And the yarn continues....

The beautiful wrap didn't fit either of us, so after I unsuccessfully tried to add pieces to the fronts to cover the boobs I frogged the whole damn thing and then reknit part of it with bigger needles -- until I tried it on and discovered that it would still require a bra of a kind that I didn't wear even when I was younger and perkier. So I refrogged and am now trying another sweater from Fitted Knits. It seems to be going together better, and in any case, the yarn is a delight to work with. And the color is gorgeous. So, we'll see.

wrap sweater from Fitted Knits

I finished the Airy Wrap Sweater from Fitted knits. I didn't modify the pattern too much, except that instead of mohair I used a silk/alpaca blend (I didn't want it too fuzzy); and this yarn had a really nice but subtle sheen to it. I also knit the sleeves in the round, sort of on accident, because I didn't realize that you weren't supposed to. I don't think it matters either way, except that you have to go back during finishing and fix a hole in the armpit created by knitting in the round. Oh, and I also had to figure out the cable pattern at the end of the sleeves for knitting in the round, but that wasn't too difficult. The cable pattern at the bottom edging was the hardest part for me - I ended up taking it out and redoing it 4 times. The directions say something like "continue cable pattern as established" but I couldn't figure out where exactly in the pattern that was. Ultimately I think it came out really nice, and I'm proud of it. The sad thing is that it doesn't fit me, but it's almost like when you spend hours cooking a really extravegant meal, and then, being so exhausted by the meal preparation you don't even feel like eating it any more. There's got to be a word for that. Anyhow, Mom - how would you like a sweater? I have a feeling it would fit you perfectly.
Here's a question - block before finishing or after? I've always wondered which is better. Or is it a project-by-project decision?

Why am I doing this?

Well, actually, I'm doing it for three reasons: I liked the picture of the tank in One Skein Knitting, which Cinda gave me for Christmas, I needed a mindless project for car trips and doctors' offices and there's nothing more mindless than rows and rows of stockinette, and finally, I had this yarn.
You can't tell from the picture, but it's not yarn but tape. The orangey color is really a copper, and there's a yellow-green mixed in. The tape was part of a collection inspired by movie characters, and this one was called, I kid you not, Nurse Ratchet. I think I bought the stuff not just because it was on sale at a really good price but because of the name.
Last summer I knitted up a top, got almost done and noticed that it was too small and short. So I frogged the whole thing, and was left with some rather worn looking tape. Considering how little it cost, I should have chalked it up to experience and tossed it, but my New England ancestors wouldn't let me. (My grandma saved string and rubber bands.) So this summer, during those car rides etc. I've been working on the tank top.
This is not a pleasure. I've decided I don't like working on tape. It has no give and the needles catch in the open bits, and besides, the reused tape is just plain ratty.
On the other hand, I like the copper and puke green mixture. And it drapes rather nicely. And the pattern is certainly mindless.
Reminder to myself, and resolution: My grandma also used to make quilts out of remnants she got from a men's underwear factory. Some family traditions should die. I promise not to buy yarn just because it's on sale (except at Webs).

I finished a sweater, and it doesn't suck!

I have finished sweaters before, but none that I've really been happy with, either fit-wise, construction or craftsmanship. So my goal was to actually finish a sweater I would wear. This one was interesting because it was knit as one piece, but not in the round - rather, from right sleeve to left sleeve. It's almost like an oversized shrug, with the ribbing running sideways instead of up and down. The knitting and pattern was actually really simple, but I somehow miscalculated and ran out of yarn - and I'm not joking - in the middle of the very last bind-off row. This would have been ok but there's a bit of banding in the back that was part of the finishing, and of course I would need yarn to sew it up. AND the yarn store was out of that color, so I had to wait for the next shipment to come in. But all in all the sweater knitted up quickly in about a weekend (on size 15 needles!)

Genius from the outside

My sister-in-law Rita visited from Utah this week. Rita sews, knits, quilts, and crochets, and brought along two crocheted bookmarks that her mother had made, wondering if we could, between us, figure out the pattern. As a crocheter-turned-knitter, I thought that going backwards to get the pattern would be easy. Doubles on a base of chains. Nothing to it.

It turned out to be a two-hour project involving muttering, false starts, frogging, and frustration. What was interesting, though, were the assumptions that we started with (the first one being that it was doubles on a base of chains) and how hard it was to get past the assumptions.

Once we finally did, we went in strange directions involving incomplete dbls (puff stitches, not great for a bookmark) and amebic freeform creations. Rita finally said, "My mom would have done things the simplest way, and really regular," so we bagged the chain three alternating with chain five ideas and went back to a granny base. Clarity came when one of us started flipping the bookmark front to back and using slip stitches to get from one cluster to the next.

What I got out of this, besides a pattern for a bookmark I'll probably never make, was a) respect for those craftspeople who are able to untangle the genius of previous craftspeople, and b) a reminder that those assumptions that we start out with are probably not only wrong but crippling. Maybe those knitting geniuses are able to do it because they start midway through the process, after discarding the first assumptions.

I tried to take a picture of the pattern, but it came out as a white blob (okay, that's pretty accurate); but here are Rita (brown hair) and me working it out.

Are knitters geniuses?

I've been knitting off and on for about 10 years, and while I'm by no means advanced, I'm the kind of knitter that has to try something new with each pattern. I'm not content to knit a stockinette-stitch box sweater with one color, there has to be at least a little bit of visual interest. But because of that I end up picking patterns that at some point manage to completely confound me. I will read it over and over and can't seem to make sense of it, to the point where I end up involving my non-knitter but very analytically-minded husband. This makes me wonder whether I lack the organizational and number-oriented skills to become a really great knitter. I think knitting is more like baking than cooking, you really need to follow the recipe perfectly and not just throw in a little of this 'n that. And I'm always amazed at the designers featured on sites like www.knitty.com who in their other lives are molecular biologists and astrophysists while simultaneously managing orphanages and traveling around the world. It's not just that you have to be smart - you have to be a certain kind of smart. I'm beginning to think you have to be more left-brained analytical than right-brained creative. You have to be able to count and remember numbers, and I'm very NOT number-oriented. I guess the reason for someone like me (more on the creative, visual free-flow side of things) is to train my brain to think this way - orderly, analytically, following direction. But boy do I get frustrated when I can't figure something out. Oh, but the good thing is my husband actually does help me figure knitting directions out, even though "knit" and "purl" is the extent of what he knows.