfluous) length. It’ll be easier to tell how long it needs to be once the cowl is on, I think.

Or maybe I was just bored with the body and hungry for the more frequent increases of the cowl.

I think I’ll have plenty of yarn, but I’d rather finish the cowl with confidence that I can make it as bulky and swishy as I want and not worry about how much I’ll need for the rest of the body length.

So. Er, I guess that’s it on the knitting.

In the absence of any other knitting progress, I’ll post a few photies from my vacation.

First, I was in the north of England with Kymber and her blossoming fam (you’ll remember the recent addition of Little K, the recipient of Curlicue). In spite of the general chilly drizzly weather at this time of year along the northeast coast of England, we had some beautiful days of walking. The area near the Scottish border has lots of places to explore - castles and rocky coastlines and sea-hugging little villages.

One of these is a tiny island called Lindisfarne - complete with just such a village and a castle that were fun to take in on a sunny, crisp winter day. This is a tidal island, meaning that you can access it only by driving across the sandy strip around it from the mainland when the tide is out. No bridge. Just a tidal table that tells you what time you won’t get stuck.

It’s also called Holy Island - a place rooted in religious history beginning with the founding of a monastery there in 635 AD. The ruins of a comparatively new-fangled priory that was built in 1150 stand there today.

We meandered around and made our way out to the castle. I accidentally wandered a little too close to a few sheep who freaked me out with baa-ing and dirty looks, but I guess it could be interpreted as me freaking them out first. I’m not good with animals - there, I said it.

We embarked on what really should be coined a Sticky Toffee Tour while in the North. Pretty much every meal needed to end with sticky toffee pudding. If there was a chance that the restaurant or pub we were considering for lunch did not offer such goodness, well, move it along, folks. We’ll take our bulging waistlines to the next place until we’re satisfied.

On top of the sticky toffee, I consumed a whole lot of cheese and chocolate, not to mention the wine and Irish coffees.

Oh yeah…I brought home a little extra jiggle with me from this holiday.

Before I left England I swung through London to see my pals there, and it was so lovely to see them.  Frankly, though, what I’ll remember most from this visit will be the snow. Not that there isn’t a smattering of snow from time to time in London, but it’s very rare to have inches and inches fall down and stick.

I was walking back to the neighborhood where I was staying on the last night there when the snow that had flurried earlier in the day started to pick up. Even after I popped into a pub for an hour (oh joy, a pint, my laptop, my knitting, and happy pub-goers chatting around me - does it get better?), the snow kept coming.

After a gratuitous parmesan-filled dinner at a little Italian place, I emerged on the street again. Soft, heavy snowflakes that stayed on my nose and eyelashes, just like Julie Andrews likes them. What fun! Even the locals were snapping pictures; flashes were coming out of flats all the way down the street as people stuck their heads out windows to watch the happenings below.

I’d taken a few pics earlier when the snow started accummulating, but by the time dinner was done it was even more important to capture for posterity. Too bad my camera battery died and I didn’t snap as many more as I might have done, but the memory of the thick flakes piling up all over - so outside of their natural habitat! - will stay with me.

In the morning, I was still happy but the natives were restless. It was beautiful, to be sure - nearly six inches on top of everything - but the fun had stopped for much of London. Nothing runs quite the same way with this kind of “adverse weather” (as the Voice of God making announcements in the tube called it). It was nearly impossible to get to Heathrow, but I did manage to sleuth my way there to try to catch my flight out that day. Much of the airport was closed altogether, and most of my day was shot with travel delays…but it was worth it. The snow was just so cool. Cold, even. Ha.

OK. Enough blogging. Back to knitting. Wish me luck finishing something.

In the spirit of basking in fall goodness (and in Halloween preparation mode, in Squeezer’s case), we ventured out recently to get ourselves a spiffy pumpkin.  We’d previously picked up some smaller pumpkins for baking, but we were in need of a bit of ceremony, and thus journeyed out to a neighboring town with wider open spaces and plenty of pumpkin patches.

Immediately upon return back home, Squeezer wielded the knife and gave our new friend a toothy grin.

Boy howdy, that girl doesn’t waste a minute in getting projects like this started (and finished) - she’s my hero.  The pumpkin was carved and propped on our front porch within 20 minutes.

The crisp fall air inspired me inpsired to whip up some pumpkin-based dinner that evening. 

I removed a couple of cups’ worth of pumpkin pieces (as previously frozen from the cut-up baking pumpkins we’d bought a few weeks earlier) and altered a favorite go-to recipe from Mediterrasian.com (a fan-freaking-tastic site) to create the following:

Pumpkin Curry Soup
1 tablespoon canola or peanut oil
1 onion—chopped
3 cloves garlic—chopped
2 teaspoons red curry paste
2 cups of fresh pumpkin —peeled and roughly chopped
1 cup red lentils (or yellow split peas)
3 cups vegetable stock
1 cup coconut milk (less if desired)
1 heaping teaspoon each of ground cumin and coriander
pinch of cinnamon and nutmeg
2 teaspoons brown sugar
2 tablespoons lemon juice
fresh cilantro

Lightly brown the garlic, then add the onion; cook for a few minutes.  Add red curry paste and cook for 1 minute, stirring constantly.   Add the pumpkin, red lentils, stock, coconut milk, spices, and brown sugar and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat and simmer, covered, for 20-30 minutes.  Puree the soup in food processor until smooth, then add lemon juice, salt and pepper to taste.   Add a few tablespoons of fresh cilantro and serve.  Serve with a dollop of nonfat natural yogurt and garnish of cilantro and freshly ground black pepper. 

Too bad I didn’t take a picture to share with you.  It was so pretty.  And so delicious and warm and cozy.

Other reminders of cozy fall goodness include the wooly comfort of The Big Project (Bidie-In has now shortened his name for this sweater to just TBP), with which I’ve made the opposite of progress.

Yeah, I frogged my Fisherman’s Sweater, like, entirely.

It was just getting a little too baggy.  And by a little I mean a lot. 

Even after the first few inches of stockinette I knew it was on the big side for Bidie, but I hoped it would be within the margin of error for “big, cozy, hot-toddy-by-the-fire” sweaters. 

Then I held up my in-progress front and back pieces to the actual width of Bidie this weekend.  Ah…no.  

The wool I’m using has a bit more give than the acrylic blend from which my seaworthy-sweater-model was knit.  This makes “a little baggy” more like the way-too-droopy clothes on the kid version of Tom Hanks in Big after the Zoltar wish machine brings him back when he’s done being an adult.

This problem is exacerbated a *teensy* bit by the fact that I screwed up with the gauge at the very beginning. 

I know, I was shocked too, because usually the smoking gun of improper sizing doesn’t simply lead back to the fact that the dimensions of the starter swatch were completely ignored.

Bit too quick to green-light the gauge for Rowan Plaid on US 11s. 

Hello!  Look at this picture! 

In spite of the photographic evidence shown here that clearly illustrates how NOT close the size of the brown stitches is to that of the off-white stitches, I think I just thought my swatch was close enough to the existing knit gauge to base my design roughly on the number of stitches of the prototype pattern rather than the actual measurements. 

[boo, hiss]

I know.

Argh, rookie mistake!  I should have either tried a smaller needle or adjusted my first swipe at the design, or both.  Which is what I’ve now done.

Frogging it isn’t that big of a catastrophe, though, really.  Don’t feel sorry for me.  The yarn knits up at about 3 stitches/inch, even on a size 10½ needle, so it’ll knit up fast all over again.  And the yarn wears/frogs well, so it’ll look fine the second time around.  I hope. 

Right.  Done with the ripping out part, starting with the re-doing part.  Yes!

Swatching now on US 10½, I can see the fabric holds its shape a bit more to my liking.  And my design notes are headed in the right direction, too.  I’m using a bit more actual math, boys and girls, in converting the real gauge (not a pretend one) into a number of stitches based on the desired finished dimensions.  Capital idea.

In other news, my 2-at-a-time Practice Socks are off the 40-inch Addi Turbo Lace needles (still sexy, as previously reported).  The Raindrop Lace Socks, bless their wee hearts, are on.  Really and truly.

Although it was touch and go during my first hour or four of learning the 2-at-a-time method, I’m happy to report that once I hit my activation energy I was off and running, with fairly infrequent consternation.  Perseverance led me through the initial (heavy) cursing at tangled yarn to a happy harmony of satisfying, quicker-paced sock knitting.

At the heel flap

At the heel turn

Best tip I’ve garnered so far from Melissa Morgan-Oakes, other than the actual technique of keeping both socks on the needles at all times, was to put the ball of yarn in a Ziploc and pull two ends of yarn from the ball (one center-pull and one from the outside) and poke a little hole in each bottom corner of the bag, such that one end of yarn comes out each side.  Then any (short) length of yarn that is stretching from the bag to the needles doesn’t get tangled.  Smart.

These two little guys would need blocking before gifting (due to my beginner’s inconsistency), but we’ll see if I end up gifting them at all.  I don’t think I have enough of the green sock yarn to do another, even small, one.   Maybe I’ll whip up a second tiny beige one on its own.  We’ll see.

More soon.  Cannot wait to show you my new yarn coming from WEBS - yes, Allison, I went for the bonus yarn and told the boys in Massachusetts to throw another few logs on the fire with my order (boys = boys or girls, logs = skeins, fire = pile of yarn).

Two words: Cash. Mere.

Cannot. Wait.

Yippity doo dah, my first pair of socks is officially done!

I had the dreaded well-loved second sock off the needles nearly a week ago, but it took me a wee while to get around to taking and posting the photos.

Pattern:  Braided Cable & Broken Seed Socks, by Lauren Lindenman

Yarn:  Trekking Pro Natura (75% new wool, 25% bamboo), almost one skein in color 1512

Pretty happy with these pups.  For my first figure-it-out-as-I-went pair, they’ve drawn encouranging compliments, for a pattern that’s not too tough:

From one of the middle-aged TSA guys at Bangor International Airport (yeah, I’m guessing that it’s barely international; maybe a few planes prance across the Maine border to Canada):  “Ohhh, what’re you making, there, miss?  Ohhh, that’s very pretty.”  Since when do these guys notice knitting?

From Bidie-In:  “Wow, I can’t believe this is something that can be made my hand.  It’s so intricate.”  Thanks, honey.

From Squeezer:  “When you’re done with these, can I have some that are cropped low at the ankle?”  In other words, “You adults wear dorky tall socks.  I want cool socks, like all normal people.”

Maizy also requested socks.  When asked the color, she said, “Umm, red.”  When asked how long, she said, “Maybe…up to here [pointing at her toes].  No, maybeeee…up to here [pointing to her upper thigh]“.  Ah, yes, thigh-highs - this is a niece of mine.

I like the cables on these because…well, I like cables.  The broken seed stitch around them has a really nice texture and feels nice on the old peds.  Substantial-feeling without being heavy in weight.

The yarn was very nice to work with.  Not splitty, not scratchy, not easily knotted.  Nicely spun, with a very slight, barely distinguishable heathery effect (I had this fiber up close to my eyes for quite a while, so maybe I hallucinated that part).

The color I like, but this is not shocking because a) I picked it out, and b) everything I pick out lately is either this shade of green (between sage and olive) or baby blue.  Often both.  Note that the pics of my socks here include in the environs my bag du jour (it’s colorful cotton, compliments of Target; I put the leather on the shelf for a few months to give it a rest), which is - green and blue.  Also in the pic is my baby-blue-covered phone, and yes, the green knitted socks. Not an intentional set up for the photo, but I suppose this strengthens the point.

One skein (459 yds) was plenty for this project.  Had 50-60 yds leftover; could’ve made the socks a bit longer, but they’re fine the way they are.  I like the idea of doing toe-up socks so that you can determine how long you can make them (if you’re good at guessing the halfway point of your skein after one sock).

Even better, you could do the socks two at a time on a circular needle, that way they have to stay the same length.

Well, yee-haw, it’s a good thing I have a book to show me how to do this, because that’s how I want to do my next pair, the Raindrop Lace Socks.  Those poor things are still hanging around at 0% completion since I set them up for Ravelympics, but I refuse to take the socks off of In Progress status because I’m going to cast them on any day. 

Any moment. 

Or day.

I am learning the two-at-a-time method via Melissa Morgan-Oakes, whose 2-at-a-Time Socks finally got cracked open from its perch on my bedside table.

While I’m telling you about it, I might as well make it a book review.

I like the way Melissa writes, and I like her thorough yet I-know-you’re-not-dumb approach with photos and enough words of description to get the concepts across.  She’s not claiming she’s split the atom with this method:  obviously it’s been done before, but she’s just compiling her thoughts on the matter.  With some pretty pics.

There’s a nice feature included for each design:  a close-up photo of the stitch pattern.  Detail like this is often overlooked, but it’s very helpful. 

Although - I might have been led down the garden path here.  She talked about teaching at WEBS in her intro; and given my Pavlovian repsonse to the mention of WEBS, I may have been predisposed to like her.

Stay tuned.  I’m still learning with little practice colors.

Anyhoot, the book itself has a lot of cutesy patterns that I could see becoming holiday gifts.  I didn’t buy the book for the patterns, just the technique, but I do like what I see.  Anything that makes the process of churning out a pair of socks quicker, thereby motivating me to actually cast on and motor through a project, is probably a good investment.

There’s a nice pattern for men’s socks in there - a pair he could wear to work.  Here are a smattering of those and other photos that caught my eye in the book:

Upon paging through this book herself, Squeezer again commented on how all of the socks are “too tall.”  I reminded her that this was the joy of knitting, my dear, that we can stop knitting when we want the socks to not get any taller. 

No worries, Squeeze - I hear you loud and clear.  Cropped-at-the-ankle socks are what the cool kids are wearing - I get it. 

[scurries off to tell Santa to cancel that order for too-tall socks]