Want to see something pretty?

Good news for you Cecily fans out there: The jacket has landed. Cecily is now officially a twinset! Check this beauty out...

Photo (c) 2011 by the lovely and talented Meg Rice.
Click on the image for super-duper detail...or here for more modeled shots.

The long-delayed and hotly-anticipated (by me, at least) Cecily jacket was definitely worth the wait. It's an awfully sweet knit, if I do say so myself. It's got a sort of kimono vibe going on, which I'm into these days. The motif is called Lotus Lace (thanks yet again, Barbara Walker Treasury!) and the inset of it at the high waist has an obi-like effect that's awfully flattering on any figure, not to mention really comfy to wear. Fans of Amy Herzog's Fit to Flatter series--and I know you're out there, because I just learned how to read my blog stats, and a LOT of you are coming here from her site, so thanks, Amy!--will know that this design will work especially well with top-heavy proportions. It's got a long vertical line from neck to waist, simple shoulders, and a draped lower half that balances wide shoulders with lace edging. Sleeve length is, of course, adjustable to your preference: Work the lace trim just an inch or so after picking up the sleeve stitches for a cap sleeve that broadens the shoulders visually, or work them down to bracelet length if you want more coverage for cool autumn evenings.

Sadly, I've just found out that the sample colorway, Pearlescent, is back-ordered until the end of the year, but don't let that discourage you. There's a kit-builder feature on the Knit Picks site you can use to select similar colorways from their other sock yarns--just drag and drop!--or a different colorway of the Stroll Tonal yarn I used. Cecily will also work beautifully in whatever solid or semi-solid sock yarn you've been stashing away in sweater quantities. (Don't lie, I know you do this. Oh, no, wait, that's ME...) Make yourself something pretty, already!

Things I Learned at VKL: Part 1

So, I said in an earlier post that Vogue Knitting Live was well worth the time and money for me; I also said that the staggering amount of stuff I learned there would be continuing to soak in for several weeks. As always (just ask my husband, ha ha) I was correct about this! I'm a huge believer in the idea that the more you give the world, the more you get back, so I'm going to share the wealth over the next few posts. No trade secrets, mind you--that wouldn't be fair--and some of it I couldn't tell you, you'd have to experience it for yourself. Just ask Nicky Epstein, the next time you see her, what they do for fun in the little desert town where she grew up...she is a 24-karat laugh riot, that one. Trust me, though, when I say that ANY of these instructors are well worth taking a workshop with. Whatever I say here is seriously just the tip of the iceberg!

My first class was "Creating Your Own Stitch Patterns" with the gentle and lovely Janel Laidman. Maybe it's because she's a font of quiet inspiration and understated genius, or maybe because all of us showed up at 8:00 am on Friday totally pumped for VKL, but you could really hear the gears turning as we all started paging through her stacks of stitch dictionaries and scribbling on our graph paper. I had signed up based on the class description, not even realizing that Laidman was the designer of the Rivendell sock, a pattern that I already had in my Ravelry library--a lot of her work has that graceful Art Nouveau sensibility that I really like. Rivendell was one of those patterns I bought more to learn from than actually knit; it's that pretty.

This class was really a subtle one. I wish I could describe it effectively, but it's hard to convey what we covered and how it helped. The general effect, for me, was like when someone comes into a room where you've been reading and turns on the light, or changes some little setting on your monitor so the text is suddenly bigger and clearer. Just a steady accumulation of little "aha!" revelations, plus some friendly encouragement, and some time spent focusing on how stitch patterns are constructed, and a bunch of really instructive swatches. Doesn't sound like much, I know, but the cumulative effect was quite something. I left the room determined to buy a copy of the Japanese stitch dictionary I was working from, as well as some highlighter tape. The highlighter tape alone has been a revelation, in fact--I'm working a stranded-colorwork pillow cover from a big ol' chart right now, and the little "taste" of tape that Janel handed out to everyone in class went right onto that. Now I can't believe I ever thought of attempting to work from a chart of any size without this stuff. It's amazing! So simple, so straightforward, and so helpful.

I brought some inspirational materials with me to the class--just a couple of scraps of things I've been holding onto, thinking they'd be nice to translate into knitting--and I expect I'll be continuing to play with those until I figure out what they want to be. The best part of the class, I think, was just hearing from someone who does this all the time the steps she follows when she's working up something new, and seeing how well they work. Thanks, Janel, for an inspiring and useful VKL session!

So...how was your weekend?

On Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights, here's what I did: I staggered into my house, dumped all the stuff I was carrying on the floor, pulled off my shoes, and collapsed. First on the couch, then into a hot bath (which got stone-cold by the time I mustered the energy to climb out of it), then into bed. I never, ever sleep on my stomach, but still found myself lying with my face plunged between the pillow piles on Saturday night, thinking "Oh, this feels unusually niiiiiizzzzzzzzzzzzz...."

What wrecked me? Vogue Knitting Live. Between the pre-party at Unwind, which I attended with a new-knitter friend who then came over for (YUM!) chicken and dumplings, and the three looooonnng days of lectures, demos, classes, steel-willed resistance of the opportunity to purchase even yet still more yarn (I limited myself to some decadent silk ribbons and a handbag), and inter-knitter mingling that followed at VKL, I'm absolutely bushed. I also think I'll be digesting all the lessons, discoveries, and facts from this for several weeks to come. Here are some of my initial thoughts on the event, though:

1) I should not have to work this hard to sign up for something I'm paying this much to attend. The worst, and yet most fixable, problem was the online interface for class selection and signup--Vogue Knitting, I love you, I really do, but speaking as an information scientist, your usability could use some serious evaluation. No calendar view for classes and workshops, so you could actually SEE what's happening in which time slot and avoid conflicts when selecting things? The "schedule" printed on the back of my conference badge doesn't list events in day/time order? The conference-at-a-glance listing in the program booklet is organized by instructor...and they're alphabetical by first name, even though the badge "schedule" lists them as first initial, last name?? Whoever is doing this stuff for you is really bad at it, and it's probably costing you a lot of money in the form of failed registrations from frustrated, not-so-Web-savvy knitters. Please, please address these issues! We will all be grateful.

2) One jerk per thousand knitters...that's not half bad. Lots of folks were, shall we say, taken aback by the discovery that the parking garage at the Century Plaza Hyatt was unable to process credit card payments for most of the weekend. Yes, that was a bummer--but really, nothing to pitch a fit over. The fact that I only saw one person the whole time being kind of nasty about any of the difficulties we all coped with (never-ending lines at Starbucks, not enough staff in the bar and restaurant to manage the lunch rush, especially on the weekend, confusing signage and late-arriving speakers and really mediocre banquet food at the Gala Dinner) just goes to show you how great knitters in general are. I'm proud to be one of ya. Not only that, but the big stars of the knitting world that I met there (Nicky Epstein, Cookie A, Cirilia Rose, Amy Singer, Kristy Porter, and many more) were even nicer than the average knitter...not to mention funny, whip-smart, and generous with their time and considerable knowledge.

3) Thinking about knitting, talking about knitting, and actually knitting all day is frickin' intense. We all say we'd love to spend all of our days knitting, but now I'm not so sure. This program was eye-opening in so many ways, especially for me as a fledgling designer--I have a much better sense now of what this would be like as a full-time job, for one thing. As I was heading home after my last workshop (a really fun session on menswear design with Josh Bennett, aka boymeetspurl, who is a terrific teacher and made  us all feel like we were design geniuses), I realized why my chaotic state of mind felt so familiar. It was just like when I first went back to grad school for my PhD: I went in thinking I was really something special, with my awesome test scores and my generous fellowship funding, but then I got hit with this tidal wave of expert knowledge and high expectations and I just did NOT feel READY for it. It was really destabilizing for a few months there...but then the next time I gave a preservation workshop, I realized that what I'd learned in those few months had been a huge advance, and that I really did know my stuff even before that. The next time I teach a class or do a knitting demo myself, I bet I'll have that same feeling again, too...

VKL was absolutely worth the time and money and mind-bending effort for me, in short. I'm tired but happy. Pictures of all my fun acquisitions from the event to follow!

My startitis is flaring up.

The seasons must be changing--I can barely sit still, and I've got hourly urges to start on something entirely NEW and FUN and QUICK TO KNIT (and for that last one, read "Ha! Fat chance!"). I don't have startitis on a regular basis, but when it does hit, it wallops. There'll be a work in progress on every horizontal surface in the house, and our dinner will be served later and later every night, because I'm too busy casting on or ripping back to put the potatoes in the oven.

In one way, having multiple projects in the works is a good thing. I have loads of yarn in my stash. The only way I'm going to get through this stuff is if I actually make a thousand different things with it. I'm also fairly organized about the business; for instance, I keep decent notes about needle size and gauge and where a given project is generally headed, so if I put something down I have a way of re-orienting when I pick it back up.

There are only so many needles in my collection, though, and right now my circulars case looks like the Popular Fiction New Hardcovers shelf at the public library on Memorial Day weekend. All the good stuff is checked out, man! I swear by interchangeable tips (with all the lace and cable knitting I do, I LOVE my pointy pointy Knit Picks Harmony Wood Options*) but don't want to get in the habit of having piles of projects with capped cables lying around, so I only have two pairs each of my favorite sizes of needle tips. (OK, I might have three pairs of US #4s. And I'm not counting the fixed circulars. Also, all my spare cables and caps may possibly be attached to WIPs. But whatever.)

Last night I had another frenzy of sketching and scribbling before I went to bed, in the little "Daydreams and Nightmares" notebook my friend Katie gave me for Xmas last year. (Thanks, Katie!) I don't think you can get the notebooks anymore, but check out the hot Weimar-era fashions these ladies on the cover of the exhibition catalog are wearing...there's yet another potential new project in there somewhere, don't you think?

I daydream about these Weimar-era outfits, I tell you what!

This really can't go on, though. Vogue Knitting Live is coming up at the end of the week, and I'm counting on being able to work on a few things while I listen to brilliant folks like Nicky Epstein and Cirilia Rose drop science on needlework (Cirilia made a really nice comment on a project of mine on Ravelry loooooong ago, and I have had a pathetically intense knitter-girl-crush on her ever since, which I hope I will not get tipsy enough to confess to her during the gala dinner. Because I requested to sit at her table for the gala dinner. Is that stalkerish? It seems a little stalkerish of me. Geez, I hope she's not reading this...). At some point the startitis has GOT to turn into a fever of finishing, because my holiday knitting should probably get underway, um, well, last week...?





*Full disclosure: I'm not endorsing a product I got for free--these needles are my personal favorites. Although I do sell patterns through Knit Picks, and sometimes receive yarn support from them for new designs, I want to be clear that I buy ALL my own needles and knitting tools. Especially when there's a sale on.

Bearing with the Dog Days

The Book of Common Prayer puts the end of the Dog Days of summer anywhere from August 17 to September 5, and most other calendrical references have them running from sometime in early-to-mid July to August-ish, so strictly speaking, the Dog Days are already behind us. But if you're using the phrase loosely, to mean "it's extra-hot out and I don't seem able to make myself finish anything I start," well, we're still in the thick of THOSE. I'm grateful to be avoiding the Texas heat, to be sure, but the San Fernando Valley heat is giving it a run for its money this year. We've been having triple-digit temperatures, under clear blue skies with those huge cottony towers of cloud that never settle down where we are here between the mountain ridges. Summer's making its last gasp now, and the silvery light of LA is wearing down to brass a little bit more each day. There's not lots to report on the new-projects-and-patterns front, I'm afraid; my nose is to the grindstone, but you won't be seeing the results of all that work for a while yet. Think of me as still being on summer vacation for now, if you will.

The Peabey the Polar Bear pattern, however, is up and ready for download in my Ravelry Shop or on Knit Picks (where you can order the yarn at the same time--one skein of their sport-weight organic cotton is enough to make two cute little bears!), if you want to get started on your holiday knitting. Who isn't dreaming about white Xmases at a time like this? And who wouldn't want a fuzzy wee polar bear peeping out of their stocking, or prowling around the menorah? Peabey's also a great baby gift for any new Virgos you may know--it's soft and doesn't have any small parts to choke on. Yay for no choking hazards!

Just FYI, 50% of the proceeds from individual Peabey pattern sales will be donated to Polar Bears International and the International Association for Bear Research...so if you really hate polar bears, and supporting bear research and conservation, I guess you shouldn't buy a copy. Maybe you're more of a dog person?


 P.S. Check out the poll I just added at the top of the page...let me know what you'd like to see from me next!

Going with the flow

Living in a new neighborhood--and having only one car--means finding new pretty-much-everything. A lot of our favorite shops and service providers from before our Texas detour are still in business (like our beloved dentist and our butcher and the Russian tailor who altered a vintage tuxedo so perfectly it looks like it was custom-made for my husband, not some Norwegian guy in Seattle in 1959), but the day-to-day stuff? We need to find new places to get all that.  New grocery store, new dry cleaner, new bike repair shop, new vet where we can get flea medicine and our strangely-hard-to-procure cat food* and for me, a new yoga studio and LYS.

Having found those last two already, I've discerned a distinct uptick in my productivity.



I got my office mostly set up, at last, and can now sit and knit and work on the computer in there--you know, have an actual WORK day when I'm at home. And out of nowhere (or "now here," perhaps? That feeling of finally being settled?), I had the wherewithal to churn out a new project that I've been kicking around in my head for ages. Freed by daily yoga classes, and fueled with that messload of found angora from down the street, a little stuffed polar bear materialized over the course of a single morning. I sketched out the basic concept many months ago, but thought it was going to stay on the back burner for a lot longer than this! I do, after all, have a ton of work I'm supposed to be doing. Finalizing several other knitting projects I embarked on earlier this year are actually not even the first on that list. So why start a new one?

Well, the new yoga studio plays a part in that, too, I think. In trying to get the most out of the summer unlimited plan I signed up for (kind of forgetting that I would be out of town for over half of July, with two conferences and my grandparents' 75th wedding anniversary to attend), and trying out all the teachers to find my new favorite one, I've been practicing nearly every day. And gee, wow, surprise surprise: I actually FEEL better physically, find it easier to focus, and tackle projects big and small with much greater ease when I'm doing that. I'm also much more receptive to the idea that some days you can do a thing--stand on one foot with your arms in the air, do a backbend without clonking yourself on the head--and some days you can't, and you just do what you can on any given day.

It's a lesson I keep on learning and re-learning in yoga, as well as in my research and writing and knitting: Go with the flow. Hit a wall? Go around it. If there's a finish line way ahead of you, chances are you can run downhill to it tomorrow, instead of struggling uphill today. (And if you must struggle uphill, better to do it in short bursts than Sisyphian marathons, where you end up with the perception that all attempts at the thing are doomed to be unproductive.) Sometimes you just need to do what's coming EASILY. Look how cute it can be when you do!




And what could be a better reminder to go with the floe (tee-hee) than a polar bear? Pattern coming soon; check here or on my Ravelry page for updates on that...



*I do not know why it has to take three phone calls, a faxed authorization from our former vet, and a 15-minute drive to buy a bag of melonfarming kibble, but it does. There must be something really good in this cat food. Maybe I should try smoking it. We live in California, I bet smoking cat food is legal here...

Three bags full

The "got done" list has had some pretty major things on it this month. Foremost among them: "Moved from Texas back to southern California." For the most part, that's a hallelujah-level accomplishment, but I do miss my Austin knitters terribly. Every day, in fact. Even more than my colleagues at school, and  collectively and in their way, at least as much as my husband, my knitters have been my steady source of moral support and entertainment and friendship and inspiration for the last five years. I'm rather lost without them right now...I know that'll get better with time as I establish some new routines and networks here, but in the meantime Saturday mornings will find me feeling wistful and bereft.

Despite that, I know I'm in the right place, because I received an unmistakeable sign shortly after we arrived at our new home. I essayed a casual stroll to the end of the street one late afternoon with an eye to cadging some of the bountiful crop of apricots on a neighbor's tree, which didn't pan out, sadly; I'll have to steal my fruit from someone else if I'm going to learn to make jam this summer. Three doors down from us, though, I found some curbside treasure. Three big green tin buckets overflowing with plastic bags of vintage angora and camel-blend yarn--can you believe it? There was a For Sale sign out front, and a pile of other tempting things like tacky old paintings in cheap frames, so I strongly suspect this was someone's attic stash, untouched for decades. It's all DK weight and in immaculate condition--the bags are rather dusty but the yarn inside is perfect and it's evident this wasn't a smoking household. I dashed home for some grocery bags and nabbed the lot.

The labels are intriguing, too--does anyone out there know anything about a Brix-Schulenberg yarn mill in North Hollywood, circa sometime long ago? Google's been no help, and LA phone and business directories from the late 1930s don't have any businesses by that name. I may go downtown and check the microfiched directories from later decades at the LAPL when I have a free afternoon. This yarn seems like it must have a backstory, doesn't it? It certainly has a cute angora bunny on the label, and it's just as soft as can be...and I have maybe three sweaters' worth of the stuff now. So much for my pre-move de-stashing efforts!