A Bluestocking Knits

Dona Nobis Pacem

It seemed appropriate that on Memorial Day, we were singing this evening Haydn's Paukenmesse, "Mass in Time of War," and Vaughn Williams' "Dona Nobis Pacem."  These are very different pieces, one melodic and classically structured, the other unsettling, brutal at times and disillusioned, but with a stark beauty -- and yet the two works share not only their use of a fabulous percussion score, wonderfully stirring and martial, but a culmination on the Latin text dona nobis pacem, "grant us peace."

Garrison Keillor, in "The Writer's Almanac", which I heard on the radio on the way to choir practice, said that Memorial Day was originally not a day for speeches and debates, but simply a day for both sides -- as it was not long after the Civil War -- to come together and remember, not to judge, but just to remember.  We do so much judging these days, and so little remembering.

The Vaughn Williams piece is set to Biblical texts -- "Nation shall not lift up their sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more" -- and three poems by Walt Whitman.  Whitman is a lot like Vaughn Williams, I think, weird and wonderful.  Sometimes I think he's a bit, well, over-the-top, but other times, even with the same poem, I can't read it without tears in my eyes.  This is from "Dirge for Two Veterans" --

I see a sad procession,
And I hear the sound of coming full-keyed bugles,
All the channels of the city streets they're flooding
As with voices and with tears.

I hear the great drums pounding,
And the small drums steady whirring,
And every blow of the great convulsive drums
Strikes me through and through.

For the son is brought with the father,
In the foremost ranks of the fierce assault they fell,
Two veterans, son and father, dropped together,
And the double grave awaits them.

Now nearer blow the bugles,
And the drums strike more convulsive,
And the daylight o'er the pavement quite has faded,
And the strong dead-march enwraps me.

In the eastern sky up-buoying,
The sorrowful vast phantom moves illumined,
'Tis some mother's large transparent face,
In heaven brighter growing.

...

The moon gives you light,
And the bugles and the drums give you music,
And my heart, O my soldiers, my veterans,
My heart gives you love.

(The soldier in the photograph is a cousin of mine, some half-dozen generations back, from Ohio.)

Booking Through Thursday: Bookless

Booking Through Thursday has a new home and a new button --

This week, BTT asks about inspiration.

It happens even to the best readers from time to time… you close the cover on the book you’re reading and discover, to your horror, that there’s nothing else to read. Either there’s nothing in the house, or nothing you’re in the mood for. Just, nothing that “clicks.” What do you do?? How do you get the reading wheels turning again?

After I finished reading Linda Lear's excellent biography Beatrix Potter: A Life in Nature a few weeks ago, I already had Judith Levine's Not Buying It in hand, thanks to Elizabeth of "A Mingled Yarn", who wrote a few weeks ago about the book, intriguing me enough to search out a copy -- that was easy enough!  Sometimes, all it takes to inspire me is a trip to the library, especially when I see a favorite author on the New Book shelf -- I came home with Claire Tomalin's book on Thomas Hardy the other day, and am looking forward to starting it this weekend.

Like with knitting, or with most things, really, I don't like to read when I'm not in the mood -- makes it seem like work, that way.  There are usually enough other things to either distract me for a while or keep me busy until the inspiration does come!

Thoughts on the Log Cabin Socks

These were finished in a bit of a rush, before the hot weather hits and I don't even want to think about thick wool -- the Log Cabin Socks, my first project from Handknit Holidays by Melanie Falick, despite my having owned the book for over a year now.  I must confess that I did not particularly enjoy making these socks.  It's my first experience with Cork, so I will reserve judgement on it until I knit it at a more reasonable gauge, but here I felt like I was trying to beat it into submission -- not the experience one wants with one's knitting.  It didn't help, to be sure, that my Surina bamboo needles have splits in the tips (again!), so kept catching and splitting the wool.

I was also, like quite a lot of the knitters who have already made these socks, a bit perturbed at the difference between the instructions and the photograph.  Directions for the heel flap don't mention leaving out the last few cables, but I just worked the sts as established after Row 18 of the chart, instead of switching to the second cable portion.  I've heard that the book has rather a lot of errors (there is an errata page from the publisher), but luckily the only other one that I noticed was more one of clarity than actual error: the last part of the heel turn should be something like "Rep Rows 1 and 2 three (four) times, omitting final K1 in last rep of Row 1, and final P1 in last rep of Row 2."  The heel was a bit wonky, but I suppose that's due more to the gargantuosity of Cork than anything else.

I had the morning to myself for finishing, and so I thought this movie would be appropriate --

Log cabins and all, don't you know.  "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers" has really grown on me.  I was a bit bored by it when I first saw it, but I've come to appreciate its rustic charms.  My feminist hackles raise a bit, of course, but there is enough in the characters to counter most of that!  Howard Keel is wonderful enough to make me think that I would have married him on the spot, too!  And I like that Milly knows her own mind well enough to take the risk, but is spunky enough (in the best possible way) to stand up to Adam when she needs to.  I don't need to say anything -- well, not very much, anyway! -- about how terrific the dancing is, as the barn-raising number alone is enough to guarantee the movie its place in musical-comedy history, but the music is fabulous too, beautiful Gene de Paul/Johnny Mercer tunes that leave me humming them for days.

The accompanying documentary on the single-disc DVD has some interesting tidbits and interviews, as well.  Sometimes I find the behind-the-scenes information so distracting that I don't enjoy the movie as much as I would like to -- which I found to be the case in some of the "Lord of the Rings" movies, for instance -- but here it's just fun.  One of the brothers, for instance, was played by a non-dancer, such an intimidating thing in the company of Jacques d'Amboise and Russ Tamblyn, et al., that you can see him around the musical numbers but not actually in them, so we have a good time Benjamin-spotting during the dances -- "look, he's on the other side now! oh, sitting down!".  (Reminds me of the little girl in the "Seventy-Six Trombones" number in "The Music Man" who obviously had trouble remembering the steps, as she's watching the feet of the other little girl.  Poor thing! I sympathize whole-heartedly.)

"Bless your beautiful hide,
Wherever you may be!
We ain't met yet
But I'm willin' to bet
You're the girl for me!"

"Sing Hey, the Merry Maiden"

This is seriously cute -- the Merry Maiden's dress by Gryphon Perkins, from the Spring '07 IK.  It certainly strikes a chord with my own mediaeval-princess fantasies!

I'm not sure than I'd want to spend a hundred dollars on a girl's handknit, though, even if it is for my own lovely princesses.  In wool, in southern California.  Here's one in Plymouth Encore.  I'm still in the planning stages, of course, but not sure whether I'd go for economy, or wool blend and washability -- Shepherd Worsted?  All-Seasons Cotton?

Ladies and Gentlemen, Start Your Sockapaloozas!

I think I've settled on a pattern for my exchange pal -- Roza's Socks, by the inimitable Grumperina, to be found in the IK Spring '07 issue.  I had some trouble with the brioche stitch for a while, but it seems to have evened itself out, although mine looks more than a bit lacier than the originals.  I tend to knit very loosely (which I can never understand, as frankly I'm a very tense person), and the pattern calls for US0/2mm needles for the Shepherd Sock, but I really didn't fancy having to search out smaller needles.  Luckily, we like lace!

On another note, I may also have solved the problem of the Elusive Purples.  My camera, a Canon PowerShot A520, tends to drain out the red tones from most purples, leaving them more blue than anything else.  I learned how to use the "snow" setting this past winter, and discovered the other day that the "foliage" setting indoors (go figure) got me a fairly true Blackberry.  The foliage setting did not work in this morning's seven a.m. overcast light, but "underwater" did!  (The underwater setting seems to pull the blues out of foliage, though, as you can see in the sword ferns in the background.  But it's the yarn we're interested in, here!)

Blackberry

Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock in purply Blackberry, in about 48 hours from Jimmy Beans.

Now to choose a pattern....

Thoughts on the Venezia Socks

Thanks to a set of back-to-back "Doctor Who" episodes on PBS last night, I finished these socks rather quickly.  (It was "The Empty Child" with the Ninth Doctor.  Creepy, with a dark, supernatural note, but of course -- being Doctor Who -- it all has a rational, if futuristic, explanation in the end.  Christopher Eccleston is quite capable and amusing, but I have a bit of a crush on David Tennant, so I'm looking forward to the next series!)

These are the Oak Ribbed Socks from Knitting Vintage Socks by Nancy Bush, worked in Regia Silk in the Venezia colorway.  I have no compunction in renaming my version, even though I made only one minor modification, since they are called "Oak" in the book merely because that is what color Nancy Bush used -- "Venezia" these are to me, and always will be!

I was sure that they would be too small as written, at 63 sts, but they are not at all -- perhaps this is a combination of the stretchiness of the rib and of the wool, and that I find I rather like the closer-fitting socks now that I've made a variety of patterns.  I did cast on with US1s and switched down to 0s after three inches, so that helped a bit with the fit -- my gauge on the smaller needles was about 32 sts to 4 in./10cm.

This is my first try at the French heel.  It's a bit more snug than my usual, with only four sts at the turn.  The "seam" at the back of the heel is, I guess, a vestige of the days when socks were cut from flat fabric and seamed up the back -- it doesn't seem to serve much purpose otherwise, but it makes a pleasant change.

It's also a bit deeper heel than usual, which gives it a rather luxurious feel, especially with the hint of silk from the Regia Silk.  Good for those with high insteps, I would think, without having to modify the heel flap length.

This is also my first try at the Round Toe.  It is worked with K2togs, spaced across in ever-decreasing rounds.  It is perhaps a bit narrower than I like, but certainly interesting and worth trying -- it is not uncomfortable by any means.  I wasn't thrilled with the belly-button effect of drawing the end of the wool through the last 8 sts, and so I grafted those sts together on the first sock, but with that last round being all K2togs, the graft is quite irregular, and in fact does look better with the drawstring.  I did some Googling and found out that the pointiness of this finish tends to smooth out over time, and so I did one with the graft and one with the original drawstring (Nancy Bush's, I should say, since the original Weldon's version had the knitter simply bind off) -- time will tell!

All in all, very comfy!

Decisions, Decisions

The sock pal list is up!  So I'm thinking out loud here, while thumbing through my index file of "Possible Projects, Socks" --

actually the file is still in the developmental stage -- I got this old drawer from the library when they were cleaning out the storage room (can you believe they wanted to get rid of this stuff? I carried it off in triumph, I can tell you!).  I'm writing down the details of projects that interest me, as well as a card for each family member (measurements, likes and dislikes) and a card for favorite yarns, with gauge and washability notes, etc.

Anyway, from Interweave Knits back issues, I remember that Evelyn A. Clark's Retro Rib socks (IK Winter '04) seem to be a crowd-pleaser.  Nancy Bush's Traveler's Stockings (IK Summer '00), Anne Woodbury's Merino Lace (IK Summer '03), and Grumperina's Roza's Socks (IK Spring '07), are all definitely very high on my own must-have list. 

The Traveler's Stockings are also in Nancy Bush's book Knitting on the Road, along with the equally delightful Conwy and Canal du Midi, among others.

And prowling around the sock-knitting world online, there is Craftoholic's stunningly simple Mata Hari socks --  Diamante are interesting -- Snowflake or Quill Lace for spring/summer, perhaps -- IK's Winding Cable Knee Socks? -- or if I really wanted to exert myself, Clessidra or Eunny's Bayerische Socks, both wonderful.  And Charade is brand-spanking-new!

Jaywalkers, a proven winner?

Or something original?

For myself, I don't really care for the highly-embossed patterns, like the Waving Lace Socks (IK Spring '04) or Embossed Leaves (IK Winter '05) and Pomatomus -- not that I don't think they suit other people, and I wouldn't hesitate to knit them for someone who would be happy with them.  It's just that, like the flashier color combinations, they're a bit too "out there" for plain-jane me.

So far, I think Diamante and Charade are on the short-list....