When The World Is Crazy, Might As Well Knit

Despite the gorgeous weather today and the Santa Claus Parade (it starts up the block from me), gotta say I'm not feeling my best. Maybe it's the season, maybe the recent funeral, definitely it's the political unrest... Pick your poison. Point is, I'm a total sad sack. I could barely bring myself to eat lunch (or drink my glass of wine?!?!). Scott suggested that we go out for a walk before dinner, just to ensure I get some fresh air. Note to reader: He never does that.

So, given that Ewe Knit, my LYS, moved from Mirvish Village to, um, basically the top of my street, it seemed like a no-brainer to go shopping. In truth, I've started visiting often, now I can knit again (my pain situation is much improved). There's something so compelling about thousands of artisanal hanks of wool, artfully displayed. It really does make everything seem alright. And when you can experience it against the backdrop of thousands of families enjoying a parade, right outside on a warm, bright day - well, it's a good thing.

For starters, here's the (regrettably overexposed) haul:

While this gives you a sense of the true colour of the Rowan "soot" colourway, it really washes out the gorgeous blue jewel-toned and amazing variegated yarns.

The goodies are: Rowan Superfine Merino Aran in Soot (3 skeins), Sweet Georgia Tough Love Sock in Stillwater (1 skein) and Sweet Georgia Superwash Worsted in a jewel-toned blue called Rip Tide (2 skeins). FYI, Sweet Georgia is a Canadian brand that I LOVE. The yarn is all hand-dyed and the product is excellent. I liken it to Madeline Tosh but less expensive (in Canada at least). The sock yarn, particularly, wears amazingly because it's got a bit of nylon in it.

You may recall that the Rowan Superfine Merino Aran is what I'm using to knit the garter stitch version of L'enveloppe. FYI, you can also make it using seed stitch. I'm almost finished this unusual garment, btw (subject of my next post). I really don't appreciate the splitty nature of the Rowan yarn - as I've told practically everyone who will listen - but I want a pair of mitts that matches the shawl, so I guess I'm in it for 3 more skeins.

Here are the mitts:

Seed Stitch Mittens + Hand Warmers by Purl Soho

Stupidly, despite the name of the mitt pattern, when I started the garter stitch version of L'enveloppe, I forgot that these mitts are designed to be knit in seed stitch only (infinitely more elegant - if much more fussy - than garter stitch). My goal was to have a matching shawl / mitts set yet I went and made the shawl in garter. My reasoning was sound - garter stitch is WAY easier than seed and I have no idea of how it is going to fit in the end. Didn't want to invest lots of potentially painful wrist-action on an unknown. But now I've got to hope that dark grey yarn can provide a cohesiveness to this "set" that the pattern certainly cannot. Live and learn.

Mercifully, aran-weight yarn knits together fast - especially if you're used to making intricate sweaters in a gauge that rivals dental floss. I can see why Wool and the Gang (and their mega-bulky yarn knit with US15 needles) are so popular. By contrast, I'm used to using fine fingering-weight on size US1 needles.

After the mitts and shawl, I'm either going to use this variegated Sweet Georgia fingering to make socks (my KAL "recipe") - here's how it knits up:

OR the Sweet Georgia worsted to make the Winterlong scarf by Bristol Ivy:

Winterlong Scarf by Bristol Ivy

Y'all know how impressed I am by Bristol Ivy's patterns. She's the one who designed the infuriatingly genius Svalbard.

Would I be better positioned to have used some of the 8000 yards of yarn I already own (and that's probably an accurate count, fwiw)? Um yeah. But I'm a bit sick of matching projects to my stash leftovers right now - that's always a bit of a trick and it requires a certain degree of creativity I'm not feeling.

If only I could predict how much yarn to buy so that I'm not left with 100 yards less than that which is required to make whatever other item I'd be happy to use up my stash on...

Anyway, that's me today. What about you? Do you like these yarns / patterns?

CURIO for the Holidays

So Lovelies, in case you're pretending otherwise, it's pretty well 6 weeks till Xmas. Time was, I would be getting a bit "excited" at this point. I had to devote precious time to the actual stores. There would be crowds. Post-shopping alcohol was vaguely necessary, like, to decompress.

But now, what with the internet and everyone being half robot (if merely in one's ability to navigate said internet), you can drink while you shop - online! I swear, if you're one of those people who still resists buying from the comfort of your couch, I urge you to get with the program. And I'm not talking about purchasing the occasional gift online. I mean buy it all online cuz, at this point, there is nothing you can't get delivered (even in Canada)!

I usually put together a gift planning post at this time of year as I always seem to have a hundred ideas. However, this year, I'm all about turning you onto the simple, luxe of CURIO, you know, my skin care line. (I'd be pretty high on drugs to do otherwise!)

Just want to advise that - in addition to my current offerings - I'm in the process of putting together a couple of holiday skin care kits. Those bundles will make their way to the shop soon and I'll certainly profile them here.

And, though I hate it when people alert me to irritating (if relevant) administrivia, according to Canada Post, in order to "ensure receipt" of a regular parcel before Christmas, one must put that parcel in the post by December 11 (within Canada), December 9 (USA) or December 1 (pretty well everywhere else). Following what I hope will be a busy next few weeks, the shop will close for hols on December 21 (for 2 weeks).

So, if you're thinking about giving a delicious, organic Serum to your mum or best friend, now's the time to get clicking. And just to entice, here's a pretty photo of Serum A sporting the new label:

No doubt, Serum A, Eye Balm A - Rose and the Body Oils are very popular, but don't forget about the Salves and CURIO Baby*:

Seriously, these scents are bound to CHILL (new parents and new babies)

Y'all know I love to chat so, if there's anything gift-related you'd like to discuss (or any ideas you'd like to bounce) feel free to contact me via Etsy conversations, email (see the side bar) or in comments.

Oh Summer, Where Art Thou?

Here's what it looked like last night (12 hours into the pouring rain):

Photos courtesy of my husband, Scott.

People, April is NOT the cruelest month.

PSA: COS is in the 'Hood

Y'all know how I love COS - that Swedish brand that's a bit like Club Monaco but much more deconstructed (for the most part). The prices are better too. Well, COS was only available to me in Europe till a couple of months ago when it moved into Bloor Street. (I know the brand has also expanded into the US recently - for example, there's one in NYC.)

What I love about it, mainly, is the asymmetric and interesting design and fabrics which are very wearable and much more luxe seeming than the price point (merino comes to mind).

At any rate, though I'd read about the shop opening on Bloor, I didn't think much of it because I hadn't yet run across it so it was basically just a fairy tale. Today, however, all that changed - completely by accident - and I'm thrilled to tell you that it's just as good in TO as it is in Barcelona (in fact, it looks almost identical). I'm particularly pleased that one can actually afford to buy something there before it goes on sale (though sales are preferable, natch).

To wit:

COS Asymmetric Merino Top - $125.00 CDN

I know, the photo make this thing look like a chic convocation gown. Don't be fooled - it's fantastic.

This photo does no justice to the beautiful quality of merino wool of which this garment is made. And really, what is this garment? It's more of a dress on me than a top - but if you were tall it would be more like a hip length top. Or is it a poncho? Who cares. It's stunning and, as much to the point, interesting - and it looks like a million bucks. One arm gets a full, fitted sleeve and the other gets a little opening where the arm goes through (like a cape). It's very warm though, even as it's rather slim in the gauge, because it's comprised of a lot of really warm fiber and it's cut high in the neck. Dress it up, dress it down. You're going to look rich either way.

At any rate, I recommend you get your butt to COS. You could also buy online - though not sure how expensive that would be.

Today's questions: Do you know the brand? Have you got some COS in your wardrobe? If yes, does it make you feel Swedish when you put on those crazy cocoon shapes? Do you feel the need to wear a black stacked boot while donning the crazy cocoon shapes? Let's talk.

Sunday Night Dinner: Homemade Chicken Pot Pie

For a person doing nothing, making dinner tonight sure took a lot of time. I followed Joe Pastry's "recipe" (but I made the crust gluten free, using a new recipe and, um, there were a few rolling challenges).

It's not difficult, but everything takes time. To wit:

First you chop and brown whatever vegetables you like...

I made a mirepoix and added a potato, peas, mushrooms and sage.

Then you add some chicken. I Scott shredded one that comes from the store:

Let that sit while you prep a veloute (stock and roux - with a bit of milk for good measure) and make a crust. Better still, make those a day in advance.

In a hilarious turn, I made the veloute with regular flour. I just didn't know what would happen, texturally, with a non-wheat flour, and I wasn't feeling experimental.

I put the ingredients in the plate before adding the veloute. I find it's tidier than trying to transfer a saucy casserole from saute pan to oven-safe container:

In truth, I don't think I'd added the veloute at this point (see photo above). Everything was going in different directions so photography wasn't my top priority.

I really should have followed another recipe for the crust. It looks alright here:

But it's unstable. It's merely butter and flour. Nothing to give it any structure (vinegar, egg, water - something!). I thought I was being minimal but I can smell this crust melting down in the oven - literally. It's not cohering.

It shouldn't have surprised me because this is what happened when I tried to position it:

I must be changing because Krissie of 5 years ago would never have shown you such an eyesore?! At this point, I don't really care. I mean, it's a miracle I got it from the counter to the top of the pie.

I didn't make the stock from scratch, nor did I prepare the chicken and I still worked for a good 90 minutes before sliding this into the oven.

I do hope it's tasty, even if the crust is a bust. Lord knows there's enough of it.

Do you make savoury pies? Do you like them? Let's talk.

Update: The finished pie was flawed, but in a promising way. Next time I'll sautee the vegetables for longer, use a different crust and brown the roux for longer (my ratios - which I followed from Joe's recipe - were off and so the sauce is a very tiny bit floury). Also, the fact that the crust from this iteration of the pie is basically butter/flour slurry (albeit of the rice variety), it soaked up the veloute and the sauce became too thick. M LOVED it, flaws notwithstanding.  Scott, who doesn't ever like veloute, was not into it. It takes a long time to make this given that one of us doesn't like it. Still, it's very hearty, warming and the flavours are beautiful. I can see myself making this occasionally - especially as, when I fix the issues, it's going to be totally delicious.

What I Do When I'm Not Doing Anything

I've spent the last week in a haze. I don't mean this poetically. My vision (a challenge over the last year - one of those I really don't feel like discussing) has been particularly fuzzy. My head is actually heavy (but not painful, happy to report). I'm encircled in the kind of exhaustion that only the onslaught of hard-core international travel, death and loss of daylight can produce. I feel dissociative.

This weekend, I'm calling a time out. It began last night at Enoteca Sociale (my current local), eating gorgeous blue cheese (with candied pecans, made onsite - the key is deep frying), the best dense, sourdough bread in the city, soaked in copious amounts of olive oil (I don't like bread, but I'll make an exception here). I moved onto gnocchi with a smoked tomato sauce and dollop of silky ricotta. Somehow I resisted dessert - the wine pairings helped. I didn't waste my time with vegetables. Everything ingested was to soak up the floatiness and replace it with grounding. And seriously, if you care about service - amongst my most coveted requirements - you cannot go wrong here. Our Enoteca server friends bring a beautiful experience.

Peeps, if your world is uncertain, eat Italian. I mean, really good Italian.

Next week will go back to craziness at work, each evening occupied by some activity (more often than not meeting with architects and design-build firms, cuz we've got to do that reno I've been avoiding). But for the next 2 days, I'm sitting on my couch with knitting and a book. There will be some yoga. I may make a chicken pot pie. Convivially, I will drink a couple of bottles of wine.

A propos of reading and knitting, I'm fortunate to have some good things on the go:

The Knitting: Do you know this pattern?

L'enveloppe by Sally Melville

It's one of those very interestingly constructed, hybrid garments. It's either going to be great or hideous - but I'm up for it.

I'm using a yarn which is currently NOT impressing me: Rowan Super Fine Merino Aran in the Soot colourway. It does have lovely drape and it's a very nice grey meets black, but Lord, it's splitty. I had to buy a bamboo needle with very pointy ends, just to accommodate it, and I still need to be careful because the yarn is barely plied. You can actually untwist it by hand and see the numerous threads that make it an aran-weight yarn. Mind you, it is machine washable.

Since superwash yarns are notoriously expansive after blocking, I opted to use a size US8 needle which got me a horizontal gauge of 16 stitches in 4 inches and a fabric that coheres. The pattern actually gives you any number of choices to achieve 4 different gauges and numerous different sizes in those gauges. I actually find it more complicated than helpful, but if you want to use yarns of a variety of thicknesses, theoretically, you can.

I did swatch and block before starting this project because it's a fitted garment, to some extent - and I wanted to feel confident about the sort of drape the final fabric would produce. I was inclined to use a US9 needle (not that I ever knit anything with needles that big - even a US7 is an oddity for me), but the fabric would have been too open for my liking. I think this garment looks sloppy when the fabric is loose.

I've finally come to an understanding that, if one must be careful about one's knitting volume (for reasons of pain), it only makes sense to knit with bigger yarn on bigger needles. Fingering yarn on a US1 is 8 times the work of aran yarn on a US8 needle. Not to mention that aran yarn knits fast. Yeah, socks are always going to be a slim-gauge undertaking but they don't use a lot of yarn in the scheme of things. I sense my days of fingering-gauge sweaters are over for the foreseeable future (famous last words).

The wildcard here is the size. I'm making the small - which is a 32-34 in the bust.  Now, the yarn (being of larger gauge) has more stretch-per-inch than a smaller-gauge one would. Not to mention, I'm a narrow person in the shoulders (where fit matters most in this garment). In fact, I'm surprised it doesn't give measurement by shoulder instead of bust circumference. Moreover, the next size up is 36-38. Where does that leave 35 inches? Point is, I don't think the sizing info is particularly robust (and oversized versions look unlovely in the photos) so I'm erring on the small side. We'll see how that plays out.

The Reading: Recently I was interviewed by writer, Matthew Remski, who's researching a book about modern postural yoga and the injuries it can cause / the premises that underpin yogic injury. (Here's the prospectus, in case you're interested.) The thesis is fascinating, IMO, and I'm so pleased to inform a small part of it. Since I discovered Matthew and his work (which is featured in a variety of online publications including his own blog), I've been reminded of an ever-polarizing school of thought about yoga (the postural vs the pranic) and it's really expanded my awareness.

Anyway, though I appear to have been living under a rock for the last 5 years (yoga-book-wise, anyway), I finally purchased a copy of Yoga Body by Mark Singleton. Full disclosure: It reads more like someone's PhD thesis than a yoga manual. It's an academic consideration of how modern postural yoga owes much more to Indian colonialism of the 19th century and the European gymnastics movement of the early 20th century than to the ancient Indian practices with which modern westerners generally accredit it. Note: No one's proposing that yoga isn't an ancient art, but that postural yoga (that stuff you do at your studio three times a week - that stuff I've been practicing and teaching for 25-years) is a modern, quasi-western construct through and through. Does that shock you? It's pretty well what I have always presumed - particularly since the onslaught of popularized yoga (what I like to call YogaLite) in the 90s.

This book, when published in 2010, raised the hackles (and undermined the foundation) of many a yogi and caused quite a bit of discourse. I recommend it, though I'm only part way through.

Finally, BTW, I'm ready to put it out there that I have non-negligible issues with the decline of daylight at this time of year (steadily worsening till it's almost impossible to bear). OMG, it's RIDICULOUS. I can actually feel myself ebb. Yeah, if you look back in my archives, at autumn posts over the last 9 years, I'm sure you'll see this theme emerge at every turn. But it never ceases to floor me. How did people survive this before modern shelter and heating? Those Samis and Inuits are punished by geography. It's no wonder that alcoholism runs rampant in the far north of northern countries. At a certain point, hygge is everything and, while I realize that hygge more about good food, wood fires and coziness than booze, don't kid yourself. The booze is a meaningful part of that equation.

Today's questions are all over the place: Have you made L'enveloppe (or would you)? If yes, how did it turn out, size-wise? Have you read Yoga Body? Does it surprise you that yoga might owe as much to the west as to the east? Does it bother you?

And let's leave it on the seasonal affective note: If you live in the north (let's say north of latitude 40, to maximize the pool), how the fuck do you stand it?? Really, a fireplace only gets you so far. (PS: You can suggest exercise, but I've already got that one in the bag and, really, it only takes the edge off the worst of it.) Hibernation, alas, is not an option.

Finished Object: Starshower Shawl / Cowl

My arms have borne up well to knitting lately, which is merciful because I've had opportunity (to say nothing of a multiplicity of deep feelings to quantify) to make this hybrid cowl/shawl over the last week and a half :

It's Starshower by Hilary Smith Callis, a lovely, practical pattern - the only downside of which (in the knitting, not the admiring) is the excess of lacework involved.

Have I mentioned I hate lacework?

In true knitting-lace style, I came upon a stitch fuck up that cost me 2 hours (I was very tired at that point and the work moves from knitting on the right side and the wrong side of the fabric. Moral of the story: don't lose focus). At my grandmother's funeral, we reminisced on her obsession with puzzles (she was able to resolve any puzzle, no matter how complicated or how many pieces were involved) and on how she'd taught us all (seriously, everyone) how to do them. I, for one, never liked puzzles. I found them tedious, difficult for no good reason. Who cares?, I'd wonder. But as I unworked and reworked stitches to fix my mistake, I was reminded that really, I was putting together a puzzle. And, gently, comfortingly, it reminded me of the ways in which my Self has been shaped by my formative influencers.

Starshower floats atop the shoulders like this:

Starshower by Hilary Smith Callis

What I did really well: I used a great yarn. It's new to me: Quince and Co Tern (a fingering-weight yarn made of 75% wool and 25% silk). Yeah, I've spoken highly of Quince yarns before - I like them a lot. But I am finicky about silk blends. I feel they tend to sacrifice recovery for drape and that can create a garment that quickly wears badly.

Tern is a delight! It's springy and spongy - easy to knit - but it's got a bit of drape. Also, it's very slightly sheeny on matte because the silk doesn't dye the same way that the wool does.

When first I received it (last year), I was on the fence about my chosen colour: Barnacle. I mean, seriously, who names a yarn Barnacle? More to the point, who buys it?? It's more brown than grey - which is not what I anticipated and which wouldn't have been my preference. But I've grown to appreciate it for the way the silk brings out its sheen. It's very similar to the colour of shawl worn in the marketing photo.

What I could have done better: Well, I didn't swatch. Moreover, I went down a needle size from the recommended (given my propensity to knit loosely). In the final analysis, it's only good luck that I could block the finished garment to size (note the plethora of pins), stretched wet to slightly larger dimensions than those indicated in the pattern. (It's my way of accounting for probable retraction of the fabric as it dries.) Even at the recommended dimensions, I feel it's on the firm side (likely because, by going down a needle size, I made the fabric tighter than it would have been). I sense this shawl could use a tiny bit more drape, more openness, particularly at the cowl which is very shallow. I don't know that going up a needle size (or using a different yarn) would resolve this but I'll consider them when I make this again (and I may well).

The reason to swatch, I sometimes have to remind myself, isn't only to determine size, but to clarify that the properties of the fabric I've created (in that swatch) suit the purpose of the garment with which I intend to make it.

The finished shawl is very odd looking when not worn:

It's kind of like a beehive.

The pattern is excellently written - clear but with an abundance of detail to forestall concerns about potential misinterpretation. And, at 400 yards of fabric and minimal fitting required, this project doesn't drag on overly or tax one. Just one final reminder: You really do always have to focus when knitting lace. Also, you will inevitably fuck it up and then, your only recourse will be to understand how to take it apart vertically and put it back together. So there's a learning curve.

But I've never enjoyed a lacework project as much as this one (it was very elegantly sequenced) and the finished object is eminently wearable.

What do you think?