I'm Getting Somewhere

OK, people, I think I may actually be getting somewhere. I've spent hours on the numbers and draping this morning and finally squealed to Scott: "Eureka! Lord, I'd be lost without math." Whereupon he spit-choked his coffee.

I'd like to advise that, despite his fantastic spatial reasoning skills, he was of no help whatsoever.

Have a look at this:

My speculation is that the vertical piece (wrong side up) that follows the general length of the hardwood seam is the centre back. The pointiest part at the bottom tip  of that vertical line is the left centre back. The part that curves up to the right-hand side of the photo is the side seam leading to the arm seam (obviously, the entire front isn't done, I'm still knitting it). The part of the sleeve you can see is the front. Then, the diagonal bit on the left-hand side of the photo is the front left side of the surplice, the left wrap, if you will. Right now I'm making the front of the left side of the sweater.

In as much as something can be knit on the bias, I believe this puppy is.

Now, let's talk about some of the hideous features of this pattern (which I hope are contained within the instructions and do not spill over into the finished object):

•  OMG, would it have killed Ms. McCardell (or her people) to put together a fucking schematic?? It's not like this is a shell with increases and decreases at the arms and neck.

•  And while we're at it, on nature's most complex pattern, could we go with something more in the directions than: Right Half - reverse shaping from left half. There are increases and decreases on just about every freaking row. I. am. not. joking. One false move and you are making a thneed.

•  The instructions refer to the sleeve edge and the side edge in addition to the centre back edge and the neck edge and the neck facing edge (fucking hell). Technically the sleeve and side edge are the same edge, but when you don't know how the thing comes together, that's impossible to know. By that logic, the neck edge and the centre back edge are the same.  In fact, a big part of the reason that I started draping the fabric is because I couldn't figure out where to do my next batch of increases. Sidebar: Let's assume I'm right about this. I consider this my crafting public service of the month. Maybe even the season. Cuz there's no one else I can find who's made or written about this pattern.

Concerns:

On my math-path (as I call it), I figured out that I've got another 10.5 inches or so to knit on the front left side. That will definitely make the front longer than the back. I have to assume that's the goal of the pattern, to allow for the cross-over at the waist. But that's about 5 inches of extra length over the back. I really hope this isn't going to mess me up.

Why am I so concerned, since I am following the instructions? Well, my gauge is not the same as that of the pattern instructions, of which I'm well aware. This suits me in terms of circumference. BUT: My vertical gauge is 10 stitches per inch rather than 11. You might think it shouldn't matter since I've knitted the entire sweater with that gauge in the same yarn.  However, the sweater instructs - at some points - that one knit to a certain length and at other points that one knit a certain number of rows. Since, all things being equal, my gauge will give me a longer sweater than the pattern's, I'm a bit concerned that the ratios for front and back may be off.

Egad! I love blogging and I love math!! I just figured out how to fix this problem. And I did it just in the nick of time. If you want the deets, let me know, but in short I figured out the difference in length of a variety of rows (my gauge vs. the pattern's) and I'm subtracting it from the part that directs you to knit numbers of rows (rather than the spans wherein you're directed to knit absolute length).

My one other concern at the moment is that this thing isn't going to fit. But I can't really do anything about it at this point. I need to finish at least one side before I can drape it on my dress form for confirmation. If the size is off (up or down), then I'll need to decide whether to frog it or to keep on and give this thing away. One issue at a time...

Shout Out To The (Knitting) Experts: WTF?

Um, if anyone can tell me exactly how this is supposed to turn into a sweater, I'm all ears:

This is the LEFT side of the sweater. It's a mirror pattern. The theory is that the right side will look exactly the same, only in reverse.

My understanding is that the top left side and the top right side (on either side of that notebook) will be seamed together to form a sleeve.

Of course, this side is not finished, there's a decreasing section that's set to start in about an inch and a half.

In case you need a refresher, here's the only pic of the sweater I can find:

It appears that this thing is knit on the bias. Ok, ok, I suspect that's impossible. What I really mean is that it will be seamed so that the final garment falls on the bias.

In truth, it's looking less weird at this point than it has done since I began this endless swatch of stockinette. Now that I've achieved full width at the top (the "sleeve" area), I can almost envision how it will be seamed at the centre back and then under the arms/ at the side.

I still have concerns about the sizing. But really, maybe this is one of those projects you need to finish (at least one side) before you have any sense of what will come next?

Or y'all could enlighten me.

Note: If you have serious concerns that this is never going to be a sweater, feel free to voice them.

Oh, and one final pic to show the lovely colour:

Keep in mind that this is not blocked, so the stitch is not as even as it will look when all is done.

Looking Up

There's a point to be made, when one is a blogger who likes to post photos of new purchases, that one should ensure there's some photo of the purchase on the web, or simply take a freakin' picture.

Alas, I went yesterday to purchase new sunnies - I did this in 20 minutes, fyi - and neglected to take an in-shop photo. In truth, I can't really tell you what they look like. It sort of like when you buy a house and three days later it occurs to you that you cannot remember anything about it except that you really love the tree in the front yard and the kitchen is awesome.

No problem, thought I, I'll grab a shot from the net and impress you all.

The thing is that I somehow managed to buy vintage deadstock. And there's nary a photo of that on the web.

Let's start at the start: I cycled down to Spectacle on Queen West, having called the shop earlier to determine my options. I learned that I could hand over my current glasses and have the lenses exchanged (but that would take 5 days) OR buy a new pair of glasses, receive them, then give in my busted glasses for fixing. That option would allow for a) continuing to have sunglasses, crapped up as they are, as I am truly light-sensitive at the best of times and b) confirmation that I'll get exactly the same colour of (dipped) lens on the busted ones, when those lenses are replaced. Without the originals, they can't guarantee an exact match.

I opted to buy new glasses, waiting with the old ones till the new ones are ready, and then to get the old ones fixed. Most expensive option, check. Quel surprise.

Sidebar: Do you know that light-eyed people are more sensitive to light than dark-eyed people? They're also more prone to macular degeneration (yuck). And green eyes are the most rare colour? My eyes were blue as the sky until I turned 7, and one day they went green. It was incredibly weird, given my southern Italian and Puerto Rican roots, that I had blue eyes to begin with. But I'm surprised to learn that green eyes are less common still. Between that and my left-handedness, I feel rather recessive!

OK, back to my purchase, I tried on every pair of glasses in that store like a machine.

This left me with 4 maybes, 2 vintage deadstock (by Cutler and Gross) and 2 modern ones (by brands I can't remember).

Of the modern glasses, one pair seemed to be the most popular with people I polled (and I'm not shy peeps). The other was cool, but kind of delicate. Not my scene. The popular ones were an interesting striated acetate, but in order to get the lenses to be dark enough, I would have had to go with a polarized brown. Note to reader: When you look through polarized brown lenses, everything is yellow. It's kind of sickening. Always take the lenses outside into daylight and confirm that you're not going to be seeing the world though a nauseating filter, should you buy that pair. Other note to reader: I don't love polarized lenses, even though light-sensitive people tend to like them because they reduce horizontal glare.

Of the vintage ones, one pair was black and wide like my current ones. More glamorous, natch. They are very Audrey Hepburn / Breakfast at Tiffany's in vibe (though her glasses were actually much rounder). However, these seem rather similar to my Oliver Peoples, all things considered.

The final pair, the winner as we like to say, has a tortoise-shell acetate frame. It's not a small frame, though I have a small face, so these glasses will give lots of coverage. The frame is almost butterfly shaped, with a nose-bridge keyhole (I think?!). This pair does look vintage, but not weird. I made certain to confirm with reviewers that, in these, I am channeling a movie star, circa 1960, in Capri, rather than a 42-year old mother of a 'tween trying to look hip. I've gotta hope people are honest. Lord knows, I am.

The frames were on sale by 40 per cent. They were still pricey. If you considered that they have likely languished in a factory since 1962 when they would have sold for 10 bucks (and that would have been expensive), I paid an ungodly amount for these things. But I do love vintage. I love to imagine the former life these things might have lived. And deadstock, unlike worn-stock, is new even as it's old. The frames were refurbished beautifully by a company that's in the biz. So call me crazy.

Photos to follow in 5 to 10 business days. Yes, that's how (freakin' insanely) long it's gonna take to make the lenses. If you want fast, go with polarized. They're not dipped, the filter is embedded in the lens.

Life Lessons

I sense that I'm one of 10 people in the world who got into a canoe accident this weekend. Seriously. Have you ever seen how slowly those things go? Nonetheless my husband managed to steer me into a hanging branch, and not a small one. (In his defense, we were at a wind-y place and he hasn't been in a canoe for a couple of years. There was a little bit too much velocity happening as he executed the turn. Also, I suppose, I could have ducked. Or so they tell me.)

My extremely pricey (IMO) sunglasses, which I treat with such care, were flung from my head, along with my hat (but into the boat rather than the water, thankfully) after being scratched to shit by said branch. I'm of the opinion that the glasses saved my eye. Others think I may have merely saved myself a scratched cornea. Either way, that would not have been a good scene. The branch bounced of the glasses, while it tossed them, and grazed the side of my face instead.

Oh, and then the heavens opened and I spent an hour canoeing in the relentless, pouring, miserable, cold, disgusting rain from which I could not flee. I was fit to be tied.

At any rate, this is my second canoe experience this summer (after a hiatus of many years, and I'm no "girl with a canoe") and I can't figure out which one was worse. In NC, I went on the New River, apparently the second oldest river in the world, and a 4-hour trip ended up taking 6 hours as the water was 6 inches deep in most spots and littered with jutting rocks. Also, extreme natural beauty aside, we had to somehow get around the water-hogs in inner-tubes who were drinking beer and very rudely staying in the middle of everything, despite not really needing water just to sit there and get drunk. That was the trip where I learned about how exercise can truly be an act of desperation. I knew I was never going to get out of that fucking river if I didn't paddle.

This weekend's experience taught me something concrete about my nature: I am very attached to my things. Sure, not all things. (Lord knows, I give away sweaters like they're growing on trees.) And, sure, I cling to some things more than others. But I was so angry about the destruction of my glasses. The combo of my love of beautiful objets (that also manage to be entirely practical and useful) with my hatred of disorder and waste, well, it brought out my less-than-endearing side.  Of course, my friends worked to calm me, weirdly, by suggesting that I need a frame, slightly more a la mode. Smart. That's about the only thing that stopped me from complete anger-wallow. The option to self-improve.

So I'm off to Spectacle to buy a new pair. (Re: Light sensitivity these days, I cannot be without my wrecked up current glasses until new glasses are ready, whereupon I'll get the current ones fixed so as never to be in this situation again.) If only this weren't about to cost a boat load of money... (hahahaha, get it?)

Pool of the Week

I'm off to Collingwood this long weekend to enjoy some fun with friends and to continue my summer of adventure. In fact, we may even go to this spa to swim in the hot and cold pools, take saunas and steam with eucalyptus. My friend Sandra is amazed that I suggested doing this, in light of my general horror over public bathing. I have a thing about germs. Strange, I realize, that I LOVE to post photos of pools. My instinct to be creeped out by swimming with strangers is at odds with my love of clear blue water set in beautiful landscapes. Mind you, no time like the present to change my attitude. As long as no one is renovating at the spa, I should be able to control whatever anxiety-provocation comes my way.

Let me leave you with today's gorgeous water-feature:

Photo from Desire to Inspire

Do yourself a favour and read the entire post for many more photos of a mid-century gem.

I wish you a weekend of spectacular weather, wonderful food, great conversation, fantastic music, fun activity, deep sleep, plentiful inebriants (used moderately, of course), perfect landscapes and wonderful memories. It's good to be you. xoxo

Give Me Shelter

My shade card arrived and it's all that!

Let me start by saying that it was adorably packaged in a sturdy envelope and that it's ingeniously, compactly designed to give you info while remaining low-cost to ship. Very smart, Brooklyn Tweed.

Furthermore, the colours are spectacular. Muted, but intense. Who doesn't love shades named "soot" and "woodsmoke" and "homemade jam".

I can't really give you a description of how this wool will knit or wear. The swatches are too tiny. But I can tell you that the yarn is soft. It does not feel rustic. Everyone likes to say it's lofty, but I can't really say what that means. It does seem springy and light.

On the basis of this card, I will purchase the yarn. When I do, and when I get around to making something with it, I will most certainly update you. Till then, ambivalent yarn buffs: do yourself a favour and order the card. If nothing else, you'll love to look at it.

TO State of Mind

In case you're wondering, there's been a dearth of crafting here. It's been, um, stressful in these parts. I refuse to immortalize my renovation anxiety; I'd prefer to tell you, sometime in the near future, how it all played out fine in the end, smug, like those reno snobs. For right now, I urge you simply to move house the next time you want to improve your living space :-)

At any rate, S, my fitting friend, is in the midst of a very busy time in her life. I've got futons and stuff in my sewga room. Between the two of us, we haven't seen much of each other in a couple of weeks and may not for a while. I have made up a second muslin of my fitted bodice "sloper" (you know every new fitted bodice for me is likely to be its own thing, given the intriguing shape of my torso) but that's as far as it's gone to date.

I'm not feeling the sewing urge. Much like last summer, I can't find the creative zing - compulsion, should we call it? - to sew. It's too fucking beautiful outside. Too stressful having my house reconstructed around me. Too crazy at work. Too busy at weekends.

I've been finding my creativity in small ways. Knitting the sweater that looks like, well, anything other than a sweater. I'm prepared to discover I've gone all wrong on this one, but I can't really determine that till I finish one side. The fact that this thing is knit in sock wool is making it a very meditative (read: endless) experience.

No cooking to speak of. No baking. But I have been riding my M's bike to and from work and all around the city on the weekends. I've rediscovered this city in a fairly spectacular way. To wit:  Y'all know how down on Toronto I tend to be. It's dirty, it's noisy, it's cold, it's wet. Weekend urbanites co-opt and crowd my "cool, bohemian" neighbourhood; it pisses me off. (Seriously, go get your own cool neighbourhood.) We live to work in this town. Everyone's all about the work.

But I was recently blown away by a day trip I took in my own town. Scott and I cycled, mostly scenically, down to Harbourfront (in truth, a place I loathe). Got on a water taxi (10 bucks a person, peeps, including your bike) and spent the afternoon cycling the Toronto Islands and swimming at Hanlan's Point beach. In 30 minutes I was out of the city and on a vacation (Muskoka-style), swimming in water that was crystal clear and sand-bottomed for half a mile out. When we'd had enough, we went back to the city and cycled home.

That's the first time I've ever set foot in this part of Lake Ontario. When I was growing up, the lake was a polluted mess. In fact, the whole way to the island, I maintained that I would most certainly not be swimming. It's probably the clearest lake I've ever been in.

Some key details:

• Toronto Island (as we call it) is fucking gorgeous in a way that makes me proud and awed to live here. There are zillions of things to do (not that that's motivated me before, except sporadically). If you only go to the beach, this place is worth it.
• You do not need to wait like the riff raff for the ferry. Seriously. I will never take that stupid ferry again. Water taxis are to island hopping like taxis are to urban transit. Why take public transit if you don't want to? It's not like you save a boat load of money. (Hahahaha - get it?)
• Bring food and towels and sunscreen. A bike with a couple of baskets will provide all the storage you need. There are places to eat on the Island but they're either crappy, overpriced or hard to get into.
• You will never see a better view of downtown Toronto than from the Island.

I've been to so many terrific cities with amazing secrets to discover. But I've never seen anything quite like this.

I'm calling this my summer of outdoor adventurism: biking down mountains and all across town, canoeing, swimming in the city, going to visit friends up north. What I've sacrificed in crafting productivity, I seem to be making up for in lively activity.

It's a tradeoff I'm willing to make right now.