MADE: Weekender Sweater

At some point in the last year or so, I made a promise to myself that I would not buy another gray sweater or top. I am so drawn to gray clothing because it goes with everything else. I am frustrated by black, navy and brown because they don't always play together or with other colors. Gray, though: it always works. As a result, my closet and drawers are full of gray. Thus my resolution.

A loophole I opened, however, was allowing myself to make gray clothing. You can see I've already gone this route in my recent sewing. And now, with this sweater, I've done it again. I like what I like, OK?

The Weekender sweater was designed by Andrea Mowry, a name I've come across many times through Brooklyn Tweed, and whose patterns I've bookmarked on Ravely often (for example...).

#roadknitting (en route to Spokane from Boise with this sweater)

This pattern knit up quickly, and I probably could've finished this in August weeks after I started it. I took my time, though, and enjoyed the process each time I picked it back up. You knit it from the bottom up and the main body is all purl stitching, which looks casual but kind of special, especially with the vertical row of knit stitches down the front and the back. I love the boat neck style, and the ribbed detail that extends past the shoulder is fun. I also love the split hem. Plus I learned a new way to cast on.

The yarn I used  (Kenzie by Hikoo) is 50% merino with angora, nylon, alpaca and silk. You can't see it in the photo but there are tiny black speckles. It sheds a tiny bit (thanks to the angora) but it is soft and super warm for being somewhat lightweight.

And yes, it's gray, and I have worn it three times already in the first week.

Please Luna, DO NOT SNAG THIS SWEATER

Off the needles: Hermione Socks

A getaway to the west side of the state this month gave me the opportunity I needed to finally finish these socks!

I love that this (free!) pattern is easy to memorize - there's nothing complicated but it looks like more effort went into it, and it feels fancier and a bit more plush to wear. This was the same yarn I used for my Peace Project cowl - Swan's Island washable wool in a chipotle shade, which I purchased the last time I was on the west side.

I will certainly be making more Hermione socks. Especially since we stopped, finally, at Tolt in Carnation, Wash., where I picked up a beautiful sock yarn from La Bien Aimeé. I like to have a project I can be working on when I don't know what to work on next (this is the beauty of knitting socks, in case you didn't know).

Speaking of knitting and buying yarn, I've been thinking a lot on the subject of stash. My dear friend Sara sent me a book, A Stash of One's Own, a collection of essays by knitters and designers about this subject, which I've enjoyed reading each night before bed. I had never given my stash much thought before now - how I buy yarn, why I buy yarn, and how I feel about an abundance of it. Each essay considers these questions in very thoughtful ways, calling on nostalgia and comfort as much as  actual projects as reasons to accumulate. This book made me realize how many knitters buy yarn with no project in mind. This has generally not been how I operate, mostly because yarn - good yarn, at least - is expensive. I try not to buy yarn unless I know the weight and yardage needed for a specific project. There have been times while traveling internationally when I've bought yarn just because I wanted the souvenir, only to come home and stress over what I would actually make with it. Which is why I now will generally buy sock yarn in these situations because I know how much I need and it's affordable.

All this to say, I'm not really a stasher. My stash, if you can call it that, is comprised of remnants from other projects, amounts that are useless for new projects. Except for projects like Stephen West's Garter Squish blanket, which I made last year for Margot, which is designed for using up these scraps. I don't think I could ever drop $50+ on yarn with no aim for what to do with it.  If I make a sweater, I find exactly the yarn I want, buy it and start knitting before I lose steam. I take comfort in this because it means I'm probably not a hoarder, and I'm definitely frugal. But after reading about people who walk into yarn stores, fall in love with colors and textures and buy a bundle of skeins just to have them; the people who have cupboards and rooms filled with yarn; the people who set up events where they just give their yarn away... I've been enjoying imagining what that might feel like. But then I'm happy to return to my reality where yarn is strewn about my craft room, but it's all connected to a current project.

Next up in my knitting queue: this slouchy sweater, The Weekender. Hopefully ready to wear by this fall.

And of course, more socks.

And also, Christmas stockings.

Made in May

I've been working on my wardrobe, but there's not much to show for it. But I reached the finish line on my May Cardigan, before June 1 as hoped!

Below shows the moment when I realized how this cardigan actually comes together, because until this point none of it made sense to me. Maybe you can see why I was confused. There's nothing left to knit when you get to this point. It's all a matter of stitching seams together. 

I love the finished product, even though it's still not technically finished until I finish the sleeves with a short ribbed edge. We all should have more short-sleeve cardigans in our lives. It feels a little like a shawl, which prompted Joel to suggest I call it a "shardigan," to which I suggested a "carl."

In other news, have I mentioned my Year of Martha on here? It was a half-joking (as I try to perfect my Martha Stewart impression)-but-actually-serious goal I made in December to try to make all sorts of different things this year.  My white wreath was part of this campaign - it was an actual Martha Stewart craft, which was when I realized how crappy her craft instructions are. I still want to make a sugar scrub and do a small embroidery project. I put a modest Pinterest board together here. I'm pleased that I've made two of the sewing projects, which shows just how drawn my attention has been to sewing.  And I just received the Hearthwarming Stocking kit from Knitpicks I pinned on there, and for once I'm really planning ahead with knitting...for Christmas!

Real-life craft room: various states of sewing, knitting, decorating

It's also worth noting that I made a skirt last weekend that I just didn't end up liking and will therefore donate. I think the fabric I chose was mostly to blame - a cheap couple yards of linen blend from Joann. It had a funny drape that made my waist look especially disproportionate to my lower half. But the actual sewing of it was successful, and I felt good about the process. I only spent a day on it, so it wasn't a huge waste of time. 

Finally, this weekend I'll be on the East Coast and hope to finish the pair of Hermione Everyday Socks I've been working on since around January, in transit. Can I do it?

On the needles: February and March

I can't tell you how happy I am that we have crossed the springtime threshold, and that we eat dinner in daylight again. As I'm sure it is for many, this is the time when my thoughts generally turn to the outdoors, to cleaning up the yard, bike rides, and using the grill. It's difficult to find time to devote to knitting, but I feel a certain tenderness right now toward this standby hobby. I have been feeling almost bemused by my drive to start and actually finish projects, and then go out in public wearing them. Perhaps it helps that I'm mixing in some sewing projects that have a much shorter timeline to completion to then return to something slow and methodical.

Anyhoo, here's what's been going on:

May Cardi by Bristol Ivy. This is a laceweight cardigan that will probably take me 483 hours to complete. No, really - I timed how long it takes to knit a row (I'm down to 11 minutes from 15). I can knit about 2.5 rows during a half-hour television program if I don't get distracted. Or 8 rows over the course of Mark Knopfler's latest album.

The pattern, though, is lovely and completely worth it (probably - I never really know until the moment I try it on for the first time). I wanted a short-sleeve cardigan I could wear over sleeveless tops (like the Willow tanks I've been making) in summer. I'm using Quince & Co.'s Piper yarn, a mohair and merino laceweight blend in "Austin" - a sort of rusty shade - that will be luxurious to wear. My goal is to finish it by June. But after sitting in a chair for an hour, knitting just 6 rows, it's hard to see progress. I trust it's somehow gaining length.

Hermione's Everyday Socks. I swore I would give myself a good long break before knitting another pair, but I had so much leftover yarn from my Peace Project cowl, and I was waiting for the yarn to arrive for my May Cardi, and of course I have to do something when I'm watching TV or sitting in airports for hours. But rather than use my straight-forward, boring sock pattern, at least I opted for something with texture. Just adding a purl stitch to the 4-stitch repeat creates such an unusual design and looks more complicated than it is. I can't wait to put these on.

The inner life of a knitter

When I look back on my years of knitting, I am struck by how much this hobby has been about connection. When I began 13 years ago, after several failed attempts to teach myself, I joined a knitting group at work where my coworkers coached me through my first projects. There's still a group of us that meets occasionally and I always get a hit of inspiration when we gather.

Knitting has also been a common denominator with loved ones who are way more advanced than I, or who ask me to teach them. It's also created an instant sense of kinship with new acquaintances who share the hobby. (I know this is not unique to knitting.)

It has given me reasons seek out new places in our travels as I meet the yarn shop owners from Amsterdam to Whidbey Island to Buenos Aires.  

It connects me with strangers who are knitting the same project I am via sites like Ravelry, through knit-along projects that we all sign on to try at the same time.

Which brings me to this most recent project, which highlighted that community, yes, but also the inner life of the knitter.

Because as much as knitting has forged connections, it has also forced me to notice my inner dialogue. I have done my best here to be honest about how crafting does not come easily to me - but if I'm patient and persistent, I insist, I have the ability to produce something I can wear, give, or otherwise display. But it often comes after a lot of negative self-talk. I call myself a dummy or just plain clumsy. I curse my fingers for not being nimble. I tell myself I'm really not that creative - I just follow patterns. And I often follow them badly.

And yet, through some miracle of crafter's optimism or just my own stubbornness, I keep at it. I conveniently forget the by-product of stress and self-doubt when trying new patterns and techniques, believing this will be the time I prove I really know what I'm doing.

In December, I signed on to participate in a knit-along called Project Peace with one of my knitting buddies at work. Part of the experience, the reason for the "Peace" title, was to incorporate a meditative practice with the knitting for 21 days, leading up to the winter solstice. It's a lovely idea because the repetition of knitting really does lend itself to meditation and mindfulness. You connect with yourself, while hundreds of others around the world do the same.

The lovely idea collided with reality when I cast on 300+ stitches and didn't allow myself enough yarn to finish the cast-on. It took me about 10 minutes to realize this. I ripped it out, and eyeballed an extra bit of yarn, and added a stitch counter to the mix to help me keep track of the count. And then - I didn't eyeball enough yarn, again. I groaned in agony. One more time, I thought. And then as I started to knit the first row, I dropped a stitch into oblivion. Stupid clumsy fingers, lousy stinkin' so-called knitter. I wasn't sure whether to scream or to cry. By this point, we'd watched two Modern Family episodes and I had nothing to show for all that work (and I wasn't even paying attention to the show). I rewound the yarn and put it away for the night. Joel sarcastically said he was glad I had such a relaxing hobby. "Peace" was definitely not what I felt.

The next morning I had a quiet moment to try again and forget about the night before. I counted each stitch. I started on my first row. Then the second. Time flew and it was time for me to catch the bus.

And so the knitting continued. I learned the pattern by heart. I found I could chat and multitask a little bit, but I really looked forward to the silent times. I took it on the road, on the plane, I sat in silence working and paying attention to the stitches. I thought about the geese pattern (i.e., the triangles), thought about winter, but I tried not to think of much else but counting and repeating. I felt my mind quiet. I was truly enjoying myself. Worries and negativity crept in, and I tried to use those moments to pause and review my work and refocus on where I was at that point in the pattern. Knit, knit, purl, purl, purl, knit, knit. I felt the textures the different stitches created and marveled at how soft yet defined it was.

At last, I finished it. I blocked it. I love it. I had Joel do a fashion photo shoot of me with it.

It wasn't until I started writing about it that I realized this whole process has been about focusing on patterns. The knitting pattern, for one. But also the patterns I create in my head. They can be meditative, and they can be destructive. By changing my thought patterns with this project, I could refocus on the act of knitting as something to enjoy and even marvel at, rather than another opportunity to screw something up. This latest project and focus didn't cure me of all my negative self-talk, but I'm working on it. Wearing this cowl, I feel connected to all the others who worked through this pattern, who are working toward peace in their own lives and on a larger scale. It's a reminder of how freeing it is to focus on nothing but what you are doing this very moment. It is, I cheekily conclude, a pattern worth repeating.

Let's talk about crafts again

Usually when I decide to knit a sweater, it's the beginning of fall, and by the time I actually get around to finishing it, it's spring, and sweater season is pretty much over. This time I've somehow managed to start a sweater before summer hits. I hope I can count on it being ready by the fall, though right now I'm really motivated to get it done sooner. I'm excited about it. Perhaps it's the yarn, or my new knitting corner, or the need to keep my hands busy when they're otherwise tempted to pour a glass of wine, but let's run with it. Here are the elements.

The yarn: I must start with the yarn because I picked up something really special in Amsterdam, and it was what led me to find a pattern that would really highlight it well. The shop from whence it came was called Stephen and Penelope, named partly after Stephen West of westknits. [For those of you who don't read knitting blogs or listen to knitting podcasts or follow knitters on social media the way obsessive hobbyists like me do, Stephen West has been making waves for a few years now. He uses wild colors and bold geometric designs, sets up elaborate, makeup-heavy photo shoots to show off his patterns, and he makes knitting more weird and fun than it ever has been before, in my opinion. (Check out his blog.) Turns out he now lives in Amsterdam though he was born in Oklahoma.]

I bought a skein of this Hedgehog Fibers Skinny Singles in a colorway called Potluck 2. It's a variegated yarn, meaning that features multiple colors in one skein, and as I've seen in many of West's patterns, also features a really fun confetti speckle throughout.

The second color is MadelineTosh's Faded Parka, which I purchased after I got home having landed on a pattern. When I purchased the MadelineTosh yarn at Paradise Fibers, I had brought the Hedgehog yarn with me for color comparison, all the store clerks crowded around me when word got out that I had a skein in my possession so they could see it for themselves. I felt like they just found out I was related to a celebrity or something. #nerdville

The pattern: Breathing Space. This is an asymmetrical sweater which I'm nervous but excited to try. It involves alternating stripes of a solid color with the variegated colors, which is a great way to showcase all the different colors of my Hedgehog skein without overwhelming the eye.

Over the winter we worked and worked on my Kraft Zimmer re-do (or craft room, for those of you who don't come up with clever names for everyday rooms). I've since started decorating it just the way I like, and piece by piece, it's slowly coming together. I have my piano, my sewing desk, and a new chair with pouf ottoman. There are azaleas out one window (and the neighbor's trash), and a nice view of our front walkway and porch out the other window. It's a perfect space and I'm having fun with it.

(Flowers were not actually in the Kraft Zimmer, but they're going with the color theme)

So now that we've talked about crafts again, it's time to talk about cats again. Specifically, this one.

Oof

Upon the purchase of our house, my eldest brother told us - in a congratulatory way, I'm sure - that we would never have a free weekend again. Ha, ha. I went away for a few days earlier this month for a conference, and when I returned, Joel had done all these little projects that brought me much joy - everything from hanging up a coat rack to touching up paint inside and out. A new doorknob for the bathroom, too. He repainted the front steps this past week. And me? I'm doing the one thing I know how to do right now: weeding. And looking up how to right all the wrongs of sprinklers, landscape lighting and deck railing...and the number of my nearest handyman. But let's not bore you, eh?

Joel aglow from the reflection of primer.

In the midst of all this, I have been very careful to not let my life get too consumed with my new to-do list. Here are some non-house things I can share that might have some morsel of intrigue for you. Maybe not.

Knitting this Strathcona scarf, in turquoise. This will be my summer scarf.

No more stovetop kettle for me!

Making hot water for coffee and tea with my Bonavita electric kettle, which I bought with birthday money - one of those where you can set the temperature - with a gooseneck spout for dainty pouring. Joel says I'm becoming a temperature snob (and he's right), but truly, I love drinking green tea now because of it.

Reading All the Light We Cannot See.

Making desserts from this gem of a cookbook called Flourless (so far almond-butter chocolate chip cookies and strawberry rhubarb maple cake, which we consumed so fast that I didn't think to take pictures) - thanks, Mom!

Poppy surprise!

Between Two Lilacs

Mourning William Zinsser. Since first reading his On Writing Well in high school, the mere mention of his name reminds me to cut the clutter from my writing. He is also the primary reason it takes me as long as it does to compose an email. Or anything, really. This tribute is touching.

Working out at the bar, which is a really fun thing to tell people. But seriously, it's a workout.

Watering my plants, and recycling my wine bottles, with Plant Nannies. 

Lamplight

Mantle lights

Tiny tree lights

Give this cat an ironing board and a wet garment of clothing and she's set for days

Host/hostess gift

She guards the bathroom door

Stone Fence

Waiting for food to hit ground

I get up in the dark, I come home in the dark. I don't know what this house looks like in daylight except for on the weekends. I am grateful for the winter solstice because I know the days grow longer after its passing.

A few years ago, I read a book called The Geography of Bliss, about which countries' "happiness quotient" are highest. I will forever remember its depiction of Iceland, one of the happiest places, though during the winter, it gets about 4 hours of daylight. The author described a place in which community was formed through a sort of shared survival mentality. They gathered together, they drank, they got through it. And their lives seemed to be better for it. I think about that a lot.

This is the time of year for game nights and drinking, in other words. Which is what we are doing. And it's the time for brandy. Calvados, in this case. It's warm and apple-y. That Stone Fence pictured above is a drink I highly recommend. It's a shot or so of Calvados, topped with hard cider and some ice.

If you find yourself feeling down in the dumps in the darkness, find either a St. Bernard with a cask of brandy, or a good friend with a bottle in one hand and a deck of cards in the other, and cozy up and settle in. We can do this. A few more days and we're on the better side of winter.

Hatty

I don't know what got into me, but I'm on a roll. I knit two hats in one month. One as a gift, another for me (the yellow one, so people can see me when I'm out with the dog on dark mornings). Now that I've remembered how quick and satisfying they are to make, even when the pattern is moderately complicated, I am kind of thinking it's all I want to knit anymore. Who wants one? (Just kidding. Christmas is coming and I'm all queued up.)

"Hammer Time" slouch hat

Lotus hat

I've been getting over my first cold of the year and am trying to settle back into my regular routines. But we just enjoyed a quick weekend of sports in Seattle (my first time at Safeco and CenturyLink!), and now that we're back home I'd love to hole up for a spell with a hot beverage and basket of yarn and fancy magazines. Lazy, lazy. But productive! These are the times to pull out that old Maurice Chevalier record and let him sing to you in his jolly way, "Enjoy it!" 

Baby Sophisticate

Ah, knitting. Pretty much the best thing ever. I wish more of my in-town friends were knitters; I've been jealous of a friend who has a group in Portland that meets someplace each month where they can knit AND eat pie. I like the idea in theory, but knowing me I'd get lemon meringue on my projects. Either way, if you live in Spokane and want to knit with me and eat pie (or donuts or bloody marys) I would so love to get a group together. I promise I won't turn it into a book club, which seems to be what happens when you get people together over hobbies.

This is my most recent project. It's a baby sweater you can knit over a weekend. You might recall my post (here) where I was blocking this. Well, I finally got it all finished (a couple weeks ago, actually) and sent it off in the mail to one of the cutest baby boys I've met in awhile.

You can get the pattern, Baby Sophisticate, for free on Ravelry. 

Crafty birthday week

The past week has been a chilly mix of rain and sun, so most of it has been spent in this room, or outside with the dog.

 Yes, a dog! She came with the name of Luna, which we thought we would change, but now we've called her "Luna" all week and I'm not sure if a new name is meant to be. We have a full slate of options, though. My favorite so far is "Vesper." Name aside, she's been very easy and sweet and fun. Margot has taken to her, too.

 I'm always adjusting these candles, but it's a losing battle to keep them straight.

This is what happens when you take your birthday off, and it's cold and rainy and you're not quite sure what to do with yourself. The past couple years have spoiled me with warm weather, so this year really threw me off. It ended up being a nice day despite the weather, with friends in the living room and a fire in the fireplace.

 Soft-boiled egg making.

 Birthday flowers.

 My ultimate comfort meal. Plain toast and a soft-boiled egg. Plus a latte.

 I wasn't the only one celebrating a birthday this week.

 The birthday flowers, nearly spent.

 Mom and Dad sent me some old treasures. My mom thinks these were given as a gift to my Oma by one of her customers at the National Tea. The white and aqua color scheme has been appearing a lot in my life lately. I love it.

This hobnail budvase was the first thing my mom remembers buying with her own money - at age 10, for her mom's birthday, for 10 cents. I've always loved it.

 Yawn.

 I feel like this, too. We're ready for some sun and warm days.

 Meanwhile, outside...

 Joel's used the spurts of dry weather to complete this awesome Cornhole set, which he and his dad built a couple weekends ago. He spent all weekend painting and finishing it.

 Margot kept an eye on him.

 And I finished a baby sweater. This was the blocking process.

Now that the Cornhole set is finished, I am making the cornbags.

The forecast is showing some sun and 70 degrees. We're ready!