A Bluestocking Knits

Kid Mohair Wrap Post-Mortem

Well, this wanted to be a pretty lace wrap, but -- alas.

It is the Kid Mohair Wrap from Susan Cropper's Pretty Knits: 30 Designs from Loop in London of 2007, reprinted in Canadian Living a year or so ago (there's no date!).  I was a little surprised to find almost no mention of this around the blogosphere, thinking that surely I could not be the only one seduced by the photograph.  I wonder now if knitters just gave up.

As I mentioned before, there are a few errors in the border pattern, not earth-shattering ones, but enough to be worth fixing.

This is a fairly-standard lace edging, found in Martha Waterman's Traditional Knitted Lace Shawls, among others I'm sure, and there called "Ocean Waves".  Here it is written worked in opposite directions on the right and left edges, so that they are mirror images.  The right-side edge has a three-stitch "wave" that swirls upwards towards the left, while as written here in the Kid Mohair Wrap the left-side edge has a two-stitch swirl.  It is not entirely noticeable at this lacy gauge, which is one of the reasons (the other being Kidsilk Haze's resistance to being picked out and re-knitted) that I simply left it there and went on.  The decrease used in the pattern is a left-slanting sl1-K1-psso, but it should be a right-slanting K2tog.  I worked the second repeat this way, and to my eye it looks much better, certainly a mirror image of the right-side border.  After working the second repeat, I realized that the one triple-decrease on the left-side border should be changed as well, from a sl1-K2tog-psso to a K3tog -- you can see the second repeat's sl1-K2tog-psso at the top of the first "swirl", just to the left of the last yarn-over hole, where the triple decrease is leaning the wrong way.  I worked a K3tog instead on the third repeat, along with the line of K2togs, and it looks much tidier.

So my recommendations: In Row 3, change the second sl1-K2tog-psso to K3tog, AND in Rows 5, 7, 9, and 11, change the second "skpo" (i.e. sl1-K1-psso) to a K2tog.  This will also need to be changed in the crossed-eyelet section, thus: In Row 31, change the second sl1-K2tog-psso to K3tog, AND in Rows 33, 35, 37, and 39, change the second "skpo" (i.e. sl1-K1-psso) to a K2tog.  There is another typo in Row 35: after the second "slip marker", K2 should be K3.

There also should be an asterisk in Row 39, after the first "slip marker", but this is only a slight hiccup.

The scarf version apparently simply continues a narrower version of the knot-stitch section all the way up, omitting the crossed-eyelet section -- but a commenter on the Canadian Living version of the pattern notes that Row 28 in the scarf version says to repeat Row 14, ie. Row 4 of the knot-stich pattern, but that this should be Row 2, not Row 4.

But the biggest problem for me is that two balls of Kidsilk Haze is not enough by some way to complete a 30x60-inch wrap.  I pin-blocked what I had worked so far to a 30-inch/76cm width, which to me looked far too stretched, so I repinned it to what looked good, which was 28 inches (71 cm) wide -- although certainly this was not proper blocking, and the results may have been different, but I suspect not much.  The result was a 28x22-inch piece, which of course with only one more ball of Kidsilk Haze would not have made a wrap that measured 60 inches by any means.

So, well -- it's pretty, but the yarn is now well on its way to becoming nona's Tie One On after all ...

Works-in-Progress

This is the sand-dune-y landscape of a Burberry-Inspired Cowl, which unfortunately got stalled when I cut the ends of wool just too short to graft together, so that I am now resigning myself to ripping out the last balls' worth in order not to have to splice in yet another length.  The good news is that the whole thing took only a few hours to knit, so once I get up the nerve to pull the needles out, it shouldn't take long to actually finish.

Another work-in-progress is the Brahms German Requiem, which we started rehearsing the week before last.  How very lucky I was to be able to sing this in high school -- how lucky I still am, to be a part of it again.

This is a lovely version, a yummy Romantic tempo, and the parts are beautifully balanced.  It's interesting, the different perspectives you get, from the chorus or from the audience; I have to not look at the video at times, as it can be distracting, although educational.  That is some serious stink-eye Nikolaus Harnoncourt gives even before he lifts up his hands!  Rather consoling, in a way, to see that even the Vienna State Opera Choir has trouble with getting their eyes off of their music.

I'm currently reading a "medieval noir" that I found on the new-book shelf at the library the other day.  I think I've got spoiled by Ellis Peters, as I find this one more than a little anachronistic in vocabulary -- "décolletage" for example, a late-Victorian word at the earliest, or even more jarring, "gifted" (in the sense of having presented something as a gift), at the same time that the characters say things like "'How fares your good wife?'" and "'Is that the weapon that committed this most foul deed?'".  There certainly can be a good argument for writing a historical novel in the modern vernacular, since at the time period of said historical novel, the way that people commonly talked was in fact "modern" -- compare, for example, the 1920s Charles Archer translation of Kristin Lavransdatter with the 1990s one by Tiina Nunnally.  And there can be an argument that people in the Middle Ages talked more like the Wife of Bath than like Brother Cadfael, too, I suppose.  Still, there it is.

I went to the library, in fact, for the omnibus Mapp and Lucia volume, thinking that I wanted something terribly, terribly English and 1930s. Have not read any of them before.

I'm also reading one of D.E. Stevenson's "lost" novels again, Emily Dennistoun, the current book of the Stevenson discussion list at Yahoo.  The more I think about it, the more I think this was not only an early work of Stevenson's, but a very early work, and one that she may have not bothered to dig out of the drawer because the things she wrote later were so very much better.  Anyway, here is my choice of something late-1920s for my virtual Stevenson "knitalong" --

I think that Emily Dennistoun would be rather shocked to think that her underwear might be discussed in public, but it is not at all unlikely that she would have actually knitted such things herself.  I was surprised at first to see the number of patterns for "vests and shorts" out there -- this is one of dozens from The Vintage Knitting Lady.  I had not in fact given much thought to knitted underthings, but upon reflection suspect that in Scotland at least, where this novel is set, one might want such things more often than not.

As for "real" knitting, I did start the Kid Mohair Wrap the other day.  Found a number of mistakes in the pattern right off, but once that settled down it has gone very quickly, so quickly that I am rapidly nearing the end of the first ball of Kidsilk Haze and at the same time am becoming increasingly alarmed that I will not finish nine repeats of the crossed-eyelet section, as the pattern assures me I can do, before I get there.

Well, we shall see!

Mish-Mash

Every so often we have mish-mash for dinner, when the refrigerator is full of single servings left over from the week's meals.  Tonight, Laura had the last slice of pizza, Julia had Swedish meatballs, and David and I had the remnants of my first promenade through My French Kitchen by Joanne Harris and Fran Warde -- lentil and sausage casserole and garlic soup, respectively.  This is a lovely, evocative book that set my mouth watering as soon as I saw it.  The lentil dish is pleasant and earthy (much depends on the sausages, I suspect), and the garlic soup very tasty.  I didn't much care for the Poule au Pot, but then I've made various versions of this and never found it to speak to me much, so I can't fault Harris'.  Her Boeuf en Daube, redolent of bay and thyme and olives and an entire bottle of white wine, was heavenly!

So, then, this post will be a mish-mash too, since life has been increasingly hectic chez Bluestocking these days, and little that I have to say would stretch to a full post on its own.

I made an Odessa the other day for my aunt, whose cancer is returning.  Cashsoft DK again, so wonderfully soft and comforting -- this color is 525 Kingfisher, and worth seeking out, a lovely tealy greeny-blue.

I could not resist the lure of the laceweight -- the ball is one skein of Skacel Merino Lace, in 339 Pale Grey, luminous and pearl-like -- I'm thinking something Shetlandish.

A cup from Annie Modesitt's clever Fiesta Tea Set, in some ancient Tahki Cotton Classic that I dug up from one of the deeper drawers in my closet.  Am not sure yet if I'm going to make the rest of the set in the same color (wh. is all I have), or find some peppier shades, or just enjoy this piece on its own.

I put up a photo album in the sidebar of some of my dad's model trains, the ones I have.  Trains were such an intrinsic part of his life that I feel absurdly grateful to have these.

My Daisy troop is up to fifteen.  Fifteen kindergarten girls in one room!  Need I say more?

I've been watching a lot of movies lately, curiously enough all Norwegian ones, hard to knit to since I need to read the subtitles, my Norwegian stretching mostly to exclamations -- "Gud!"  "Nå da?"  "Fy!"-- and words that I probably shouldn't know.  Anyway, first was "Insomnia", a bleak and gritty crime thriller from a few years back, in which a detective in the far north accidentally shoots his partner during a murder investigation, and finds himself increasingly mired in guilt and the insomnia of the title as he tries to cover up what really happened.  "Hamsun" is the story of  Norwegian Nobel Laureate novelist Knut Hamsun's involvement with Hitler's occupying forces during World War II, and of Hamsun's turbulent relationship with his wife, a fervent Nazi supporter.  It's a ghastly, riveting film -- like watching a car crash that one is powerless to stop -- with Hamsun played with arresting dignity by Max von Sydow. 

"Kitchen Stories (Salmer fra Kjøkkenet)" is the lightest of the bunch so far -- and by far -- and one that I can recommend without hesitation for those who like quirky, subtle, character-driven comedy.  The premise is that Swedish researchers in the postwar craze for scientific research and efficiency are sending a team of observers to study Norwegian bachelor farmers' kitchen habits -- resulting in the quietly absurd set-up in the photo.  One of these objects of study has had a change of heart and resents the intrusion stubbornly, but through a series of small events he and his ostensibly objective observer become unlikely friends.  The ending is bittersweet but entirely believable and satisfying.

Little-known Fact #133: All Norwegian movies feature Sverre Anker Ousdal in some role, large or small.

(Not that I'm complaining, mind.  Fellow polar geeks will recognize him from "The Flight of the Eagle", the lyrical and harrowing film based on the Swedish attempt in 1897 to reach the North Pole by balloon, and

as Roald Amundsen in 1985's "The Last Place on Earth".  The sight of Amundsen and his men skiing towards the South Pole is as stirring a thing I've seen in many a year.)

I read the last of the Aubrey/Maturin series while David was in Hong Kong.  I'd been reading them slowly, trying to spin out the last few as long as I could, but then one night after finishing The Hundred Days, I picked up Blue at the Mizzen as if there were no covers between the two, just another chapter break.  It was like running down a hill -- I ran through it in delight, unable to stop myself and not caring a whit, and was surprised when I turned over the last page with something like utter joy and came to the end, not without a bit of a thud at my sudden return to reality.  So, that's that, and I guess -- unless somebody stands me 21 for my birthday -- I'll start over again from the beginning.

I've just finished reading the fourth in the Brother Cadfael series, St. Peter's Fair, retrieved deep from the basement storage area of our local public library.  It's interesting, reading the books hard on the heels of one another, instead of a year or two apart as I did when they were published -- I begin to get a sense of Peters' developing style and feeling for the characters. I had quite forgotten after so long that Hugh Beringar in his first appearance -- in the second book -- was in fact an opponent, not an ally of Cadfael's.  Almost makes me want to see the television series again, but not quite.  Only for Sean Pertwee,

for whom I almost seriously considered starting a write-in-campaign-of-one to Peter Jackson, as I had long pictured Sean Pertwee in my admittedly fertile imagination as Faramir, one of my favorite characters in "The Lord of the Rings" cycle.  Not too much of a stretch, though, I think!  (I would rather, too -- not that I've anything against Viggo Mortensen -- have seen Sean Bean as Aragorn, as he was much more my idea of the character -- but that's another story, for another time.)

Thoughts on the Ostrich Plume Lace Throw

Ta-da!

This is my slightly-modified version of E.J. Slayton's Ostrich Plume Lace Throw from Vogue Knitting Baby Blankets (one of the On the Go! series), knitted in ten balls (ten!) of Rowan Calmer, started a great long time ago, I'm afraid, but finished at last and gracing my sofa already.

I had intended to make a much larger throw, but if you've read the saga you will know that I was nearly heartily sick of the thing; perhaps time heals all, as I'm very happy with it now that it's done!  It is about 40 x 37 inches (say 101 x 94 cm) give or take, as it is quite stretchy from both the lace and the springiness of the Calmer, and it has not been blocked.  Now that I look at the photos closely, I wonder if I should have worked it on a size larger needles, but on the other hand the stretchiness might solve that for me.

I didn't like the fact that the top edge of the lace didn't match the bottom edge, due to the fact that that while the bottom starts off with the pattern row, the top finishes with the "plain" Row 2 and a decrease row (which is added to help the top scallop the same way the bottom does).

Instead of the dec row, I worked the patt row (Row 1) but did not put the yo in the small cable-like sections -- this brought the stitch count down to where it would have been after the dec row -- and then I worked the 8 rows of garter st.  If I'd been willing to rip out the top border a third time, I would have slipped in a K2tog at each of those spots in the first garter row, as it still doesn't scallop quite as much as I'd like.  But the eyelets in the plume section are closer to the garter border now, and the passed-over bar across the cable-like section also match the bottom edge more closely.

That said, I love this lace pattern -- it really speaks to me, for some reason.  Mostly the plume-like bits, I think.  I worked 11 repeats instead of the 9 in the original number of sts, and carried on until I'd more-or-less run out of yarn at the end of the tenth ball.  (I might have gotten another repeat out of the last ball if I'd been willing to gamble!)

This color of Calmer is "Chiffon" -- alas, discontinued. 

Now I need only some cooler weather -- already have plenty of good books waiting!

Hot Enough For You?

Remember this?

Ah, well, it's been a long time.  I'd forgotten about it, too, until I tripped over the bag the other day, on my way to open up yet another window to try and get some cool air into the house, and saw that the thing was actually not too far from a good stopping place.  It's really too hot to knit much just now, but I was so close that I sat this afternoon with a fan blowing on my hands to finish the last few inches.  Proper photos and a wrap-up to come.

In Nature News, we've got a pair of sharp-shinned hawks living in our big pine tree in the backyard.  They are both juveniles, my cousin-the-zoo-vet tells me, so their colors will change as they mature.  Nest-mates, I'm guessing, since they are both juveniles and about the same size.  Very chatty, too, like teenagers, "kew-kew" all morning and afternoon.

There are still a few open areas in our town, but we are, to be honest, deep in suburbia, which makes the hawks all the more fascinating.

So I think I'm going to read for a while, instead of knitting.  It was 80° F (26 C) when we lugged our dinner outside at 6:30 -- just not knitting weather.  I don't know what made me think of it -- perhaps putting Ellis Peters on my mental list of authors I'd like one more book from -- but I've gotten it into my head to read all of her wonderful Brother Cadfael mysteries again.  And the "Blackadder" font I found a while back was too good to pass up, so here's a button, just for fun --

Thoughts on the Spider's-web Fichu

In our post-Christmas gift card shopping spree, I bought myself Jane Sowerby's Victorian Lace Today (click on the "thumb-through" for sample pages, or go and browse Grumperina's paean to the book here for even more photos).  It's a lovely book, perfectly suited to the knitter's coffee table, filled as it is with gorgeous photos of lace shawls and stoles, and a nice dash of history.  My eye was caught by a number of things -- not even including the Cambridge locations -- but a few days later I started on the Spider's-web Fichu, mostly because I conveniently had the yarn waiting in a drawer, namely,

Jaeger Alpaca 4-Ply in shade 393 Damson.  (Not 395 as in the book, apparently a misprint, but perhaps it will not be much of a problem as it seems that Jaeger has discontinued this line entirely).  The fichu is a fairly easy knit, although it took me a few rows to settle in with the chart.  The triangle is in fact one repeat, worked x times depending on whether you are making the half-hexagon (3 repeats) or the full version (6 times), the pink squares being the single line of st st that runs upwards between the triangles.  Thus, here --

is one full repeat of the chart on the right needle, with the garter st edge border, which is not included in the chart.  Once you see how it grows, very organically from the previous rows, it is quite simple.

The crochet cast-on for the border as given in the instructions leaves the working yarn at the left side, without mentioning a set-up row to bring it back into place for starting Chart D, and so I used a regular lace cast-on instead, attaching it to the edge of the shawl on the next (WS) row.

You do have to start the border at the opposite corner to where you finished (wh. is not mentioned in the pattern), otherwise the RS will be facing the back.  This may not matter terribly much on a garter-based border, really, but somehow I just couldn't bring myself to work it that way.  (Be sure to visit the corrections page at XRX for errata and clarifications.)

It seems to make a rather larger shape than a half-hexagon, coming off of the needles in what is actually three-quarters of a square, each repeat of Chart A being an equilateral triangle.  I couldn't get it to block as an actual half-hexagon without making it much larger than the specified measurements -- either the garter stitch edge was straight and the triangles waved a bit, or the triangles were smooth but the border curved.  This is nice, though, as the finished piece sits on the shoulders much more easily.

And some details of the finished fichu --

A satisfying knit, with very pretty results.  Laura is utterly charmed with it, too!

Thoughts on the February Baby Sweater

Thanks to a few well-scheduled TV programs, I finished the knitting for the Baby Sweater on Saturday -- watched "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" that night, and a few days earlier an episode of "Secrets of the Dead" called "Titanic's Ghosts".  Despite the lurid title and opening sequences, this was actually a serious documentary about using DNA testing to identify survivors of the Titanic disaster.  I've always been fascinated by archaeology, which manages to be both romantic and scientific at the same time -- recreating past lives, researching history, and using analytical techniques to gather and record information.  This one was fascinating for its use of genealogical research techniques to identify and locate surviving relatives, the still-amazing way that DNA evidence can be used to identify blood relationships between the living and the long-dead, and the photographs and personal stories that made us identify sometimes nearly unbearably closely with the people on the Titanic  and their families.  (Imagine having one seat on a lifeboat available, and looking at your five children there on the deck.)

Anyway, this was an easy-peasy knit.  I used less than two and a half balls of the Merinogold, so it takes almost as little wool as it does time.

I also loved that the Gull pattern fit perfectly into the shaping that Elizabeth devised, with the repeats ending just at the places where you divide for the sleeves (and adding on 7 fits another repeat in just as perfectly).  I actually added eight stitches, instead of seven, on the sleeves, because the lace pattern made a rather wonky edge and I wanted to firm that up to make seaming easier; I just knitted the first and last stitch of every row.

The sleeve shaping gave me a bit of pause, and I had to think about it for some minutes until it made sense.  It is essentially a T, with the crossbar to be seamed along the underarm and the downward stroke becoming the sleeve seam.  This is how it goes together --

That extra K stitch on each side of the sleeve seam came in very handy, as the seam turned out almost invisible.  I am, I confess, rather lazy when it comes to finishing (Reason #47 to Love Shawls: There are no seams), so I faithfully followed a little tutorial on seaming by Theresa Stenersen -- good practice for the Swing Jacket coming up.

These white pearly buttons were the only shanked ones I had in the button jar, so they are merely prodded into place for the photo.  Obviously I am starting to get into swing-jacket mode -- I thought this jacket would look as pretty with three buttons as with the six of the original, and it does.

"Result: a beguiling baby sweater with only two seams to sew"!

Kinky

I got tired of seeing this unfinished project in the drawer, so I ripped it out this morning, and tied the wool back into skeins.

I must say, I get a bit of a kick seeing how kinky wool gets when it is knitted.  After washing, it was a sorry sight, though --

especially since it once was this --

Classic Elite Inca alpaca.  The color is apparently long-since discontinued, since I've had it around for I don't know how long.  (Cough--twenty years--cough.)  Very nice stuff, so soft, in a rich purple that the digital camera cannot seem to capture.  Here is the first repeat of the Beginner's Triangle from "A Gathering of Lace".

One of the things I like about blogging is that my resolve to finish things is much stronger.  Who wants to show off a bunch of half-started projects?!

August Knitogether

Marjorie invited me to her home and the August get-together with Siow Chin, Joy, and Eva, with Vivian and her sister.  I got to pore over a huge stash of new magazines and books (this one, too) as well as knit and admire everyone else's projects.  (Got to get me some of that Knitpicks Alpaca Cloud ....)  Thank you all -- mm-goi saai!

It had stopped raining when I got home, and was a surprisingly quiet afternoon, grey and still.  Julia had actually gone to bed for a nap on her own, and Laura was watching cartoons with the babysitter, so I made myself a cup of tea and read for a while.

Well -- I've recently joined two knit-alongs, one with a finite completetion date, so I'd better get cracking,

and the other, blissfully open-ended,

I have at least one, possibly two, baby projects in the planning stages -- am thinking of a certain wrap-style jacket from an old Knitter's magazine.  I have some Rowan cotton in a pretty girly purple from a completely stalled Debbie Bliss project (which would be better in a yarn that actually worked up to the right gauge, eh?), so I'll start swatching when we get home.

In Which I Resolve to Try Again

With the completion of "Truly Tasha" and the indefinite stalling of the Noro kimono jacket, my only work-in-progress is the Ostrich Plume blanket. 

I have started over completely, making it smaller, determining to make whatever size square I can with the twenty balls of Calmer 462 that I have.  This color is now discontinued -- a shame, because it's very pretty, a lovely pastel lavender -- but in a way, it's something of a release, because now I can't simply buy more until I knit a large enough blanket.

The Calmer is really extraordinary to work with.  The 25% microfiber and the unusual construction of the yarn give it a strange and wonderful spongy elasticity.  It is described as an 8-ply, but this is a rather liberal way of putting it, as it is actually two braided strands twisted together, thus --

(As I knit, it feels like water running through my fingers, as if I were holding my hand under a little fall in a stream and feeling the gentle push on my skin.  I can see how it might inspire one to poetry.)  This doesn't really transfer to the knitted piece as much as one might hope, but the effect is still much softer than ordinary cotton, and it has a beautiful springiness.

The book is "The Tribes of Britain" by David Miles, which I picked up impulsively at the Kelly & Walsh in Exchange Square the other day.  I was interested anyway -- archaeology + Britain = yes -- but the author won me over on the first page of the introduction with a quote from, of all things in a scholarly-sounding tome, "Monty Python and the Holy Grail".  The book examines the genetic archaeology of Britain, the way that migrations, invasions, and other upheavals have influenced the make-up of the British people.  (Read the Sunday Times review here.)  The book's weightiness is offset by a deft writing style, the heavier bits of science lightened by humor and the occasional distraction -- "In the nineteenth century burnt layers in towns such as London or Colchester were routinely ascribed to Boudicca's [first-century AD] rebellion as if no one else ever lit a fire" (29), for instance, and the way that archaeological discoveries often remind him of modern things, a neat way of pointing out the relevance to us of history.  The Times reviewer's criticism about the lack of cultural history is valid, but for me not as much of a sticking point as he seems to imply.  To say that "who are we?" is an unanswerable question and then complain that Miles doesn't answer it completely is a bit unfair.  Miles' focus is demographic and archeological, not cultural, and the "who are we?" question is asked in that light.  Wars, plagues, and invasions are much more efficient at changing the genetics of a people than are thinkers and philosophers.  What Miles does here is not only to instruct and inform -- as well as entertain -- but ultimately remind us, as we so often need reminding these days, that we really are all related, we are all brothers and sisters under the skin.