A Bug Story

Scott and M are in NYC for a few days over March break. While I cannot say that I'm in any way put out by this - work is crazy and I am exceedingly happy for the peace and quiet (aka not arguing with a 16 year old incessantly) - I did have a totally stressful experience about an hour ago. It involved yoga. And a centipede.

I cannot even type that word without feeling sick.

There I was, blithely considering what online class would suit my rather scattered post-work mood, and this horrifying, hairy bug just sidled up beside me. It wasn't even freaked out. Alas, when I observed it, not an inch away from me, I did freak out - and proceeded to spill the contents of my (mercifully, almost gone) Immune Booster (juice) shot all over my keyboard. Somehow the spa lifestyle has eluded me today, despite the many trappings.

As fast as I jumped, it ran out the sewga room door. And then I was trapped.

BTW, this isn't the first time this has happened. It is, however, the first time it's happened when my people are in a foreign country. You can imagine my dismay.

At any rate, I spent a few minutes considering my options. Staying in the yoga room for another 48 hours wasn't one of them. If nothing else I had soup on the stove. So I grabbed a shoe, shored myself up and peered behind the door. The fucker was gone.

Honestly, I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. The idea of killing it was almost as sickening as the bug itself. I mean, to kill it, I'd have to get within a foot of it. Or a shoe, anyway. But not finding it meant I couldn't be rid of it. Everything started feeling like a bug was crawling on me. And, of course, I didn't know how I'd ever enter the sewga room again (despite the fact that the bug disappeared outside the room).

But then I did something unheard of. Truly. I decided to listen to the voices in my head - those of everyone who's ever tried to talk me off a ledge when I see a bug, those which told me that it was truly gone - as gone as a bug can be i.e. into the walls - and that I'm 2000 times its size and that it's more scared of me than I can ever be of it. And then I opted to take back the room.

God help me, I did yoga. Sure, I wore my glasses (which made me feel incredibly nauseous by the end because I spent the entire time compulsively staring at the door). And I didn't do savasana in the sewga room. I mean, I'm not insane. Yes, I ran out the door, at the end, stealthily looking behind me, prepared for the worst. And I actually feel more terrible now than before I started.

But dammit, I'm not stuck in a room for the next 2 days. That's a metaphor for you. Or something.

What I'd Knit if I Weren't Stash-Busting

I suppose it would be more optimistic for me to have entitled this post "What I'll Knit When I'm Finished Stash-Busting" but it's hard to imagine getting through all of my stash yarn, even as I've completed more than 11 projects with stash yarn to date. (Note: I've actually completed 17 projects using stash yarn, in the last 5 months, but I didn't start my formal stash-using process until mid-January.)

I've got 4500 yards left to get through (over 23 projects). Increasingly, those projects are tiny Bluebirds of Happiness so the boredom factor goes up while the yardage factor goes down. In truth, I haven't made one of these yet so I can't confirm that they're boring. I sense I'll be in the mood for them when the fall comes around and I'm looking for a mini-gift. What's cuter than a little ornament?

I just discovered this great Ravelry feature, accessed from the bottom of the Projects page, wherein it shows you (graphically) how many yards of yarn you've used on all the projects you've cataloged. I neglected to weigh 4 of my finished projects so they don't count towards the totals but, in 81 projects (knitted over almost 5 years), I've used 36,390 metres or 39,797 yards. It's safe to say, including the 4 projects that weren't counted, I've knitted with 43,000 yards of yarn since I started back in 2011. Not negligible, huh?

It's for fun stats like this that you should keep tabs on EVERYTHING you do in Ravelry.

At any rate, as I'm not saintly, I spend much of my time considering what I'd knit if I could go out and buy any wool without restriction. What I have noticed is that now I'm a bit more strategic about this process than I would have been 3 months ago. These days, I'm looking at ways to purchase such that I can go through 2 full projects (one small, one large) with the same yarn - to diminish the likelihood that I'll have 100-200ish yard remnants to utilize. Cuz I'd rather plan to use a yarn I love twice - to make 2 projects that intrigue me equally - than to use it twice, one instance of which is a suboptimal, haphazard stash-bust.

Here are a few things that I'd like to knit right now:

• A new pair of socks using my standard Simple Sock pattern. It's amazing how much one desires socks when there are only non-matching remnants to work from. You may recall my staunch, anti-sock knitting stance from years ago. How times have changed...

• Then there's Sweet Jane by Amy Miller:

• I do love an asymmetric line that hides one's midsection while calling attention to one's legs and shoulders. This sucker eats yarn, if the pattern info is accurate (@1500 yards of sport-weight). I bet it would be awesome in Tosh Sport - but that would cost a fortune (like 200 bucks CDN).

• Can't say I'm not intrigued to make another Foolproof Cowl. But next time I'll make sure that I have adequate yardage of both colours to follow the Inspiration version of the pattern without deviating:

• That cream and navy colourway is dynamite. 

What do you wish you were knitting (even if you're happily knitting other things)?

Bust The Stash: Project 11 In Process - Foolproof Cowl

This is a stash-buster that I'm actually psyched about:

Foolproof by Louise Zass-Bangham

Originally, it was the topic of a Mystery KAL (knit along) published in April 2013. I can assure you that I have NO interest in mystery knitting of any sort. What could be more meh than spending a bunch of time and yarn making something, the end look of which you can have little to no idea about when you begin? Not my scene.

But now that the mystery KAL is long ago complete, the cowl pattern comes with pictures and the full list of clues all in one place. Now it's just a regular pattern that anyone can knit and it's INGENIOUS. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, if you want to figure out anything - if you want to save the world - put a bunch of top-notch knit designers in a room and lock the door. The veritable secrets of the universe are in every swatch of hand-knit fabric and these people know it. Like deeply.

As promised, in this project, there's no need for casting on, purling, knitting in the round or binding off. Just knit stitch, increases and decreases. How can that be? It's actually pretty straightforward once you discover how it works.

Of course, I have less yarn than I should to make the most of this iteration of the cowl. No mind. I'll make it again. This time I am using a tone-on-tone duo of Brooklyn Tweed Loft in Barn Owl and Woodsmoke colours. They actually look lovely together (if perhaps too similar to each other. I did, after all, confuse one colour for the other when I ordered yarn a second time). I have a lot of thoughts about BT yarn which I'll get into shortly. In short, it's enigmatic.

So, has anyone made the Foolproof cowl? Did you do the Mystery KAL? Have you ever done a mystery KAL? Did it work out or did you end up knitting something you consider hideous. I'd love to know.

Finished Object: Karner Wrap

Talk about a long time coming:

The Karner Wrap is, regrettably, not as long as I'd hoped it would be though I used 99g of the 100g ball. And it's not like I had an iota of impulse to keep going. That skein was ENDLESS, like, way more endless (and less enjoyable) than those mystery glasses of wine you sometimes get that seem never to diminish in volume despite continuous sipping.

It's an airy, cotton/bamboo blend. The colour is spectacular (graphite meets indigo). It'll be warm (but not wintery) through all seasons. I'm sure it will get comments just by virtue of its unique textile. But there is no way I will knit with Abrazos again. Dental floss. It ain't my thing.

Bust The Stash: There's More Than One Way to Get There

Right now I have 4900 yards remaining in my stash which, given that I started at 7500 yards (2 months ago) isn't bad. I actually think I might have neglected to add in about 1000 yards initially (because I bought extra yarn for the Decalage scarf and then ripped back the KNUS sweater), but even if I was accurate with my original count, 2600 yards is 2 and half sweaters worth of yarn. I'm making progress.

One of the larger yardages in my stash has been Quince and Co Tern (fingering-weight silk and wool blend) in the Barnacle colourway. I used some of it to knit this cowl shawl in the fall, on my way to my grandmother's funeral as it happens. Even if that experience did undercut my enjoyment of the wool, I never liked the colour. I thought it would be more grey, less green. I have been putting off using it, complaining about how it just doesn't excite me, whereupon one of my work friends suggested that I try to return it.

Um, I bought it, online from Quince, in October 2014. It did not occur to me that a return would be feasible. But the yarn was still in the hanks, with the labels, in perfect condition (having been well-stored). Furthermore, I love Quince yarn (though Tern isn't my fave) and I'd use a credit very easily. So I emailed them and they responded immediately advising that I could indeed send it back. Of course, Quince yarn is so affordable that the credit will be a mere $28.50 US (and I spent 10 bucks to return the yarn). But this means I can put it towards a more practical yarn purchase at some point in the future. The best thing of all is that I'm down 660 yards AND I don't have to knit with a yarn I'm never going to enjoy.

On the topic of stash-busting, I've been thinking a lot about Felicia's stash-less philosophy. One of her emerging perspectives is that, if you make a sweater (for example) that you will NEVER wear (sound like someone you know?), the most sustainable way to manage the issue is to rip it back and restash the yarn. My way, to date, has been to give the sweater away. Then I don't have to deconstruct something that's taken 100 plus hours to make and I get to be generous. But Felicia has a point. It's not the least wasteful methodology. It's also not the cheapest. Scott thinks that this argument is crazy. He likens it to tearing down your large house to make it smaller when you don't need as much space anymore.

On the flip side, it's boring to knit with the same yarn 3-plus times. Ask the yarn-end stash-buster how she knows. There's something to be said for variety - and what it teaches one. How would I know how yarn works if I only knit with the same fiber till I perfected, to my own mind, the end result. Did I mention that ripping that shit out is PAINFUL. Furthermore, way to increase the stash numbers endlessly! Am I really ruining the world by choosing not to unknit what I've made? I mean, if I want to be sustainable (and I do), should I not buy myself a sheep (even if it lives remotely) and make all of my yarn, from scratch?

I'm not being rhetorical here. I really don't know the answer. So I'm looking for feedback.

Do you often unknit the projects you've made to reuse the yarn? Does it totally stress you out? Do you routinely return unused hanks for credit (or do you get complacent and leave it in the stash)? Do you resent knitting 18 hats for puppies when you have miles of 40 yards ends to contend with. Am I overthinking this? Please, let's talk.

Wherein I Disclose that I Don't Like Podcasts

At home, in bed, still feeling like crap. Scott just came back from the doc with a script cuz he has bronchitis. I'm not getting bronchitis, btw. I am fighting and winning against aches and fever and sore throat. (Just putting it out there.) You know of my anxious feelings about illness but, have to say, when I can sidestep the hovering dread, there's much to be discovered on the internet.

I came across this series of podcasts on a new-to-me blog called Woolful. The site is gorgeous in that "ideal creative-town America" kind of way (you know Ashville, NC or any of the Portlands). All of the photos are crunchy-yarn delicious and perfectly simple.

Lord, podcasts are boring. Here's the thing - I've got a continual podcast running through my mind (it's called having a conversation with myself) and it's way more interesting than most of what any actual podcast has to say - even when I am sick. Furthermore, I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned this but, one of my less gracious qualities is that I cannot stand the timbre of some people's voices. OK, many people's voices. Anything nasal or flat is a no go. Vocal fry makes me homocidal. Women who reflexively speak in questions need to stop that shit. Men with effete voices drive me up a freakin' wall. I routinely turn off TV shows because I don't need the irritation. Look, I realize that everyone has a unique voice and it's not his or her job to make it pleasant to my ears, but the thing about radio is that they actually choose those people because they have (generally) good tone and they know how to carry on a conversation. Your average grass-roots podcast-talker? Not so much.

At any rate, listening does pass the time and it's free and if I don't appreciate it, I should just keep my mouth shut, I realize.

Point is that one of the podcasts alerted me to a blogger called Felicia who does this thing called The Craft Sessions and has also put together this awesome "stash awareness" series. I was already to get shirty with her for stealing my idea :-) and then I realized she started her own stash busting journey a year and a half ago. Wish I'd seen this sooner! There's nothing quite as delightful as discovering a great new knitting blog, one that's pedigreed with a deep archive of posts, except (perhaps) one that speaks your language. FWIW, Felicia's voice is in no way annoying. She has an adorable cadence.

In my bed-lazing travels, I also came across this hilarious video advertisement for StashBot:



It's an enjoyable, and possibly relatable, 4 minutes.

Bust the Stash: Finished Object 10 - Ribbed Hat 2 (And a Glimpse at the Karner Wrap, In Process)

Here's the latest Bust the Stash finished object - another Ribbed Hat:

In truth, though I have 4 more of these planned, I thought I'd have to throw myself off a bridge from boredom if I tried to make another right away. It's a fine little project but, really, I'm only making these hats to get rid of yarn ends. And they're too fussy in the crown decrease section to be an entirely enjoyable knit.

I was feeling trapped by the hats until the following thing occurred to me:

My fave part of knitting is, by far, the planning. The knitting is simply the execution of the vision, which is probably why I'm mainly a "monogamous knitter" (one who staunchly sticks to one project at a time). But, when you've actually done 25 project's worth of planning, and everything's there and cataloged (including the queue that reminds you of your knitting responsibilities to achieve the end goal), why not switch it up? It's not like I'm going to forget something. That yarn will still be there, assigned to that project. I feel this process has provided me with a bit of latitude to explore other planned projects that still need to be done.

Which is why I've returned to the Karner Wrap, my second-longest, in-process project (after the Knitted Boucle Jacket, recently discussed - and, as yet, uncompleted). I decided, since it's already on the freakin' needles, and it's not going to finish itself, that I might want to give it another go. It's simple stockinette (with ribbed edges) but the yarn makes it a mighty complicated knit.

Karner Wrap

I bought this yarn with Sara and Andrea in June of 2014. I cast on the included "beginner level" scarf pattern immediately, enthralled by the potential of the finished result. I had enthusiasm for the first couple of months, whereupon the endless, endless monotony of knitting with dental floss-weight conspired to turn this project into "train knitting". Note: I don't go on long train trips so often that 1000 yards of dental floss has yet been utilized.

Look, if the sample is anything to go by - or my progress to date - this project is going to be amazing when it's done. The yarn is irregularly slubbed, of different gauges. The colour is gorgeous. The bamboo / cotton fabric produced is truly textile art (and as wacky as textile art tends to be - but with more cool factor than it usually has). Plus, it'll be totally useful and wearable through all seasons.

But I don't recommend that you go out and knit this thing. It's a fucking commitment. I just returned to it with gusto and I can still only get through a couple of grams in a sitting (and maybe 6 grams a day over hours of concentrated knitting). The unused ball weighs 100g. Furthermore, the yarn is plied. Yeah, it's thinner than cooking string and it's freakin' plied. That means that ones sharp pointed needles (and you do need sharp to get through the loops) inevitably strike between the plies, semi-regularly, and you end up having to carefully unknit the stitch to avoid split yarn (which when your yarn is dental floss can result in a mere hair of yarn holding the stitch to the needle). Then there's the ease with which you can knit into the stitch below the one you're going for, which leaves what looks like a hole. Or the accidental knitting of 2 stitches next to each other (that lump together) - since the yarn is of many different thicknesses, it's impossible to tell what's going on at any given time. Of course, one can drop a stitch and not realize it for 20 rows because the texture of the yarn is such that the stitch holds itself in place, until it doesn't.

My point is that any beginner would lose her mind knitting this and even an intermediate or advanced knitter can't take it on with any facility because the yarn has special needs.

I don't know that the means will justify the ends, but I'll keep you posted. And I am seriously considering going back to finish that Boucle Jacket next. I know I say this occasionally, but I cannot believe that I have 80 per cent of a gorgeous wool jacket just sitting there ready to be hand seamed and machine "buttonholed".

The joy of not buying new yarn is that you really get to experience the yarn you already have. And let's face it, all of that yarn was new at some point.

Anyone made the Karner Wrap? Would you ever make it again? Do you like the fabric produced by Abrazos? Let's talk!