A Bluestocking Knits

In Praise of "Golden Hands"

Moth Heaven Julia asked about the "Golden Hands" books that I mentioned in a comment on her post of January 2nd, when she wrote about the Time-Life Art of Sewing books she was given for Christmas.  I don't think I could do this series justice without at least a few pictures, so I thought I'd write a post about it.

"Golden Hands" was a serial published by Marshall Cavendish in the early 1970s, not technically a book but a series of magazines, essentially, that you would buy as they came out.  (My mom got hers at the grocery store.  You could send away for binders to keep the issues in order -- "$1.75 plus 25¢ shipping and handling" -- and the index.)  It was kind of like a home-study thing, a little "chapter" of two to four pages per issue on knitting, crochet, embroidery, needlepoint, dressmaking, beading, patchwork, tatting, and so on, and finishing and care techniques for the resulting projects.  If you were a complete beginner, you could start at the "Knitting Know-How 1" chapter, for instance, which gives basics on yarn types, gauge, and abbreviations, then goes on to casting on and off, the knit stitch and the purl, with increasingly advanced techniques throughout the 74 chapters.  I more-or-less taught myself to knit from here, studying the pictures and going for help to my mom when things didn't go right.  If you already knew the basics, you could start at a later chapter for new techniques, or jump straight into a more difficult project.  Rae Compton was the knitting consultant for the series, and while I don't recognize any of the names in other areas, I expect they were all equally competent and qualified, judging by the thoroughness of the instructions.

Many of the projects are more than a bit dated now, of course -- macramé vests, ponchos the first time around -- but the lace doilies, Shetland shawls, floral needlepoint handbags (with a chapter on mounting the needlepoint piece on a metal bag frame), ganseys, and such, are as timeless as they were in the 1970s.  Some of the knitting techniques are a bit dated, too -- psso instead of the now more usual ssk, for instance -- but nothing that would really hold you back.

After the series was completed, they did one that went into more unusual crafts, like candle-making, millinery, costume-making, batik, some really interesting stuff, and then a monthly that as far as I know only went to two issues.  They also did a few paperback pattern collections, with new patterns, "All You Can Knit and Crochet For Women/Babies and Children/the Home," and so on. 

I started with the garter stitch scarf, and not much later (in my early teens, perhaps) made a lovely doll dress and coat, and eventually at least three different baby blankets.  There was also a stunning bridal coat that I considered years later, and would have been high on my list if I'd been married in cooler weather than a California June.  In fact, I'm seeing quite a lot of things here that intrigue me now!....

Halfway

Every time that David goes on one of these business trips, I feel an increasing respect for single parents.  It is not something that I would like to attempt on a regular basis.  We are now halfway through this trip, and it's been hectic, to say the least.  A sampling --

-- Potty training.  Still.  Enough said.

-- When the milkman brought our delivery at the beginning of the week, three of the six cartons had a bottom corner bashed in.  I didn't have enough large containers to decant it, so our milk is in various Tupperware boxes in the fridge.  I kept getting distracted from hosing off the porch ("Mommy!!"), so I'm afraid the puddle is still there, bar a watering-can rinse when I actually did remember to water the houseplants yesterday.

-- The phone has been ringing off the hook with special-election recordings, including one from The Big Guy himself.  Thank heavens it's over now.

-- I spent probably the most panicked fifteen minutes of my life at Laura's school the other day, when I turned around in the crush outside the kindergarten classrooms after school and Julia was gone.  I looked in the most obvious places, then the not-so-obvious ones, then the mom I'd been talking with (about sex offenders, unfortunately) started looking with me, in ever-larger circles around the spot I'd last seen Julia, and fifteen minutes later had at least three other moms, two teachers, and a veritable army of kids looking.  By that time, of course, the worst possible things were going through my mind.  I don't usually panic easily, but this was awfully close -- so many people were milling about, anyone could have snatched her and been a mile away already.  The utter relief I felt when I saw Laura's teacher coming up the sidewalk with Julia howling in her arms was indescribable.  (She'd just wandered off on her own, apparently, all of the way to the corner.  Didn't want to tell me what she'd done, so I think she knew she'd worried us.)

-- Laura then came down with some kind of bug, up half the night coughing, then throwing up the next day, possibly from coughing so hard.  She lay on the couch literally all day, grey shadows under her eyes, watching "Barney" and "Sesame Street" listlessly.

-- The house is a mess.  It seems like the more housework I do, the more there is to do, which goes against all the laws of physics I've ever heard of.

But knitting, that's what I was supposed to be talking about.  The only good thing about Laura being sick is that since she wants me to sit with her most of the time, I'm getting an unexpected amount of knitting done.  I am working on a Christmas project, so won't reveal details, except that I am learning something new with it, Meg Swansen's "jogless jog" solution to the problem of that little hiccup at color changes in the round (here's a step-by-step description from Judy Gibson).  This is a handy little trick, almost like magic.  The first few times I tried it looked more than a little obvious, but it is settling in nicely.  It seems to be inspired by the slip-stitch effect, which raises and stretches a single stitch to cover two rows, but here in the jogless jog does essentially the same thing without appearing to do so.  The new color becomes the old color, and the old stitch disguises the new one.  Ta-da!

Saturday Stuff

Some miscellaneous thoughts this evening --

I've never actually knitted with the jewelry kind of stitch markers before this -- always admired the variety and beauty of ones I've seen on other people's blogs -- but find myself a little bit vexed by the maneuvers I have to go through to work with these.  A marker between two RS knit stitches isn't a problem -- it's when the marker is hanging on the other side of the work, and you must move the yarn to the front, slip the marker, and put the yarn back, or between a knit/purl or purl/knit sequence and you must move the marker either before or after you move the yarn for the different stitch, and it makes a difference, depending on which is first in the combination.  Otherwise, Belle ends up with the yarn strapped around her waist, thus --

But it's a niggly annoyance, and not yet enough to make me take out the markers altogether!

Well, tomorrow is my choir's concert, so I can at last get Honegger's "King David" out of my head.  A strange, clashing, cacophanous piece, and hard to sing.  If I liked it, the difficulty in singing it wouldn't be a problem, but unfortunately the parts I do like are few and far between the parts I don't.  I am certainly looking forward to starting on Vivaldi's "Gloria" on Monday for the Christmas concert!  (I adore Vivaldi.  Some people complain about his repetitiveness -- I can't remember at the moment who quipped that Vivaldi "wrote the same concerto 500 times" -- but it doesn't bother me.  I find his music, even the often-melancholy cello concertos, to be wonderfully soul-refreshing, and it is rare that my spirits are not lifted by a lute concerto.  The "repetitiveness" I see as a friendly familiarity, a recognizability, like so much of Mozart, or even Dickens or Jane Austen.)

The girls and I watched our new "Cinderella" DVD last night, while I knitted.  They were frightened by the stepmother -- that gloomy hallway, with her wicked eyes glowing in the shadows of the bedcurtains -- and they laughed out loud at the clever mice outwitting that mean old cat.  Laura's face as she watched Cinderella's transformation from servant girl to princess was as beautiful and moving as the moment.

By the way; there is an interesting article at Mouse Planet (where this image is from) about the story, its various versions and what Walt Disney took from each, and lessons to be learned from the story.

Deconstructing the Centered Eyelet

Have been humming along with Amy Detjen's Beginner's Triangle shawl, featuring the Centered Eyelet.  This is an interesting technique, and prompted me to take a closer look at it.  Frankly, I am amazed at the kind of mind that would come up with something that includes "k second st but do not remove from LH needle".  I say this with the utmost admiration, as it would certainly never occur to me to do anything of the sort, being a fairly unadventurous knitter technique-wise!

Here is the problem --

that eyelets, worked either as k2tog, yo (bottom row) or as yo, ssk (middle row), are asymmetrical, leaning either to one side or the other.  This could be partly avoided with working the eyelets as ssk, yo (top row), but even though this disguises the slant somewhat, it is still obvious that there is a decrease on one side and none on the other.

Of course, this slant or running stitch can be used decoratively, as in this little digression, in which the slant appears to travel upwards in a nice little s-curve --

But Detjen wanted to have rows of eyelets that crossed one another in a diamond-shaped pattern, and here the lack of symmetry bothered her.

Notice the rather lackadaisical point where the X crosses (I used yo, ssk).  That single eyelet is certainly in the middle, but it is not centered, as the decrease makes the running sts, especially the ones traveling from lower right on each X to upper left, look bulky.  It would probably have been better to work a different decrease, as at least that side of the X would have a perfect line of running sts from bottom to top, but it would still not have been symmetrical.

Here is Detjen's solution, the centered eyelet:

   

(Worked over 3 sts; 3 sts remain.)  Sl first st knitwise, k second st but do not remove from LH needle, psso, yo, k2tog (3rd and 2nd sts).  On the next row (WS), k into st below each yo of the centered eyelet.  The garter st version on the left is as in the Beginner's Triangle; the st st version, on the right, is for clarity.  (Note that in the stockinette version, I had to tweak the sts afterwards with the point of a needle, as they didn't sit quite right.  The one on the left is untweaked, to show how it looks at first.)

Here are the steps for the centered eyelet (garter st version), partially broken down:

"Sl first st knitwise, k second st but do not remove from LH needle..."

"psso..."

"yo..."

"k2tog (3rd and 2nd sts)...."

On the WS row, at the yo of the centered eyelet, "K into st 1 row below...."

Detjen says that she based the centered eyelet on Robert Powell's 3-into-2 decrease, which is identical to the centered eyelet but without the yo in the middle (and so without the "k into st below" in the second row as well).

Here is the beta version, if you will, of the centered eyelet:

Notice the horizontal bar across the eyelet.  (Interestingly, the bar is in the middle of the eyelet in the garter st version, and across the top of it in st st.)  On the next (WS) row, knitting into the st below the yo (and of course including the yo, which gave me pause for a moment) solves this problem, by simply pulling the bar up out of the way. On the st st version, you would purl into the stitch below.

Two Xs worked with the centered eyelet, one in garter and one in st st, nice and tidy:

It might be interesting to try this in an all-over eyelet pattern....

And as a bonus, we can now do the 3-into-2 decrease!

July Knitogether

The girls and I went to Central yesterday to meet with Siow Chin and Marjorie at the Pacific Coffee Company branch in the IFC mall (look at the views from the top).  We were a few minutes late, as I wanted to stop off for a little prezzie -- picked up something from the See's shop that recently opened nearby, always a treat in my family for holidays or something special, and here "flown fresh from California".

To be honest, I didn't get to knit much, as Julia was extremely energetic and couldn't sit still, not even to eat her lunch.  Laura, however --

focussed marvellously.  Some six months ago, she said out of the blue, "I want to learn to knit!"  I tried not to show how excited and pleased I was, and later we went to Michael's and bought some yellow yarn and "trainer" knitting needles.  I cast on and worked a row for her, and she would knit two or three stitches and get bored, and not pick it up for weeks.  But the other day, she suddenly mentioned it again for the first time since January, I think, and stuck with it for a whole row, 20 stitches.  She seems to have gotten the hang of it, although of course still has a five-year-old's attention span.  She was also secretly pleased at the idea of knitting with my friends, so asked for her knitting soon after lunch yesterday.

Marjorie brought her pale yellow Phildar pattern project, learning the jogless jog -- Siow Chin had her Angel sleeve in that lovely rose-colored Rowan Cotton Wool -- I managed to do one whole row on my Forbes Forest scarf, while trying to keep Julia from climbing on the other tables.  We chatted about Hong Kong yarn shops, small children, work (Siow Chin's husband and mine might actually know of each other already).  It turns out that Marjorie lived in Alhambra for a while -- my grandparents lived there for almost fifty years, and I did myself for a while.  Small world, eh?

But the girls reached their limit after about an hour, so we said goodbye.  We took the opportunity of our being in a mall to go to Dymocks for a birthday-present-to-be and the new Harry Potter book for David, then caught the bus for home and an afternoon in the swimming pool.

Mm goi, Siow Chin and Marjorie!

Fifth Day of the Fifth Lunar Month

Today being the fifth day of the fifth lunar month, it is the Dragon Boat Festival.  Tuen Ng commemorates an ancient national hero, Qu Yuan, who threw himself into the Mi Lo river to protest against the corrupt rulers of the time.  Legend has it that as the townspeople tried to rescue him, they beat drums to scare away the fish and threw dumplings into the water to keep the fish from eating Qu Yuan's body.  This grew into the drumbeating coxes of today's dragon boats, and the traditional dumplings of the festival.

More here and here.  I'd heard that it was hot, crowded, and very spring-break-like (there was even an article in the South China Morning Post yesterday about how to get drunk barge-hopping), so as I was on my own with the girls and we'd gotten up at 5:30 to see Grandma off, we decided to simply watch it on television.  Not very authentic, I'm afraid, but we did have dumplings from the restauraunt downstairs, at least!

Today is also, of course,

Worldwide Knit in Public Day.  I took the Forbes Forest scarf to the playground with us -- far too hot for the mohair of Misty Garden, but the stiff breeze blowing around the corner of the building kept the temperature from being unbearable. 

Catching Up

To cover the rather pathetic lack of knitting content, I can only offer that we have actually been sight-seeing since Grandma is here, e.g., the Big Buddha on Lantau Island,

 

the riches of Stanley Market,

the Flower Market in Mong Kok,

and an emergency detour for new shoes when Julia's literally fell apart in the middle of the street.  Not to mention a playdate that somehow swelled to gigantic proportions -- ten preschoolers, ten! -- and most of another afternoon folding and ironing laundry.

We also managed a trip here yesterday,

Mui Tong Wools Co., in Bonham Strand in Sheung Wan.  The street had been rather off the beaten path when I was there last, and has been lately transformed into an absolute chaos by roadworks, so I hardly recognized it.  I was about to walk right past when Laura said, rather wearily, "We're going here, aren't we?"  They were having a sale, 20% off, so it was rather crowded, but Mom and I both managed to find something nice without much effort (!).

Here are my latest acquisitions: from left, four balls of Anny Blatt Mérinos in a lovely soft lavender, and four of Jaeger Alpaca 4-Ply in 393 Damson, a plummy reddish-purple, very pretty; five skeins of Cleckheaton 8 Ply Crepe, an Australian superwash wool blend in a tweedy teal; five balls of Filatura di Crosa Soft Wool, an angora and extra-fine merino blend, in 516, a smoky grey; and the three balls of Jo Sharp Rare Comfort Infusion Kid Mohair in 617 Rosehip that I'd ordered online, for the "Misty Garden" scarf.

I am nearing the end of the second ball of the Matchmaker 4-Ply on the "Forbes Forest" scarf -- it is a fairly easy knit, though slow-going since we've been busy with other things.  I've had a rather intense craving to read this past week, too, so I finished "The Far Side of the World", curled up all by myself with a cup of tea, one rather cool morning.  Bliss!

Hey, Kids, Let's Knit in Public!

June 11th is Worldwide Knit in Public Day!

Count me in!

Knitting My Genealogy

Heidi's not-so-secret-anymore mention of genealogy got me thinking about how similar genealogy and knitting can be to the passionate.

I'm not sure that you can really blog about genealogy, as the day-to-day business of it might be a little, well, dull to read about -- the results can be fascinating even to the unrelated reader, but the progress is more solitary, more intellectual than knitting.  The genealogist can certainly post results on the internet though, and have lots of people from all over the country read it.  (Mine are here at RootsWeb.)

Having said that the day-to-day business of genealogy might be dull to others, it can certainly help to break down a "brick wall" by having others look at your problem, in the same way that posting a photo of your knitting project can get you feedback and advice. 

You can knit while you wait for your turn at the microfiche reader, and you can look up census returns online at Ancestry.com while you wait for your freshly-blocked cardigan to dry.

Very little equipment is really necessary to knit or to do genealogy, but it sure manages to accumulate pretty fast.  ("Honey, do you really need another pattern book/Swedish genealogy manual/magnifying glass/set of rosewood circulars?")  Supplies are another matter -- you always need more yarn, you always need more paper or computer memory, and storage space for all of these!

A research trip to the Family History Library in Salt Lake City is for the genealogist the equivalent of the knitter's pilgrimage to Rowan in Holmfirth or Meg Swansen in Wisconsin.

Coming across a photograph of your great-great-grandmother in a knitted shawl would make you delirious with joy.

The feel and smell of a century-old letter can thrill you just as much as the softness of a fine alpaca fingering-weight against your cheek.

Finding a way to organize and index your collection of vital records can be just as tedious and satisfying as organizing your knitting patterns.  You can also write your own software for either.

A knitter will sit with a Norwegian dictionary and translate word-by-word a pattern for a lusekøfte as willingly as a genealogist will translate 19th-century christening records from Lillehammer.

You can bond with a family member by knitting together or by researching the same family line.

Ripping out weeks of work on a lace pattern is as frustrating as losing a folder of notes from that library visit.

Waiting for the UPS man to bring your backordered Koigu keeps you on tenterhooks exactly the same way as does waiting for the mailman to bring those death certificates from the Pennsylvania Department of Records.

People who just aren't interested in knitting or genealogy have no clue why you get such a kick out of the littlest things.

What is a Bluestocking? and Rosedale

After reading knitting blogs a bit obsessively over the past few months, I've decided to try my hand at it.  I've been impressed enough with the Yarn Harlot, the Knitting Wench, Atropos, and others to have finished a Clapotis in record time, and the urge to record my knitting in words and pictures as well is by now insatiable.  And yes, "blog envy," as the Knitting Wench says, is a pretty good way of putting it!

When I can get past the basics of TypePad, I will post a brief "About Me," but for now I will write that I am a married at-home mother of two pre-school daughters, an English major and former library cataloger, located for the next six months or so in Hong Kong, but otherwise from Southern California.  I have been knitting off and on for about 25 years, I think, partly self-taught from the old "Golden Hands" series and partly learning from my mother, an experienced and dedicated knitter. 

("Former" cataloger -- is there such a thing?  Once a cataloger, always....)

"Bluestocking" is an 18th-century word, even now usually derogatory, for a bookish woman (see a longer explanation at Bartleby).  The "stocking" part is, of course, a nice little pun that probably needs no explanation on a knitting blog....

Here is the first picture of my current work-in-progress, a Rosedale cardigan by Amy Swenson, in Noro Silk Garden #39 --

I started it here in Hong Kong last Tuesday, on the back first, as I had brought only one pair of needles, size 7 straights (the sleeves are to be worked in the round), and it has quickly managed to fill those almost to bursting.

We found a yarn shop this afternoon, Mui Tong Co., at 28 Bonham Strand in Central, near the Sheung Wan MTR station.  All I bought this time was needles -- this set me back a mere HK$199, about US$25.  The shop is definitely worth another trip, when the Rosedale is finished, and I will be thinking about projects for Filatura di Crosa wools, as that seems to be Mui Tong's specialty.