Nature Vs. Knitter

The reason you haven’t seen much of me around here for the past few days is because I’ve spent every waking moment (not otherwise accounted for) knitting this freakin’ sweater. My child has eaten an array of questionably appropriate dinner foods: hot dogs, take-out Indian, cheese and crackers with carrot sticks. The laundry is unlaundered. My (vaguely old-looking) hands are truly cramped by the time I retire – 2 hours later than I can generally keep my eyes open for – at approximately midnight.

Do you ever play spider solitaire and find yourself unable to quit. If you lose, you think “just one more game; I know I’ll be a winner next time”. If you win, you want to see how long the streak will last. That cycle can go on for a good hour. C’mon, you do that. I know you do.

You’ll be pleased to hear that I don’t gamble. I don’t buy lottery tickets. I don’t go to the track (though, really, it might be just the place to knit!).

My friends laugh (a kind of rueful, knowing laugh) at my type A knitting style. But what can I do? I come by it honestly. Apparently, it’s not very knitter. Apparently, knitters are gentle creatures who sculpt their laid back world views in a woolly canvas. On Wednesday I had the most fun at a knitting night at Lettuce (a veritable hotbed of serious fibre art crafters). What welcoming and friendly women! What gynocracy! Alas, as so often happens, on some fundamental level, I felt removed. And not because I’ve been knitting a week and these women have been doing it for a combined 200 years. (Moreover, who, more than I, loves to talk parenting and politics with a bunch of smart women, drinking booze? Isn’t that kind of like paradise?)

It was when I queried a couple of them about how long they’d been working on their items – for how long they imagined their (many complex) projects would continue – that I felt the encroaching divide. I assume I'm paranoid, but at that point, I think I might have seen the slightest inkling of a questioning look. And I just could not relate to the claims that these knitters couldn’t say, that they work simply according to their natural pace, that time is not really relevant. Seriously?!

Call me a (goal-oriented) philistine, but how the hell does anyone do anything without considering their investment of time?

Let me break it down for you (and I know this because I’m keeping a line-by-line ledger of my every row):

• I started this project on April 30.


• I started over on May 1.


• It took me 15 hours to knit the back of the cardigan.


• It has taken me 7 hours to knit one side of the front – and I estimate another half an hour before it’s done.


• While this is entirely speculative, I surmise that it will take me another 7.5 hours to knit the other front half.


• And probably 5 hours to knit each sleeve.


• I’ve opted not to make the belt – I’d prefer to use another closure – probably one of those wooden knitting pin closures. I’ve always wanted one of those!


• Blocking will take approximately an hour (followed by time to dry).


• Then I’ve got to sew it all together (by hand). I don’t know – maybe that will be 3 hours? (Sewing things up with wool is apparently quite easy). Of course, it could take forever and I’m deluded.

Since no one seems to be able to give me any feedback about how long it takes to knit a simple sweater, I’m going to make my own guess: 50 hours. That’s if all goes as planned (stifle your giggles please). Note: I'm entirely new at this. I'm sure a seasoned practitioner could do this in less time...

Maybe I’ll never be a real knitter (or a real sewist, for that matter) because I’m not doing this for the simple pleasure of working with my hands. I make things because I want to make things. I want to see how they start from nothing and turn into practical and (hopefully) beautiful products. I want to systemize my skills by deconstructing them in notebooks that I can look at again and again. I want to keep lists – to itemize where I’m at. I do not want to work on the same sweater for 6 months, picking it up and dropping it according to my momentary interest or schedule (which secretly and judgementally I see as a code word for “whim”). Maybe that’s eventually how it will go. Maybe I’ll get with that casual (supposedly happy-making) philosophy over time, but I can’t imagine it. Odd as it may be, for me, the joy in craft is in doing it regardless of how time-consuming or overwhelming or scary it is. Call me crazy, but I enjoy those feelings. They make me feel engaged. They give me a rush.

I'd love to hear from the knitters and sewists and those who engage in other craft hobbies. Are you type A too? Do you sense I'm corrupting the artform with my hideous attitude? Can you explain to me how you analyse "crafting at your own pace" (whatever it is for you)?

In the meanwhile, excuse me while I go ice my hands.

Room Tour: The Sewga Space

There's a post series going on out there, in which rather well known sewists show their sewing spaces with fascinating explanation.

Alas, no one's asked me to participate, so I feel the need to take matters into my own hands. What I lack in sewing clout, I posit I make up for in style!

For starters, I am fortunate that I have come to sewing relatively late in life - because it gives me a bit more disposable income to spend on the important things, like hideously expensive (but top-of-the-line) sergers:


Yes, there she is, the Babylock Imagine, facilitating all my interior finishing needs at a moment's notice. You can also see my chic denim "regular machine" cover, though now, when I look at the inside seams, I want to start all over :-) I know I don't deserve this high end equipment at my novice stage, but that's between me and my line of credit. I've decided I'm going to improve adequately to meet its standard at my earliest opportunity.

Intriguingly, I have 2 other machines - the $200.00 Brother (encased in the cover), which Scott bought me and which kicked off this spectacular life journey, and a Singer 185J, which was gifted to me by my MIL a few months ago. Both of them are also great machines and I feel tremendously lucky in the sewing mechanics department.

Between yoga and sewing, I spend a lot of time in this space, so I feel two things are de rigeur: flowers and utter organization. Enter my latest purchase, which I've been waiting on for weeks:


It's modular plastic bins with a wood plank top. Likely I could have found something just like this at IKEA for half the price, but I opted to support a local business and it does fit perfectly in the mini (formerly wasted) space I have to use. The book situation is going to change. They're just hanging out there till I can find a chicer solution. I don't like to cover up a window with stuff...

Here's a longer shot...

In the first shot you can see the "paper bag" binder I have in the corner. That's the subject of another post, coming up soon, in which I advise you about my pattern inventory system. Note: I stole it from one of the most terrific sewists in the 'sphere, Victoria, but I don't think she'll mind... (Other note: Victoria - I'm working on the award post "interesting things about me". Will put it up soon and thanks!)

A couple of interesting facts about this room:

• My husband lawn-surfed the oil painting on the wall. It was so made by some family guy in his art room in 1972, which is why I love it. Art rooms are the thing peeps. Or art cubbies, if space is short. I've said it a thousand times - I am so grateful for my creative space.
  
  
• The sewing table is not an antique! I just learned from my mother that it's a reproduction she commissioned in the early 80s. It was designed with a special cut out in the back to fit over the rads we used to have in our old west-end home. Needless to say, one day it will be an antique because it is just beautifully made.
  

I'm not in a rush to perfect this room - an extremely unusual state of affairs (or admission) knowing me. I want to watch it develop into the most functional place for work. Functional, but with lovely form, natch. Two things I desperately need, but haven't been able to source affordably as yet are task lighting that really works (and looks awesome) and a decent chair. My back and neck are really taking the brunt of this, working as I do, but it hasn't come together yet and I guess I'll need to be patient. I think the universe is urging me to finish paying off the serger first, yes?

On the other side of the room is the fabric storage unit / ironing board / yoga prop section:


See the green genie i.e. Singer machine in its case on the floor there? Every single scrap of fabric I own is in the (ugly but endlessly functional) chest-thingy. You may be intrigued to know that's the first furniture I ever bought in 1986. I was with my mother and we found it outside a wood shop in the Beach. It's good to remember that, time was, I had really questionable taste. It keeps me on my toes.

I have all of my muslin, fashion fabric, fabric notions (i.e. shoulder pads), lingerie supplies, lining and scraps in that cupboard. My rule is, when I can't (neatly) fit those in the piece, then I can't buy more. So far it works. Note: I do believe in buying fabric to suit pattern purchases. Though I, like every sewing obsessed person, can barely resist fabric (it's like drugs) in its natural habitat, I have to remember that a) it's really expensive and b) it's useless if it sits in a closet gathering dust.

That mirror is excellent, btw. It makes you look super skinny :-)

Y'all know I love looking at interior spaces and I love sewing spots, so please respond in kind. If you have a sewing space (or a yoga space! or a fitness space! or an art space!), show it off. You can attach a photo in comments or link to a post of your own. I really would love to see where you discover your best self.

43 Hours in Montreal

I freakin' love this town!

So, I may have been there for all of 43 hours, but not a moment was wasted.

Coming later today - and continuing on and on and on - is K Went Shopping in Montreal theme week.

Stay tuned for pics and details on the following highlights:

• My experience at Headquarters Galerie and Boutique (in a word, awesome!)
• Walking and cabbing and metro-ing through rain and shine. And the rain was torrential...
• Going to the YSL exhibit at the Musee de Beaux Arts
• Shopping on St. Denis and St. Laurent and St. Catherine and de la Montagne and the list goes on. The purchases are sooooo fun!
• Seeing Wall-e at the AMC (formerly the Montreal Forum, now a movie complex?!). In brief, DO NOT TAKE YOUR KID to see this. Total trauma will ensue. 3 hours of crying. Cartoon is not for children. Or adults with any issues about the state of the world.
• My awesome hotel, the Gault, where everyone should stay at least once because it is so beautiful and luxurious, it will thrill you.
• Yummy food.

I've Got Some Fun Things I'm Working On

So, I won a contest and Super Kawaii Mama (I like to call her SKM), the most glamourous of bloggers - she reminds me of Dita Von Teese - is going to make me over for an occasion of my choice. I'm so nervily entrenched in my own style that I'm very intrigued to see how she will do me up. You should totally check out her blog because it's great and when you observe how insanely gorgeous and, let's just call it like it is, buff this woman is, you will not believe she has a kid that isn't even one yet.

Then, Cordelia - we go way back - from Curella Says tagged me for a great meme she came up with called "What would you Wear Today". I have a feeling it's going to be popular!

Finally, the lovely people at Nicole Bridger sent me their presser and some interesting info about this fairly new Canadian line which I intend to share with you.

Oh, and on the advice of Miss Cavendish, I will post about my fave brands of readily available - and reasonably priced - Tshirts.

All will be coming up shortly...