Moth Heaven

Kochoran Angora and Mr. Hyde

My enthusiasm for good yarn trumps most weather, party because I love the wool, but I am also enabled by air conditioning.  I am devoted to the Kochoran; the angora has me in its paws.  I have never allowed myself to buy some before because it's usually ::gulp:: twenty dollars a skein, but a sale can wear down even the strong willed, or the moderately so, and I am able to find a minute here and there during the day to pat the bunny.

Can you feel it?  Close your eyes, touch the screen, and feel the fuzzies.

Good, eh?

Being Memorial Day, I hung out the flag. 
And I weeded.
And I marinated chicken and eggplants for the grill later.

Having performed three out of the four Memorial Day traditions ( I just couldn't face the parade, you might understand why), I was free to be kidnapped by my gardening-impaired pal Megan (who got the Dunkin' Donut mittens?  You remember Megan, don'tcha?)  to cruise the gardening centers to look for things to put in the ground to make her yard pretty, but that require absolutely no work.  We ended up with some gorgeous specimens of nepeta Six Hills Giant and salvia May Night. 

But while we were toodling around, and this is relevant to the Kochoran I promise, we parked downtown to buy some of that killer lemonade you can only get at street fairs because -- get this -- there was a street fair going on.  We found a space for the car (a miracle in its own right) and threaded through the crowd to buy the lemonade.  When we got back in the car, we drove off, and suddenly I wondered where the knitting was.

Yes, so devoted to the bunny am I that I was knitting as we hopped the garden shops.  You think it's funny, or pathetic, or cute maybe, but Megan was driving, and some of those places out here in the 'burbs take ten whole minutes to get to.  Lots of stitching time in my book.  When we went to get the lemonade, so as not to stick anyone in the crowd,  I left the knitting in the car.

With the windows down.  There were plants and books and groceries in the car too, but the knitting was missing as far as I could tell.

(I am so gratified to know that right now, you're thinking what I was thinking, because Megan didn't get it until I had to tell her myself.  This is what unites us while we live among the muggles).

I made Megan stop the car.  I moved everything in the car around, I looked under my seat, I looked under Megan's seat, we took the plants out of the way back.  We searched.

Megan wondered out loud, who would steal knitting?

I said: It's expensive yarn, and it was on an Addi Turbo.  All it takes is one knitter  to walk by with poor impulse control and woof, no more knitting. Angora, girl.  It's a powerful thing.  It's like musk in rutting season to a knitter."

"I thought that was cashmere." (she may not be a knitter herself, but Megan's been my friend for a long time.  She's picked it up through osmosis.)  I conceded that it depends entirely on the knitter.  Some fall for merino.  We all have our kinks, and clearly one among us likes to jack yarn.

And then, you may have guessed (because you are less cynical than am I), Megan unlatched the fold down seat and revealed the knitting on the floor.  It had slipped back there and been hidden from sight.  ::sigh:: Everything was okay.

As my blood pressure returned to normal ( I was mostly concerned with the two days of knitting I would have to make up, and where would I get enough yarn to finish Earnshaw? etc etc.)  Megan shook her head that I would think that the world has someone in it who would steal -- of all things! -- knitting out of a parked car.  So little faith in humanity I must have.

Yet she's never seen the scrum in front of the Socks That Rock rack during the first five minutes at Rhinebeck: how could she understand?  She hasn't pushed the refresh button six times to try and make it on to Vesper Julia's site when the yarn goes up for sale.  She's never had someone say they'd like to make off with the sweater she's wearing in a way that seems at once like a compliment and a threat.  While I love knitters, and think that knitters are almost universally lovely people, I also know that the yarn sometimes brings out the Mr. Hyde in all of us.

So I hereby apologize to all of you for thinking such things, but you know it.  You just might be tempted, if only for a second.  And I love that about you.

Of Dedication and Impulse

I finished the Wensleydale(see previous post for specs), and wound the last four ounces onto my own personal storage bobbins.  That's right, Spinners. Moth Heaven uses toilet paper rolls for storage bobbins.  They're not elegant nor technically advanced.  I wouldn't ply from them because there's no way to tension them on a lazy kate, but for letting the singles rest for a spell when the energy is slowly killed by time, they're cheap, available, and fit onto the center of my ball-winder like they were made for the purpose. Had I a skein-winder, I might alternatively wet block the singles by giving them a good soak and then hanging them slightly weighted to dry.  It would be faster, but I'm not in any particular hurry.

What, with this on the needles. I have finished the front neck shaping on the PS136 sweater, and have two rows more to knit before I face the mental hurdle of the i-cord shoulder bind-off, and then on to my very very first steek. There will be bourbon, but not until after I cut. I am intimidated, but I know you guys will support me in this.  I'm still scared, and knitting very slowly so as to not arrive there too soon.

Which is why, of course, I bought brand new yarn at the local Thursday.  I'm just temporarily filling a hole in my consumerist soul.  It could have been a gasoline chugging Turbo engine or blood diamond jewelry, so I congratulate myself on the comparative moral high ground such a shallow impulse has lead me to.  It is Japanese yarn, so I could flagellate myself with the gallons of petroleum that were spent to bring these glorious skeins to my door, especially since it is a  ::ahem:: single manufactured to look handspun.  It's even promoted in the knitting press and catalogs as actual "handspun" (who knows?), and yet I paid for something I might have made myself, especially since I have both silk and angora in the stash.  Just sitting there.  However, this colour of Kochoran (number 10: denim, lime, and sage) has haunted me, and I have always wanted to knit Earnshaw from Jane Ellison's Simply Noro book, even if it will make me look like a dumpling. But is was 30% off.  And the store is closing.  And I'm avoiding a steek.  And I wanted it.

So there.

Spinning Wheel Got to Go Round

I'm a spinner, but one could hardly tell from the blog, except for the circumstantial evidence that I am seen at "spinning" events and that I apparently own a couple of spinning wheels and am known to buy and peddle fleece.

So where's the beef, er, sheep, er I mean, dude, what are you spinning?

I borrowed what I thought would be a smidge of time from the Jensen Tina a few months ago to just throw on 12 ounces of Cloverleaf Farms Wensleydale (colour: Brown Fox).  I thought it would take me a few weeks of my erratic spinning time, but lo and be vexed, it's taken months. It's my own slovenly practice that's to blame.  I am guilty of spinning mostly in the company of other spinners, so in spite of my regular visits to the Island Pond group and the monthly meeting of the local Spinning group I run myself, nine hours a month doesn't amount to much yarn. So the Wensleydale has taken me a lot of time, even though it spins up quickly into a fingering weight single I plan to use for a Shoalwater Shawl to take advantage of the simple variegation in the yarn.

 

On the Vermont Wheel, I am making (again) a fingering weight single out of polworth from The Spinning Bunny in the colour Black Magic. It's a roving with long colour runs of fuschia, turquoise, amber, midnight, amethyst, and emerald. It's been on the wheel since October when Alpaca Kathy gave it to me.  This was the original yarn I had planned to use for a Shoalwater, but I don't think I have nearly enough of it for much more than a small scarf.  So perhaps it is destined to be a Caryl's Kerchief, complete with beads to match all the splendid jewl-tone colours.

I like using singles for lace, mostly because I am lazy (see above: minimum dedication to the spinning), but also because it's a maximum impact for minimum effort.  Okay, maybe that lands me right back at lazy.  But we all know that singles left to their own devices would bias because of their unbalanced nature as only one twist.  Spinners ply both to balance twist and get a neutral yarn, and also to hide the little flaws in the single. But both of these fibers have come through the spinning pretty consistent, and have little to hide.   And knitted lace is blocked, which eliminates the biasing singles are guilty of. In addition to all of that, Seedstitch Cheryl has several lovely lace things she knit out of singles and I wish I were more like her.  When a roving has long colour runs like the Polworth, or colours that would be muddied by the double whammy of plying and knitting, I have no prejudice against leaving them as singles. I could chain-ply the Polworth I suppose, but chain-plied laceweight just seems so ambitious, and unnecessary.

Sue me.  I'm a lazy spinner.

There and Back Again

Off the needles: February Socks from the Socks that Rock club. For the record, I am among the knitters who couldn't get the recommended reversible cables over my ugly-step-sister-sized heel, even going up several times in needle size to as large as a four, which I finally abandoned because the fabric sucked.  So I contented myself to them as plain ribbed jobbies. The medium weight makes a cushy cozy sock and I think I am in love.  Provided it washes up well, this yarn may be in contention with Mountian Colors Bearfoot for my favorite sock yarn of all.

I knit almost all of the second one on my Acela daytrip to New York with Cassie last Wednesday.  No pictures, just caffeine pit stops, Habu, School Products (currently featuring cashmere and Berta's new book, and they ship!) and this exhibit.  Hard on the heels of my charming brunch with Wanda (visiting from Denver pal Cynthia) the previous Monday ( I know, bad blogger to let such a thing go undocumented for over a week) and the weekend at Sheep and Wool, and for a minute there, I could almost believe there was nothing in my life but the wool.  Alas, when I returned home, the bathrooms still needed a cleaning and the dog threw up when I came in the door.  But I digress, as usual.

With the luxury of 8 hours of peace on the train, I acquainted myself with the charts for Anne's Morning Glory Wrap. I bought this Cormo/Mohair DK from Buckwheat Bridge Angoras at New Hampshire Sheep and Wool in a colour Juno and Cassie promise is becoming to my complextion.  I crazy-love this particular kind of green, but a stranger in a dressing room once told me it looked like death on me.  She said: "That green is a priviledge, not a right. You might want to reconsider." So I've been a little scared ever since.  But I bought it on the advice of two trusted friends.  I especially admire the little leaf pattern at the cast-on edge. Now the charts and I are pals, and the knitting is a blast. Anne is, as I've said before, a genius.

Saturday on YouTube

I have shared with the blog before that I love YouTube for one reason most of all, and that is for the five minute long video missives on the charm of steam locomotive runs, and the aquadynamics of sea mammals, and comic and clumsy pet shenanighans.  All of this is strictly for the unbroken blocks of time such things buys me from The Boy for the knitting.  And today, I taught him how to work the mouse. Extra points.

Meanwhile, I worked on the last few rows of the Socks That Rock February installment you see here.

For your amusement,  our favorite things today included:

Dragonforce (the band my 17 yeard old loves at the moment -- fasten your seatbelts)

The Umbilical Brothers (yes, we love slapstick at my house)

Hakuna Matata,backwards (he found it funny, for some reason)

Ivor the Engine  (a cartoon about a Welsh Steam Engine) and . . .

An Orca (after this video, The Boy wants one for a pet)

The Things You See

One of my favorite things about a Sheep Festival is not so much the things you buy, but the things you see, like these license plates outside the gates.

And the next generation of spinners in the Fleece to Shawl Competition.  (I think Team Boston should enter a team next year, whatd'ya guys think?)

The riot of colour in booths like this one from Snow Star Farm in Antrim, New Hampshire.

And of course the delight of watching Juno try out a charkha (at Journey Wheel)

and a wheel (Merlin Tree's Hitchhiker)

or, uh, two.  "Wait, Juno: don't you already own a Louet Victoria?"

"Yes," she said without pausing mid-treadle.  "I miss her."

Cassie spun a little herself on a Vermont Wheel as you can see.  The peer pressure is strong, since Juno and I both have ones of our own.  I have loved mine with a renewed passion ever since Pat fixed the little quirk that kept me from it for the first few months of our time together.  He was very charming about it, and now the wheel sings.

We got to pet the animals of course, like the felted dragon in the Grafton Fibers booth (don't you just love Cassie's Swallowtail shawl?)

There was also playing with yarn (so overcome with the happiness that we had to sit on the floor in the Buckwheat Bridge Angoras booth to fondle the cormo/mohair blend. 

And there was the buying of yarn too.  That's Snow Star sport weight on the table in the three colours Juno chose.  Mittens, she says, if you must ask. Certainly not socks.

Juno continues to refuse to knit socks.  She buys a lot of sock yarn for someone who doesn't knit socks, so I think she must be using it for mulch.

See You at the Fair

31st Annual New Hampshire Sheep and Wool Festival

Saturday and Sunday, May 12 &13th

Hopkington Fairgrounds, New Hampshire

(wear comfy shoes)

Syncopated Caps

For those of you thinking about knitting Kate's Syncopated Cap pattern from the new Interweave, I'm here to give you a little push.  I had such a great time knitting two of them, loved the yarn (Socks that Rock, my friend, do you need another reason?), and practically giggled over the chart.  I've never found a chart to be amusing in quite the way I did Kate's, but I found it ticklish in a way.  You'll have to try it for yourself to see what I mean.

Maybe this will explain it, the way the charted cables converge to a swirling star at the top.  Simply charming. ::sigh::

 

Sadly, it's not really my kind of hat.  I need a brim to balance the narrowness of my face and head, but I love them anyway. I was sad to see them go when I had to send them off for the magazine, but sometimes the knitted things come back.  Mostly they don't, but a girl can always hope.

Full Disclosure

I am so impressed and gratified by your candor about the Summer Tweed project.  I guess I can trust you.  I'm sorry there was ever any doubt in my mind.  I just thought that since you always have such nice and affirming things to say, that that would be your reaction to any sweater I wanted to knit. And the Mister is gratified to be so supported.  I am so going to take you more seriously from now on.  Just beware, I may not be able to make a decision without asking you first.

To demonstrate my new found trust and loyalty to you, I thought it was time I shared with the blog all the things that really are on the needles around here.  I have so many more things than just what I've told you about, so here they are:

Ground Floor: Habu jacket and weird felted bag project I'm using to experiment with the flat bed knitting machine I borrowed from Vicki a month ago. 

In the Concentric Designs Department, I have (clockwise from the top) this much of a mitered square blanket going from my flush of enthusiasm for when Kay and Ann's book came out, a felted turtle shell, turtle pending, and a four corners hat, which has evolved slightly from when it debuted on the blog two years ago.  I've lost the third yarn, which is why it's only gotten this far.

Third Floor: Socks.  Arrgyles, you've met.  The brutal truth is that even I haven't finished them.  There might be a t-shirt soon, since Michele has hot jets for one and is clever and generous enough to help me negotiate the Cafe Press set-up.  Stay tuned on that one. Meanwhile, on the right is the February sock from the Blue Moon sock of the month club, and on the left -- Trekking standard sock awaiting a twin.

Sweaters Mezzanine: too small after all Basketweave Gansey from The Green Mountain Spinnery Book, awaiting a re-knit (gulp), and some Knit One Crochet Too Paintbox in colour # 02 being meddled with, maybe made into a sweater.

Scarves and Other Moments of Weakness, Basement Level: A diagonal scarf in Rowan Big Wool, lives in the kid's bathroom for sitting by the tub knitting; a teddy bear I started for Kate's little girl that was supposed to be a baby present, but at this rate might make it to her by the time she's riding a bike; all of 6 rows of a cardigan from one of the Rowan RYC books; and some Louisa Harding yarn that lives in the car, becoming a Sally Melville scarf.

Also around here is the completed back of a black cashmere cardigan and 8 pattern repeats of a Flower Basket Shawl.  I'm a dreadful liar, to have kept all of this from you, but having owned up, I feel so much better.

Look Before You Leap, maybe

The vest picture was taken by the Mister, who didn't understand why I would want to show the world something I wasn't proud of.  No no, I said.  I must share with the blog everything, even the knit things I am unhappy about (I never told him about the knitting needle accident, so he is unaware of the depths to which I am willing to admit for the sake of the blog).  He did say that he could have told me that the vest would suck if I had showed it to him BEFORE I cast on for the thing. Put on your scarves now, knitters, here's comes a cold blast . . .

Oh riiiiillly?

(scarves off? okay then)  I doubted the purity of his intent, but I decided to run a few things by him, sweaters I dream of, designs drooled over, the never-ending queue.  He agreed to slap some post-it note in a few magazines for me, just so I could test his powers of judgement, and when he handed them back, I was happy to agree with most of his calls, with one heartbreaking (and expensive) exception.

I have recently purchased all the Summer Tweed necessary to make Sarita from Rowan 41, in the greens and browns I love so much, an I have been promising myself a cast on party for it the moment I have finished a few more WIPs. And he blew past it like a lemonade stand in February. Damn.  I asked him why and he said he thought there was too much going on in the tummy area. And that the model was standing funny, so you wonder why.  Again, tummy problems.

Is he right?  Is this a sweater that requires two pairs of Spanx?  Am I deluded? Extra points for explaining yourself.

In the meantime, while I await what will no doubt be a resounding acclaimation of support (you're good that way, but I'm not sure that I trust you either), here is something I am pleased about: my finished Swallowtail. 

The points were so worth it.