Hand Stitching

I love knitting and feel confident doing it, but I've long been interested in embroidery too... it can be so beautiful, don't you think? And what a wonderful way to message future generations.

 

Years ago I'd go a little wild in Melissa Wastney's Tiny Happy shop, buying up whatever little bags she had sewn from scraps of hand-embroidered textiles to keep or give away as special presents. They still give me enormous pleasure in my knitting. I don't always match the stitching to the knitting inside, but sometimes it works out that way, as above.

Even though I'm fascinated by needlework, I'm not good at all of it. I can't effortlessly embroider flowers or even laboriously so (same problem I have with watercolour!) Recently I was visiting French General's site and saw an upcoming, online workshop with textile artist Mandy Pattullo. Alas, it was already sold out... but Mandy's got a book out! I decided to buy it, and also a second one about women's pockets.

When I unpacked these two treasures I noticed right away an unusual feature of Textiles Transformed: the cover, front and back, is almost flocked with a textile finish. Pure luxury. 

 

Inside, the pages are full of gorgeous, colourful images alongside advice and instruction on how to work with textile fragments and combine them into new, quilt-effect pieces. 

I think stitching away at such tiny, complex, fascinating pieces would be a wonderful way to pass an evening or an afternoon with friends.

The Pocket, by Barbara Burman and Ariane Fennetaux, is an entirely different proposition - much more focused on social history and women's history in particular, which makes it a hugely fascinating read for me. I highly recommend the 3-minute video I linked there. There are wonderful photographs inside this book, too. I particularly loved the one on the right on this page, showing the access point curved to hug the wearer's hand as she reached inside. Such a human touch!

This photograph shows how a pocket was worn under a skirt and accessed through a slit in it. And also, how realistically dolls might be dressed. Girls learned early the value and privacy of a pocket.

I wonder what it says about our modern culture that women no longer require such large pockets worn daily - or from another perspective, no longer have the ability to wear them, amid streamlined and fitted styles. Statement bags, so easily stolen, seem like a poor substitute once you've seen how this older system worked.

For now, I'm going to carry on with my sock project... it's been very busy around here the last few months and that's the most I can take on. But I'm finding it's lovely to curl up with these new books for as long as it takes to drink a cup of tea, and escape into the past and the possible.

Hope you're having a lovely weekend - see you here next Saturday!

My laptop died but books are forever

Hello again and I so hope your computer didn't curl up and die this week, like mine did. Let's look at something pretty before we dig in to that awful story, shall we? 

Is it just me or does this remind you of a houseful of pets watching the day unfold?

 

I found this picture on an old blog post about matching up yarns to make quite a lot of sock kits, which reminds me that I still have a few of these left to work on. If anything else bad happens, I may race to the storage cupboard and get a pair onto needles. This mohair/wool blend has always been the best for calm blue ocean knitting.

So, my laptop. It was a slow-moving disaster, and one I certainly should have addressed before the crisis. It's not like I hadn't noticed the battery wasn't charging, or that the processor was moving like a geriatric turtle. But you know, if leaning a book onto the power cord is enough to improve the contact points inside the machine enough that they touch the points on the cable, why fuss?

Because someday the points will fail altogether, is why fuss. And maybe even when you've been working off the battery for a while, such that there's only an hour of life left in it.

You can imagine how I panicked as I saw what was happening and the implications set in. And no, I hadn't been on top of doing backups either. I did have an external drive, at least. Somebody else needed one and when I was picking it up for them, I spotted another in a pretty blue I thought would look nice on my desk when I was using it. I swear I am more computer savvy than this normally, but this is apparently what I have become over the last few years. 

Turns out not quite an hour is just enough to get a 97% complete backup, download all your browser bookmarks and note all your passwords, order a new computer, and email critical files to yourself. Thank goodness I had the wherewithal to think of this much.

Finally, with a startled squeak, my laptop shut down, and that was that. 

It's taken with it the title of every book I've borrowed from the library over the past three years, which means I finally understand why people keep book journals on paper. I figured, why bother when the library app keeps track? but for some reason, once I logged in on a new device, all that information was gone. 

Fortunately I remember the titles of two I particularly wanted to mention here, including this absolutely marvellous memoir/cookbook by Sally Schmitt with Bruce Smith - Six California Kitchens. 

 

I honestly can't think of another book I've read recently that I found as moving and insightful and riveting... I guarantee I will not make any of the recipes, with the exception of the one for pie crust, because I don't have easy access to the ingredients or the audience for most. But I pored over every one, learning a ton of kitchen techniques. I looked forward to every moment I could spend with this book. I learned so much about - well, so much. It's a very approachable, very personal story of a woman who became enormously successful doing exactly what she wanted to do in the way she wanted to do it. If that's not reaching the top of Mount Everest without tools I don't know what is. I cried reading it, and I laughed, and who does that with a cookbok? Highly recommended.

I dove into some Ngaio Marsh mysteries this month as well. These are 'golden age' stories published up to seventy years ago, now, but they stand up. 

The one I found most pleasing of the latest batch was Grave Mistake, because so much of it is told through the view of a witty, engaging character with a very practical view of the people around her. If you haven't read any Ngaio Marsh, I recommend this one.

Have I done any knitting? nope. I did however figure out a fix for my too-tight socks that only requires ripping back to the heel flap, so I'm going to do it. I thought I'd leap into that when my computer died, like it was A Sign I should turn my back on tech for a day, but then I looked at my upcoming deadlines and bought a budget backup laptop locally to keep plowing through the work.

Hope your week was a little smoother than mine! Let's meet up again next weekend and see if things have improved at all. I know there will be pancakes happening here in a few days so that's an automatic win, don't you think?

A new look at stashed yarn

Moving out to renovate your home presents a unique opportunity to do some major downsizing, and I didn't want to blow it by leaving the whole thing to the last minute... so of course I bought another book to read.  But wait! this one is actually applicable.

Yep, it's The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, by Marie Kondo.  And you know what?  This is one of the most enjoyable books I've read in a while, which is saying something - not least because it's a nonfiction book on how to get clutter out of your house.  I mean: that description right there should be a reason not to sink deep into the pages and relax.

Nonetheless, it's a really pleasant and uplifting read. The perspective of this book is that everything you choose to keep in your home, regardless of the amount of space you have, should bring you joy.  And you can only know if it brings you joy by putting it into your hand and looking at it.

Of course a non knitter could read that, then look around the cluttered house in fear and horror.

A knitter is going to think immediately of yarn.

What knitter doesn't want an excuse to take out every single ball or skein or cake of yarn and pile it on a table with its fellows, then hold each one for a moment to feel the joy it brings?

Still - we all know for sure that some of that yarn is not going to bring us joy, but guilt.  Guilt for overspending, for buying yarn as souvenir instead of for love or even need, for still not having knit the stuff, for not realizing that this particular fiber is so much not a favourite, for not accepting that a queen sized blanket out of laceweight is just never going make it to the needles.

The book offers an answer to that guilt, and I think it's brilliant.  All you have to do is acknowledge the lesson that item has taught you.  To thank it for teaching you that lesson, and to let it go because it has served its purpose and can now go and teach somebody else.

So... those cones of yarn I bought hugely on discount and in enough quantity to make sweaters and shawls and hats and other things?  Yeah, I am never, ever going to get through that stuff.  I have knit with it enough now to know that I love working with 100% wool... but not if it's itchy.  That I loved knitting sweaters when I was a size 5, but not now, when I'm not.  That the colours I have in this yarn are not colours I want to work with any more, because I'm a bit tired of them now.

I can thank those cones, and I can let them go.

And ten minutes after I have irretrievably done that, I will come across the perfect pattern for all of them that I cannot wait to knit, and I will kick myself.

But 

you know what?  I will still have about two years' worth of knitting material that I am crazy about and will love using, to help me work through the pain.


Here's the book's approach in practice.  After reading some of it at the dining room table I put it down and saw a yellow piece of plastic still sitting there from my Christmas cracker.  H'mmm, I thought, that's an obvious thing to toss.  And I picked it up and put it in my hand and really looked at it and you know what?  It made me happy.  But more than that, I realized it is something that can go on making me happy.

It's a yellow plastic ruler with inches and centimeters and stencils in the middle.  Only three inches long, but that's good enough to check gauge with, and it's short enough to fit into the emergency kit I keep in a little pouch for my purse.

Plus:

If I happen to need to check for a size 9 knitting needle, I can do that.

Thank you, Magical Tidying Book, for teaching me.  

(seriously though, this is a really good book with a lot of insights about life in it.  I am so glad I found it... and the cover? the cover totally brings me joy. even when it's just lying around on the dining room table, and not tidy at all.)

The Night Circus, in book and yarn forms

Twisted Fiber Art is not just an excellent source of delightful yarns, but also, book recommendations.  A few months ago Meg mentioned in her Ravelry group she was thinking of dyeing colourways to go with Erin Morgenstern's The Night Circus, about which I had not heard, so (as you may recall) I looked it up and bought the audiobook.

Most people seemed to love The Night Circus and the few who didn't all said the same thing: it's a bit slow.  Having finished at long last I think that what they really meant is:

a/ it's a really long book

b/ the action spans a very long period of time.

Most (all?) chapters begin helpfully with a date but with an audiobook it's difficult to flip back to see what the last chapter's date was, and I found it hard to keep track.  Also, the story seemed to jump around a bit.  One reviewer had complained that 'nothing happens' which I found a bit strange since something is happening all the time... but the time does stretch out so that the things that are happening look rather small in the big picture, and perhaps that's what he was getting at.

In any case, it's an entertaining story and the descriptions of the circus itself are nothing short of delicious, which is good because there are a lot of them, what with the circus being the core of the plot and of all the events that unfold within it.

One conceit about the circus' style is that it is presented entirely in black and white and all the shades between.  So it's not a surprise that one of Meg's colourways - the one I had to have - is black and white and grey.

I do remember ordering this, but not why I ordered one skein in Playful

and another in Yummy.

It might have been because I wanted black and white striped socks and a hat to go with.  I suspect that because also in Playful, I ordered the coordinating 'Night':

which is, as you can see, straight black. It's not quite common to find black yarn, have you noticed?  and it goes so well with so many things and in so many roles, such as heels and toes and sock cuffs.

I suspect my having intended the Yummy for a hat because it's got cashmere in it and who doesn't want that on his or her forehead?  But also because...

... this colourway does do an awfully good job of matching the magical cowl.

Now, of course, I'm wondering why on earth I didn't order some in the velvety soft and fiscally conservative Duchess.  So I am probably going to have to get on that, and fast.

Speaking of the magical cowl:  I've worked up some informal instructions for how to make one of your own, and with luck and time to type them up, I'll post them tomorrow.  Have a great day and I'll see you then!

Increase your knitting capacity with audiobooks

My weekend was entirely hijacked by the audiobook of Rebecca Skloot's The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, and if you have not read it, you might want to go right now and acquire a copy.

You know when people say they couldn't put a book down?  (a comment made in several reviews of this one)

Well, I couldn't press Pause on the recording, and when I really had to do that, I couldn't wait to press Play again.  The book grabs you on so many levels, in so many different ways, it's bound to have something big to offer you too.  And while I normally prefer reading with my eyes, this particular audiobook is fantastically well-read.  SO highly recommended.

Not wanting to move too far from my computer - I wasn't organized about getting the book onto something more pocket-sized after I bought it - I got a ton of knitting in for the duration.  Knitting time just seems to expand when you're willing to stay up till 2am even though you have to be up at 7am, just so you can hear a bit more of a story.

Probably this huge expansion in knitting time is what made me feel generous enough to cast on another pair of small-person socks.  (we will just pretend we don't know that generosity is much less needed for socks small enough to whip up in a very short time, shall we?)

These ones are knit with Duchess from Twisted Fiber Art, in a colourway I stalked for ages before it came available again:  Dapper.  It comes with a Denim semisolid coordinate, and also a Suede, which is what I used for the cuff of this pair.  The heel will also be Suede, and the toe, and I am so in love with knitting them I might do a second pair with Denim accents.

I think the stripes are lining up all right, don't you?

Important note

There is something about Duchess that I knew and forgot, because I was preoccupied with discovering that - in spite of what I'm about to say - it's still just wool and not as warm as the wool/mohair Stoddart I make in the same weight for cold weather.   Here is why that just doesn't matter though: knitting with Duchess is an amazing experience.  It's soft and squashy, but smooth and slick as it flies across your needles.  Touching it with your eyes closed you would think it's silk, or possibly non-sticky butter.  I need more of this yarn, and I suspect you need some too.

Back to the audiobook

Technically, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks is about some human cells, which have been used among other myriad things to develop the vaccine for polio.  The cells that are the subject of the book are amazingly prolific for reasons that seem not to apply to other cells used in research, which makes them exceptional.  They are cancer cells.  They were all grown from a sample taken from a cancer patient called Henrietta Lacks.

The story is, then - and not in any particular order - about

a/ biology

b/ the life and death and kind of immortality of a remarkable woman

c/ this woman's children and in particular her youngest daughter

d/ ethics (or lack thereof) in medical research and the changes in laws that relate to them

and, for me personally one of the strongest yet invisible points,

e/ the unbelievable focus and drive and persistence of Rebecca Skloot.

Whatever you enjoy in a good story is almost certainly in this book, and it is supremely well written (I actually understand medical stuff about cells now, it was so clearly explained.)  But whoa, in all of that I marveled at the writer herself, who first heard about Henrietta Lacks at the age of 16 and not that long afterward started into ten years of active research for this book.  It's the sort of idea that might cross a young person's mind, and might even take them far enough to think of where research might begin, but it takes somebody pretty amazing to pursue the story the way she did and to such good effect.  I find the whole thing incredibly inspiring.

Oh, and did I say I knit a lot while I was listening?  Because I got halfway through the Dapper socks, and finished the second half of the Holiday Boogie Woogie Socks, and designed and knit half of a pattern for fingertip-free gloves to take to Italy for al fresco dining.

I finished the book around 1am on Sunday, and then because I was just so impressed I went to Rebecca Skloot's bio  page.  Guess what?

She's a knitter.

See you tomorrow - I have stuff to show you, owing to all that knitting time.  Yay audiobooks!

Blog and giveaway tour: Cast On, Bind Off

A while back I was invited to participate in a blog tour of reviews and giveaways for a knitting book whose title alone sounded pretty great to me: Cast On, Bind Off: 54 Step-by-Step Methods, by Leslie Ann Bestor.

When my review copy of the book arrived, I knew it was going to be a must-have for all of us because look:

Spiral binding, folks!  A technical reference with spiral binding for easy access just coos 'sober thought' and 'careful planning', don't you think?

Having looked through it now I can tell you there are a lot more reasons I am in love with this book but they will have to keep for my own review at the end of July.  In the meantime, I want you all to have every chance you can get to win your own free copy, by visiting the other sites on the tour:

7/9         Picnic Knits

7/10       Knit and Tonic

7/11       Zeneedle

7/12       Rambling Designs

7/13       Rambling Designs (pt. 2: Leslie Ann guest post!)

7/14       Neo Knits

7/15       Knit & Nosh

7/16       Knitting at Large

7/17       Rebecca Danger

7/18       Lapdog Creations

7/19       Nutmeg Knitter

7/20       Yarnagogo

7/21       Weekend Knitter

7/22       knitgrrl

7/23       It's a Purl, Man

7/24       Whip Up

7/25       Knitspot

7/26       Under the Humble Moon

7/27       Knitting Daily

7/28       Knitting School Dropout

7/29       Hugs for Your Head

7/30       The Knit Girllls

I'll keep this post anchored to the side margin of Hugs so you can access it any old day and catch up on any of these sites.  I can't wait to see what other bloggers have to say.

Meanwhile, you may also wish to visit Storey Publishing's blog for more tour information.

Have a great day everybody, and I sure hope there's some knitting in it!

Fleece and Fiber

Appropriately enough since the Tour de Fleece was in full swing at the time, my much-drooled-for copy of The Fleece and Fiber Sourcebook arrived a couple of weeks ago. 

This is just a beautiful, beautiful book.  Even if you don't work with fiber it's more than satisfying as an up-close examination of the huge genetic variety within the world of one particular animal, and a celebration of how human beings around the world have been able to utilize their local resources.

The cover gives you a clue of what's inside. Not just the history and use of each animal and its fiber but knitted and woven swatches, loops of spun and plied fiber, and samples of the actual fleece both raw and clean, for every single breed the authors could find.  All photographed in the most peaceful, lovely way over large pieces of solid-colour fabric set onto a wooden surface.  Swoon.

In this respect, it's more exhaustive than Clara Parkes' The Knitter's Book of Wool, to which it will inevitably be compared, but there is plenty of room for both on my shelf (no matter how many other books have to move elsewhere to make that true!)

Goal post

Lest you think I got so far down Sock Lane as to forget my original objectives for this year, I am here today to tell you that Tom came by last week and brought this:

Maple is a special club colourway from Twisted Fiber Art, which may eventually become part of the shop's regular rotation (it was certainly very popular!!).  I ordered these additional braids in a non-superwash merino because I continue to have problems predicting how much a superwash yarn will spread on blocking, and because I am thinking the retention of all those little grabbing arms will make it easier for me to spin.

Because it's possibly not replaceable, I fear working with it on the wheel I intend to learn how to use this year.  I'm thinking I will use it as my carrot, the fiber I get to spin once I know how.  It's very very pretty to look at and touch in the meantime!

Later in the week the regular postman brought some books I'd ordered, including Knitting Without Tears and this:

The Intentional Spinner was recommended to me by Helena, who has taken a course with Judith and found her beyond marvelous.  I can believe it, having read through much of the book now.  Over at Knitting and Tea and Cookies we did a survey that included the one knitting book we couldn't do without, and this one might have to share shelf space with The Principles of Knitting, for me.  It's got all the fiber breakdowns I love from The Knitter's Book of Yarn, another Can't-Do-Without book, and an exhaustive (but far from exhausting) section on techniques to spin different shapes of fiber for different purposes.

I was particularly interested in techniques for combining previously plied yarns and/or singles, since I'd really like to bulk up the laceweight I'd intended to use for 2011 Goal #2, the Estonian-ish Shawl, and use it for something else.  Which is not to say I've entirely given up on the Estonian Shawl idea.  Just that I accept needing something super elastic if I'm going to survive nupps.

You can buy this book on its own, or for a little extra expense with a companion DVD.  I bought the DVD version, but it's my understanding from the reviews at Amazon that if you're looking for Judith's instructional material what you want is The Gentle Art of Plying - this link is for a video download from Interweave, but you can also buy the DVD set from them.

I will do one or the other when I get through my current book and its little DVD, unless I find a course first.  Ady expressed marked interest in learning to spin and even pointed out how helpful it would be for me to have a friend who spins but does not knit or even weave, so I think she's serious.  And I am pretty sure that I can teach her the basics of a spindle, then line up a more advanced course somewhere between our towns.

So - yes.  Even though I have been very busy frogging and reknitting mohair socks to such a degree that it's already too warm again to wear them this winter, and dreaming up ideas for more hats, and knitting little presents, I have also been thinking about my spinning wheel and the fact that I still don't know how to use it.  It's progress of a kind, right?

Weekend reading

It's been an exciting week for mail, but the highlight was definitely receiving my copy of Fearless Fair Isle Knitting:

 

I knew this would be a hugely informative, priority-for-the-reference-shelf book because I have several of Kathi's other books and because I read the introductory chapter while knitting the sample I was assigned for it. I also knew the photographs would be stunning because I've seen a few on Kathi's blog.  But in person? whoa.

More than the sum of its parts.

First we have to get out of the way the mandatory visit to the sample I knit.  I haven't seen it in such a long time, after living with it for weeks!

There are a lot of full-page photographs in this book, but I wasn't prepared for a full-page closeup.  I am so grateful I was careful about my stitches.

So very grateful.  Two closeups?  and oh, look, you can see how I stitched on the fasteners!  I spent some serious time deciding on the prettiest way to get them on - good thing too.

This book falls easily into the top ten of the most beautiful knitting books I own.  It's so peaceful - nice large size, lots of white space, stunning photography - and there are lots of good reasons to keep going back to it, from the easy Fair Isle tricks I mentioned to the inspiration potential.  This is one of those books with a lifestyle element, as in...

... if I knit and wear these mittens, I am totally going to feel like I'm agile and in a lovely place working with gleaming materials to some organically satisfying purpose.  (I'm also going to be using up leftover yarn from a larger project, because Kathi is nothing if not practical.)

The book is full of patterns I want to make, from the vest on the cover, which I would cast on for right now if I had the yarn in the house,

 

to this hat, which I think would solve the problem of what Christmas item to make for a guy for whom I've already made a lot of things and need to come up with something that's special for reasons other than fiber (hard to top qiviut) or length of time (one word: ManSocks.)

Oh, and these fingerless gloves.

I love the idea of eating something as delicious-looking as that sandwich on a cool-day picnic this spring, or next fall, don't you?

(and you know what? I have lightweight wool in pretty much those exact colours in my stash right now.  h'mmmm.  maybe this post should be called 'weekend knitting', not 'reading'?)

Pools, and not the summertime kind

I'm entertaining a little eyestrain as a result of all this close work I've been up to, so last night I put the needles down and browsed through my newly acquired copy of Carol J. Sulcoski's Knitting Socks with Handpainted Yarn.


Also known as 'the book I needed before I started the variegated socks.'

This is an excellent book and I would be proud to wear any of the socks in it: if you've been thinking about getting it some time, my advice is to stop thinking and just treat yourself.

In addition to the ones on the cover by Jody Pirrello, my particular favourites are Laura Nelkin's Whirlpool Socks:


I probably couldn't face putting all those tiny beads onto the yarn but if you click on the image to see them up close I think you'll agree they are stunning. Maybe I could get somebody else to do the beads for me, or plan that activity for a day without eyestrain.

... and Veronik Avery's Staccato Socks (yes, I do hate myself for not knowing how to put the accent over the e in Veronik's name, especially since just typing that means I've butchered it twice) which are designed to make use of leftover sock yarn but also would be beautiful with just one yarn, I bet:


Okay, having established that, and bearing in mind that these patterns both use self-striping rather than truly variegated yarns, let's have a look at my socks in progress, shall we?


Um, yes.

While I am compulsive about symmetry and matchiness, I've learned to let that go with sock knitting: as a rule, I keep most of my wardrobe either plain in form or colour or both and use socks as the one wild note, so the wackier the better as far as I'm concerned. I will wear these when they are done because I love all the colours in them and they fit super comfortably (and I have a very good pair of boots that will hide all but the cuff)

but

I have revised my plan to knit until I run out of yarn and then do the cuff in red. Instead, I'm going to make them a respectable length for jeans and get out of Dodge, saving what's left as an accent in a better pattern from the book.

Bonus: I'll finish a pair of socks before the end of the month! assuming my eyes stop being hurty before then, of course.

The Haapsalu Shawl

oh. my. gosh.


My friend Merli at Apollo Publishing hoped I'd have my copy of The Haapsalu Shawl in time for New Year's and it CAME and it's so beautiful that when I opened up the parcel I was speechless!

(and honestly, it takes a lot for a girl like me to go speechless.)

It's so beautiful that as I opened the parcel to look at it the guy next to me said WOW. That is the most beautiful book I have ever seen.

(and let me tell you, this was not a knitty sort of guy.)

The cover design is beautiful and the photography is beautiful and the paper stock is beautiful.

But apart from all that: this is the most thorough stitch dictionary I own, and I have a few. It's got:

history


a stitch glossary with images so you understand how to make each individual stitch

clear instructions with diagrams for finishing and blocking

'Master's Advice' inserts throughout the book and

large, lovely photographs of Haapsalu residents wearing a shawl or scarf, with a quotation about what the town and/or garment means to her.


But is that that enough for this publisher? Not by half!

The book is oversized - 9.5" wide x 13" tall - and each stitch combination gets its own page. Complete with an impeccable photograph of the stitch above and a large, clear chart below.

It's a heavy book and given the size I don't know where I'm going to store it and it is in such perfect condition because it was wrapped so carefully for shipping that I'm afraid to just leave it lying around where it might get a dent on my watch and yet -

there is so much white on white on the cover, and such a generous amount of white space on each page, it feels as ethereal as the shawls themselves.

This is a great book, and I think you need it. You don't even have to order it directly from the publisher like I did, because the English translation is available at shops now too. Like, for example, Needle Arts Book Shop!

Knit One, Embellish Too

I mentioned this book last winter when I first bought it, but with gift-giving season looming, I just have to recommend it again.

It has a lot going for it - Cosette Cornelius-Bates writes in such a friendly and knowledgeable way it makes a nice read on its own, and it does have a lot of patterns in it - but there is one thing I especially appreciate.

The section at the front that explains basic techniques.

Seriously. The last couple of days I've needed to do a lot of blanket stitch to finish off some Christmas presents, and that's a stitch I've managed to escape for lo these many years - as in, my entire life. Nor did I have a embroidery-mad friend anywhere within reach. Yes, I could have jumped over to YouTube to look for a tutorial, but that would have interfered with watching Howl's Moving Castle. I needed a book.

It turns out I had three books in the house that explain blanket and other embroidery stitches: Knit One, Embellish Too is the only one that made sense of it for me.

And this, my friends, is why I think somebody in your life needs a copy of it. Maybe even you!

Socks and Homespun

Earlier this week I got my copies of Kathleen Taylor's The Big Book of Socks and the All New Homespun Handknit. Bliss!

I've been fortunate enough to know Kathleen for many years, and after enticing me into sock quicksand she was ready with advice and support, but this book is something else again. 75 patterns! And all distinct and mostly multi-sized! Plus a huge appendix that details the formulae for different heels and toes in different stitch counts. One of them is a short-row heel that doesn't leave holes up the side, something I wish I had read before I turned the heel on my second socks (the day before the book arrived, dagnabbit.)

The Big Book of Socks is a reference shelf keeper, over and above being a great source of fun patterns to knit for everybody you know - even if I didn't know Kathi from Adam (do I even know an Adam, I wonder?), I'd still say that every knitter needs a copy of it.

All New Homespun Handknit is just as luscious as the original, with gorgeous photography and amazing ideas. Kathleen's got a sock pattern in there too, in gorgeous sun shades that beguile thoughts of just-cool-enough autumn days.

Lovely book but - reading through it, more so than with the original, I felt wistful about not having figured out how to spin successfully. You can see with each project how the artist has followed an idea through from the very beginning with such amazing creativity... and while I love listening to music, I know too well that it's even more exciting to be in the band hearing it all around you and contributing your part.

The next day, my mailbox yielded more treasures, including another purchase of tinyhappy zip bags I've been snapping up for gifts, and as pockets for my smaller knitting projects. When I opened the parcel this time, though...


It's handspun. Plant-dyed handspun, a gift given in thanks for my devotion to all things tinyhappy (though I still feel that the thanks should be all on my side because these little bags make all my knitting feel so much more special.)

And it's my favourite knitting colour, in a perfect weight for a huge variety of possibilities, some from the book, some from my own head. I couldn't speak for several minutes - which is most unlike me - and then I couldn't make any sense at all, I was so thrilled. Thank you, Melissa!

Classic knitting

I am a sucker for vintage patterns even though, when you make them up as written, the armpits sit higher than a five-scoop ice cream cone. Honestly, how did women survive all those centuries with that kind of armpit restriction, let alone cook and clean?

So you can see how I would perk up when I stumbed across this book, titled Knitting Classic Style. It's everything you want in a knitting book - inspirational patterns, beautiful photography, and informative introductions. I did not know, for example, that the practice of layering a short-sleeved T over a long-sleeved T was begun by skateboarders. Apparently they were trying to show off their sponsors' logos as printed on short-sleeve Ts while protecting their arms from injury, but obviously they also knew a thing or two about cramped armpit-avoidance.

I'm finding it hard to go through the book and keep my hands on the pages... I keep looking up and noticing I'm simultaneously reading and walking down to the stash cupboard to see what would work for which garment. But here's the biggest shaming moment of all:

What I really like are the socks.

How is this possible? I bought a ton of Tanis Fiber Art Green Label Aran at a recent KnitFest specifically so I could make a sweater, and now all I can think of is what warm squishy socks it would make. I don't know what's come over me.

Mittens and the making of three dimensions from two

Well, I never did organize a project to bring along to the knitfest last night; I carted along some very nice felt-able yarn I haven't quite decided what to do with so I could practice knitting in the round on straight needles. SO much easier than it seems, especially if you don't mind a sealed edge at the bottom should you mess up the way I did (hey, even mistakes can lead to useful things like purses or pockets!)

Yep - easy, interesting, and even soothing. I need to fuss with the technique some more but I like it.

Another comfort for the sort-of failed knitting experiment was the speaker at the fest: Robin Melanson, whose beautiful patterns have been just about everywhere you want to be and whose book Knitting New Mittens & Gloves gets rave reviews that do not surprise me one bit. She had brought along some samples from the book and I think I managed to look closely at one and a half of them before I had to beeline it for the shop table that had copies to sell. They're that wonderful.

Think about it: summer may be coming but as Elizabeth Zimmerman points out in the Knitter's Almanac, mittens are a perfect summer project, being small and portable and not at all warm in your lap. Sort of like socks, really.... h'mmmm.

The Knitter's Book of Yarn

I love this book. I know I mentioned it in some earlier blog when I was checking out a library copy, but last week my own arrived in the mail and I couldn't be happier with my decision to buy it.

There are yarns I've tried and feel I will never ever go back to, but this book explains why I should, and how to make it work this time. For example, mohair. I'm sure I worked with it during my Earlier Knitting Life in the 1980s, and I may never forget the five cowls I made with it during KnitFrenzy 08, Christmas Edition. And I do not miss it. However, when it's kid mohair and it's spun right, apparently mohair is pure joy.

Oddly enough, I have proof of the fact. I just got around to revisiting some yarns I used for a few hats so I could check the yardage (another topic for another post) and was surprised to discover that two of them - Colinette Iona and Noro Silk Garden Sock - both feature kid mohair. The Iona's mohair is spun mostly with wool plus a little silk and just as Clara Parkes promises, there is a little halo over the foundation of the wool, caused by the mohair. And the mohair and silk do reflect light in a stunning way, again as promised.

The luster is less evident with the Noro, which adds nylon to the mix for durability. In fact, it feels hard when you touch it. Hey, I bought it for the colours; I was willing to make a trade-off. But when you knit the Noro with an appropriately small needle, wowza. It's soft and touchable and feels solid and reliable, and thanks to Clara Parkes, I know why. I don't know if I'll buy it again, but I do know how to use the rest of it in the pleasantest possible way.

In other news, and as a reward for reading this much of today's post, stop by tomorrow for a surprise bonus treat thingy, 'kay?

Froggabilities and a freebie preview

This weekend, in the midst of hunting down solutions to my knitting storage problems, I felt compelled to add to said problems by drifting into a charity store. Yeah, ever since I read Knit One, Embellish Too (two thumbs up) I've been intrigued by the notion of recycling yarn from other people's sweaters, and when I'm intrigued, I'm dangerous. This is what I got:

This sweater above is too soft and fluffy to be wool. I suspect its donation resulted from being cast on so tightly at the cuffs I could barely try it on, and the huge lumps along the sleeve seems. Great stitch though - a full flower that looks more like crochet than knit, and rounder than star stitch. Hate to rip it out but it's not wearable as it is, and I'm pretty sure it's not feltable.

This one is beautifully knit with a yarn that's too soft and flexible to be wool unless it was generously washed and blocked, which is possible in spite of the very slightly plastic-y feel, but the burn marks on the front imply some acrylic content. Or maybe those aren't burn marks so much as condiment stains? Anyway it looks great here and super frumpy on, so: froggable.

Isn't this one gorgeous? Hand-knit in Italy with a front that's all cables, this small-sized vintage sweater has three quarter raglan sleeves (raglan being my fave). And the colour! I'd lose weight to wear this thing if the yarn, 70% wool, 20% mohair and 10% nylon, wasn't waaaay too itchy to come anywhere within skin range.

Okay, perhaps my time could have been (and will be) better spent on other things given the impracticality involved in ripping these out - the salmon one in particular is a bit matted-together. What keeps me going is how fabulous the colours look together. They do, don't they? And surely I'll think of something to make with scratchy yarn. Right? urg.

Meanwhile, I have not neglected the promised chemo cap pattern:

Took me all weekend to get the brim right, but it's good now and will not be at all floppy in the finished product, I promise. I'm hoping to have the rest done today so I can block it tonight and post the pattern later this week. Needles crossed!

A book I can recommend:

The Knitter's Book of Yarn by Clara Parkes. Not that I should be surprised, since Clara Parkes is the publisher of Knitter's Review and a contributing editor to Interweave Knits.

Okay, it's true that the cover is adorable, something that shouldn't sway me and always does. But you find out pretty quickly that you're in competent hands and will finish the book with more than just an understanding of the properties and behaviour of different yarn and what you'll have to compensate for; you're going to know where the fibers come from and how they're processed. And you canNOT beat a book with beautiful photographs of yarn and Finished Objects. Finished Objects for which patterns are provided, no less.

I was particularly interested in the entry on bamboo, having hung out recently with a knitter who was making a drool-worthy* baby sweater from lavender and pearl tinted bamboo yarns. And oh, the cabled tea cozy in two colours... I so need to make that, and then have a tea party.

I think this one definitely needs a place on my bookshelf, yes? and when it comes out in October so will its companion, The Knitter's Book of Wool.


* I refer of course to adult drool; not the baby variety. I would be reaching instinctively to get a bib over that cardi at the first hint of spit-on-lip, it was so sweet... though really, drool happens, and a girl oughtta be allowed to drool on her very own summer sweater, don't you think?