A Bluestocking Knits

In Which My Faith In Humanity Takes Another Knock

I very rarely write here about unpleasant things, either in my life or in the world in general, because I want to keep this blog a place where the most stressful thing for me is having to unravel a piece of knitting or not having enough wool to finish a certain patch of needlepoint.  I am also, though, a bluestocking both by nature and by designation, and as such I can't help waxing philosophical at times -- so instead of going into specifics, I'm going to ponder this morning the general nature of city politics.

Here is what I came up with last night: "Question: At what point does a concerned citizen become a gadfly?  Answer: When he or she stands up to speak against a development proposal at a planning commission meeting."  Is this truly the way it works?  (And is this a theory or a theorem? -- it's certainly a sidetrack.)

I couldn't help noticing, at this first city meeting I have ever attended, that the proposal procedure went like this: the representative of a certain development corporation spoke for as long as he wanted, with slides of idyllic architectural renderings, about a proposed high-density multi-story structure, then citizens in attendance at the meeting were allowed to speak for a maximum of three minutes each, yay or nay but without any visual aids, then the public forum was closed and the developer's representative was allowed to respond, again with visual aids, to these compliments or concerns for as long as he wanted, and then the commissioners offered their closing remarks and voted.  Well, yes, this is certainly democratic, up to a point at least, but is it quite fair? 

Nor could I help remembering, when one of the commissioners observed that few opponents of the development had bothered to come to the meeting, that when the commissioners were making their closing remarks, many of them thanked and complimented the citizens who had spoken in favor of the development ("when Mrs. Jones spoke -- is she still here? oh, too bad, isn't she wonderful! what a great citizen of our fair city! --") but in response to those who had spoken against the development they merely brushed aside the citizens' concerns ("well, Mr. Smith, it's actually irrelevant that you currently live in a similar high-density development and your common spaces that were intended to be open to the community at large have since been fenced off and locked from said community because of misuse and homeless congregations, because this one is going to be different").  Mrs. Jones is therefore a stalwart citizen, and Mr. Smith is an annoyance -- QED.  Is this really the nature of things? was Orwell right, that some citizens are more equal than others?

I don't know -- I hope not.  But I do suspect that the only way I am going to understand city politics is to become deeply cynical, and my whole being resists this like anything.

The Endless Knit of Norwegianness

I finished the Garter Heel socks last night, and blocked them -- they are still too damp to model, so I picked up my Setesdal-style scarf this morning.  It was not at all difficult to figure out where I'd stopped, even so many years ago, so I'm off and running.  Well, not running, really -- I timed myself, and it took me about eight minutes for a two-color row, and about six for a plain one. As Bertie Wooster might say, I hardly know whether to laugh or weep.  These O circular needles have rather sharp points, hard on the fingertips, and a wonky join too, so that every time I adjust the stitches I have to tug to get them past it, and it sounds like ripping.

Oh well -- I still really like the way it's turning out.  Something about Scandinavian knitting really speaks to me, especially the Setesdal lusekofte.  I think it's the miles of quiet with the bit of razzmatazz at each end. 

I also love the neatness of the underside, the way that the strands weave themselves in and out so tidily.

I had decided upon Elizabeth Zimmermann's advice to use her "sock toe" scarf end, but I was still so wet behind the ears, knitting-wise, that I used a bit of dark green wool for the waste stitches, which of course left little green fibers in the white -- I think I've picked out most of them, but you can still see the shadow of a line there!

I got a big kick out of this wonderful photo from the Norwegian Wikipedia article on luskekofter --

The photo was donated to the Municipal Archives of Trondheim by the teacher, whose name was Kristian Flønes -- it's the boys of the Trondheim Framhaldsskole in 1959.  A framhaldsskole, from what I understand, was where those students went who hadn't qualified for gymnasium (what we might call prep school), and was the "more practical and less theoretical" track.  Although only one of these boys looks like trouble, yeah, you can see that they aren't really prep-school material -- but what a wonderful collection of faces and personalities and sweaters!  This would have been just on the brink of the teddy-boy haircut for schoolboys -- you can see one certainly, and some others just about there.  Only one of the sweaters is a really traditional luskekofte (though with a turtleneck), on the boy to Mr. Flønes's right; there are a couple more modern versions on two boys in the front row, and a typical Fana cardigan also in the front row.

Well, I must admit that I wasted a bit of time just now -- as one does, upon hearing that something is going to take you hours and hours of slogging -- on some of those silly internet quizzes --

The funny (scary?!) thing is that I guessed at probably 75% of the questions -- I knew the answers to the history questions (Hitler, the Stasi, etc.) but guessed at most of the others.  Would you pass the German citizenship test? Take this quiz and find out!

I also should live in Hobart of all Australian cities, I'm actually from the US (or France, depending on whether I answered "nachos" or "crème brûlée"), I am between 173cm and 178cm tall (which is about right), with my time machine I should go to either ancient Egypt or ancient Rome (depending, strangely, on whether I answered "dog" or "horse" respectively, as my favorite animal!), I "am" Ingrid Bergman ("The discreet beauty of this actress was perfectly complemented by her low-key character. With her unostentatious refinement she often needed a second chance to cause an impression, but once she did it was overwhelming"!), I'm very good at the plural forms of words, and in a past life I had an affair with -- wait for it! -- Leonardo da Vinci! ("But when you stood to model for him, he was so impressed with your education and your intelligence that he briefly forgot everything else around him. How fortunate that you were already married, otherwise the world would have missed out on many ideas and innovations"! no, that rates two exclamation points ... !!)

I did manage to find, without any trouble at all, a Super Yarn Mart ruler in my sewing drawer --

not so long ago as to be "before" metric, but old enough not to bother with area codes. 

Here is some of the yarn I squirreled away, lots of red, two greys, and black, with unfortunately only a few balls of white.  It is a sturdy, serviceable wool, not spectacular but surprisingly fine-gauge for a workhorse wool, which is why I was so amazed to find it among all of the acrylics and novelty yarns. Plus ça change.

And how long have I had this?

1988.  My goodness.

Ten Things You Didn't Know About the Bluestocking (A Knitting Meme)

Here's a new knitting meme started by Grumperina, ten "knitterly" things you probably don't know about me.

1. I've started my Christmas knitting already!  Can't show you, of course.

2. I've got a bad case of the knitting jitters lately -- you know, when you can't decide what project to do next, and you start one only to look longingly at another, and another, and maybe even another.  A shawl?  Jaywalkers in Shepherd Sock "Lakeview," perhaps?

3 and 4. I dreamed about this last night --

It's from Romantic Style by Jennie Atkinson.  I bought the book for this pattern, although luckily it has a lot of other interesting things as well, because I try not to buy knitting books unless I want to make at least half of the things in it.

5. I answer almost every comment made here, and for those I don't answer specifically, I return a comment on that person's blog.  This comes from my feeling that this blog is supposed to be a dialogue as much as a monologue, and also that if a reader takes the time to comment, I can take the time to reply.  (I apologize to anyone whose comment I apparently ignored the past couple of weeks -- TypePad's notification feature hasn't been working again lately, and so I haven't seen a number of the comments.)  The knitting-related part comes in because I regard this blog as a knitting-group substitute, and enjoy the back-and-forth of commenting very much.  (That said, I'm actually not much of a talker, and don't seem to comment much on the blogs that I read.  I'm trying to change this.)

6. Like Grumperina, I find myself often baffled by Rowan's designs.  But then a lot about Rowan baffles me.  Why is 4-Ply only 2-ply?  Why if Yorkshire Tweed is "a classic" is it being discontinued already?  What color is "Turbid," anyway?

7. My oldest unfinished project is at least ten years old.  No, maybe not that long, but it's old.  Many years ago, I bought up just about every bit of the extra-fine wool at Super Yarn Mart, in hopes of some day knitting a Norwegian luskofte.  After making a Swedish Halland-style sweater, and not being able to wear it more than two or three times a winter, if that, I thought of making a luskofte-style scarf, using Elizabeth Zimmerman's sock-toe scarf idea from Knitting Without Tears and some of the Setesdal luskofte charts in Sheila McGregor's The Complete Book of Traditional Scandinavian Knitting.  It's still a pretty good idea, I think, and a nice scarf, but it is so fine and the needles so tiny that it makes my hands hurt and it takes forever to work even one round.

Well, I can't even find the scarf, it's been so long, but here's the Halland sweater --

8.  But since I started blogging, I finish a lot more things than I used to.  Maybe I'll pick up that scarf more often.

9.  I learned to knit two-handed on the Halland sweater, so it was 1989 -- but for some reason I've never tried to knit Continental on its own.

10. When I had long hair and wore it in a knot, I used to stick my needle in the knot instead of setting it down beside me.  Sometimes I'd forget and walk around with it there half the day.  It was very handy, though, and I miss my hair so much that I'm letting it grow out again.

Just When I Thought It Was Safe to Go Back to Blogging

I've been a bit quiet lately, at least on the blog -- I've got that ennui that seems to creep around the blog world now and then.  Sometimes it seems to take an incredible amount of time from other things in my life, things that I should be doing and things that I want to do.  I've been busy with the girls and the garden these past few weeks -- the recent rains have made the weeds spring up in the backyard with appalling speed -- and I often find so very many beautiful things on others' blogs that distract me from the things that I have already found beautiful enough to distract me from the previous beautiful things.

This is the first of a pair, the Hedera socks, blocking yesterday afternoon.  Eminently distracting.  I stopped reading blogs for a few days while I was knitting, putting on some metaphorical blinkers, conscious of the other projects waiting patiently on the needles, and then the other day I started reading blogs again and saw Nancy's "Turning Twenty" quilt in progress, but no, no -- I'm not going to start quilting! not until I get a few more things finished around here!  Even though it is incredibly lovely....

So here I am, sensing a reorganization of my life on the horizon --

Blackbird would like to see an outfit for Show and Tell this week.  I asked the girls to dress up a Barbie for me, and this is what they came up with, "Sparkle-fairy" and "Barbie-sanita" on the left and right dressed by Laura (who couldn't limit herself to one), and "Theresa" in the middle, dressed by Julia.

Sense

These seem to appear whenever I see a Jane Austen film! This particular quiz is actually more effective than most, as the questions aren't so leading ("Q: Would you rather dance or ride a scooter?" "A: You are La-La!").

Amusing to see Emma Thompson pop up, anyway!

"Which Jane Austen Character are You?"

You scored as Elinor Dashwood. As Marianne's older sister, Elinor lives at the other end of the emotional spectrum. She rarely reveals her intense feelings and is more concerned with being honest and loyal than having what she deserves. Even though her intentions are pure, she sets herself up for loss by constantly placing other people before her own needs. Overall, Elinor is gentle and rational but is just as capable of radical emotions (despite her withholding them) as her sister.

Elinor Dashwood		75%
Marianne Dashwood		63%
Elizabeth Bennet		59%
Jane Bennet		56%
Charlotte Lucas		47%
Emma Woodhouse		44%
Lady Catherine		3%

Which Jane Austen Character are You? (For Females) Long Quiz!!!
created with QuizFarm.com

Heroines -- Women's History Month, 2006

In honor of Women's History Month, I've compiled an album of heroines -- some of the many women who have influenced my life.  (I've chosen three photos at random to share here, but there are many others.)

Each has, however indirectly -- because I know none of them personally -- been a role model at some stage of my life, either strengthening a resolve that was already there, or becoming a turning point to a new and wonderful direction.

"I told you in the course of this paper that Shakespeare had a sister; but do not look for her in Sir Sidney Lee's life of the poet. She died young —alas, she never wrote a word.… Now my belief is that this poet who never wrote a word and was buried at the cross-roads still lives. She lives in you and in me, and in many other women who are not here to-night, for they are washing up the dishes and putting the children to bed. But she lives; for great poets do not die; they are continuing presences; they need only the opportunity to walk among us in the flesh." -- Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own (1929)

Please take a moment to celebrate the heroines in your own life!

Meme of Four, Tweaked

Claire tagged me for the Meme of Four a while back.  It seems to have morphed a little in the meantime, or maybe that was just me --

Four Jobs You’ve Had in Your Life:  Library page, library clerk, library assistant, library cataloger.  (And get this, all at the same place!)

Four Movies You Could Watch Again and Again But For Some Reason Haven't Pulled Off the Shelf in Ages:  "Truly, Madly, Deeply", the 1987 Lord Peter Wimsey/Harriet Vane series, "The Music Man", "Our Mutual Friend".

Four Places You’ve Lived in Another Life (Or Wish You'd Lived if You Can't Really Believe in Past Lives):  England at pretty much any point in history, somewhere on the Oregon Trail, ancient Egypt, Renaissance Italy.

Four Relatively Obscure Actors Who Make You Cheer When You See Their Name Scrolling By After the Title:  Sophie Thompson, Roshan Seth, Cherie Lunghi, Jean-Pierre Cassel.

Four Voices You'll Listen To Even if All They Are Reading Is Your Grocery List:  David McCullough, Alan Rickman, Michael Wood, Cecilia Bartoli (especially because my grocery list would sound fantastico in Italian).

Four Websites On Your Blogroll:  Blogroll?

Four Food Indulgences:  Sticky toffee pudding, a Ruby's Super Burger with a cherry Coke (the only time I ever drink Coke, and it has to be with Grenadine, not that fake stuff), scones with clotted cream, See's chocolates (especially the chocolate buttercreams).

Four Things to Knit if You Ever Get Around to Joining the Behind the Times Knitalong:  A Picovoli, Eris, a Sophie bag, another Clapotis.

Four Albums You Can’t Live Without:  The Christopher Hogwood recording of Handel's "Messiah", Vivaldi cello concertos, a "Best of Split Enz" that has a lot more tracks than this, and a Beatles to be named later (because I can't decide).

Four Simple Pleasures:  Coming in to the house from outside and smelling something good, and realizing, "That's my dinner!"  Writing a letter with pen and paper.  Glass doorknobs.  Watching my children sleep.

Joyous Knitting Meme

(The ever-delightful Joy tagged me for this meme.  Play if you want, dear Reader, with no pressure!)

What is your all-time favorite yarn to knit with?  I don't know if I really have a favorite yet.  One of the reasons for my starting a knitting blog was to try new things, new yarns and patterns and techniques and inspirations.  That said, I really did enjoy my projects with Jaeger Extrafine Merino and Rowan Calmer, and suspect that Rowan Wool Cotton is not too far away in my future.

Your favorite needles?  Wooden or bamboo, so far.  Haven't tried Addis yet.  I like the sound the wooden ones make, a nostalgic little tick-tick.  I had a wonderful pair of rosewood circulars a few years back, a beautiful reddish-golden-brown wood, so smooth and warm to the touch.  Laura, who was about one then, was fascinating by my knitting and used to tug at it as the needles moved, and as she grabbed hold of the plastic center, one of the needles snapped in my hand.  I tried gluing and sanding it, but of course it wouldn't hold.  I recently splurged on a replacement, but they're just not as good this time, I don't know why.  Sorry, a little "Citizen Kane" moment there -- "Rose-wood!"

The worst thing you've ever knit?  I don't even remember!  I've had my share of howlers, to be sure -- too-long sleeves, weird shaping, poor color or fiber choice.  I usually just rip 'em out, or if I can't bear to look at something, it goes into the donation box.

Your favorite knit pattern?  I rarely knit the same thing twice, except for dishcloths, and I refuse to nominate a dishcloth as my favorite knitting pattern.  I have especially fond memories of a few recent knits -- Kate Gilbert's Clapotis, and Nancy Bush's Truly Tasha's Shawl and Ene's Scarf from Scarf Style.

Most valuable knitting technique?  Possibly the humble Kitchener stitch, a.k.a. grafting.

Best knit book or magazine?  I subscribed to Vogue Knitting for a long time, until I came to the conclusion that there were a lot more things I didn't want to knit in it than things I did, so I switched to Interweave Knits, in the early part of the Melanie Falick years, and I like it a lot.  A large percentage of my knitting books library is from the days when I had pots of money to spend on myself, so that I have a good collection of older Rowan/Kaffe Fassett books, Kim Hargreaves, etc. etc. and not many new ones.  I still like almost all of the patterns in Marion Foale's Classic Knitwear.  Probably the one that I use the most is a reference book, Montse Stanley's Knitter's Handbook.

Your favorite knitalong?  I don't think I've done enough of these to justify an answer, as I've been happy with all of them.  The Scarfstyle and Gathering of Lace-along ones are especially interesting due to the number of projects available and the unlimited time!

Your favorite knitblogs?  I've just revised my posted list a bit to add a few, though I usually read a number of others via links from my links, as well.  It's so easy to get distracted, but I kind of like that, sort of like walking around at a party and chatting with old friends and meeting some new ones.  I am so impressed that there is such a variety of knitbloggers out there -- my own list includes people from all over the US (some natives, some not), from the UK, Canada, Scandinavia, Australia, and Hong Kong, female and male, some "classic" pattern-lovers, some adventurous, some very fast knitters with new projects every week, some plugging away until they have one wonderful thing to show.

Your favorite knitwear designer?  This is a tough question.  Like with clothes, knitwear designers often have a wide variety of designs, some that I would wear and some that I would not.  I tend to like the simpler things, almost always the more "timeless" designs, and am hardly ever trendy.  I think that Elizabeth Zimmermann fits this description (and often her daughter Meg Swansen, too), and the less-fussy Kim Hargreaves and Debbie Bliss designs too.  I've also really enjoyed the two Nancy Bush things I've done.  Kaffe Fassett is my wild card -- judging by most of my projects, you wouldn't think I'd be interested, but he blows my mind.

The knit item you wear the most?  For old favorites and sheer durability, probably these,

a riff on the simplest Kaffe Fassett "Stripes" pattern in a double-knitted scarf, and

a variation on Martha Waterman's Cat's Paw Square Shawl from Traditional Knitted Lace Shawls, with only the Old Shale border.

Life Breaking In

Garter Stitch Jacket so far --

 

This is Attempt Number 3 at the sleeves, Number 1 of which came out when it was obvious that they were at least two inches too long, even after rolling up; Number 2 was ripped back when there was a knot in the cotton that would have entailed a join at the center of the cuff, garter stitch worked sideways, remember, and nowhere to hide woven-in ends.  I was obviously not thinking very clearly when I went from a project knitted on US9s in wool held double, to one in fine-gauge cotton on US3s, either.

What I'm Trying to Get My Head Around Today: the "Dickens v. Domesticity" thing.  I've noticed a number of bloggers mentioning this lately, the gulf between the life of the mind, as it were, and of home and family in women's lives.  (Is is the beginning of the school year?  I seem to feel this same thing welling up in me every September, when I drive past the college and the students with their shining morning faces, on my way to the grocery store.  And should it be "v." and give a legal, even if I may, "courtly," sense of an intellectual argument, propounded over wine and chicken Marsala, or "versus" and sound like a trashy, no-holds-barred wrestling match?)

It always sounds more than a little poignant to me when women say, "My life began when I met X."  I don't mean to disparage this sentiment, which is sweet and nice, which I hope I am myself most of the time.  But what does it imply about the years before this event?  Isn't that a big part of the Dickens side of an intellectual woman? where does it go?  Perhaps my dismay comes from the fact that I met my husband-to-be when I was already in my thirties, and the Domestic side of me had given up hope, and the Dickens part rebelled at the fact that I even labeled it "hope" when I Should Not Need a Man to Make Me Feel Complete.  A part of my life began at this point, certainly, and an extremely vivid and fulfilling part it is, to be sure.  But I was already fairly solidly established intellectually, even allowing for the fact that there is always something new to be learned -- I'm not the brainiest person I know, not by a long chalk, but the Dickens part was how I defined myself for a long time before I met my X.  It's an old argument, of course -- women have been feeling this disparity ever since they started being intellectual.  (And we all know how long that's been.)  How does one reconcile a career and family, scholarship and housekeeping?  Why does it seem that one side must start and the other stop, why does a woman define herself as "before and after," can we possibly have it all?  I'm tempted to add "Dickens v. Domesticity" as a category for this blog, it's such an eternal question.  (And I love the alliteration.)

Sigh (both regretful and amused).  My life is a game of Grandmother's Footsteps these days, with the steps backward beginning to outnumber the steps forward.  I found my stack of "current" reading yesterday, buried under a mountain of artwork schlepped home from the girls' Hong Kong preschool.  I am finding it incredibly frustrating toilet-training a stubborn child, especially when much of what I love so much about her is that she is so strongly and wonderfully her own person.  My cookbook shelf is now bigger than my women's studies shelf.  Instead of pondering and marveling on the relationship of wool skeins to art, I find myself refereeing the battle between two little girls about who has more Thomas engines in her train.

(No kidding!  Look at this --

The skeins have this wonderful organic-ness about them, they seem almost alive, the way that they twist and how the light and variations of color add extra dimensions.  They remind me of Michelangelo's slave studies, the way the arms wrap around their heads, the legs that bend and seem to emerge from the rock surrounding them.)

Well, I will close this rant with a misquote from Virginia Woolf -- "I meant to write about knitting, only life came breaking in as usual"!

Philadelphia Story

Have spent the last few evenings, after the girls have gone to bed, watching the 2-disc DVD edition of "The Philadelphia Story".  I can recommend it for the movie itself, of course, but the extras are good too.  Film historian Jeanine Basinger provides a commentary -- she sounds more than a little professorial at times (at one point, in fact, shuffling pages can be heard), but nevertheless she gives a lot of interesting information about the film and its cast and crew.  (I can, by the way, highly recommend her 1993 book "A Woman's View : How Hollywood Spoke to Women, 1930-1960", a fascinating look at "women's movies" and their stars.) 

The DVD also includes two full-length documentaries, one on Katharine Hepburn and one on George Cukor, both about an hour long and packed with details on their respective careers.  There are also two (!) radio versions of the play, with the main cast from the movie.  One, from 1942, cuts the play down to about an hour, including war bond commercials and a war effort plug from the four stars and Cecil B. DeMille at the end -- the other version, from 1947, is a zippy half-hour total, including Lady Esther ads for hats and face powder.  (Actually, here is the "Lady Esther" version itself.  Apparently Lady Esther was a cosmetics company in the forties.  And for a rather long digression about advertising as a "reflection of society" in the 1920s and 1930s, read this, which is in some ways related to Basinger's book that I mentioned above, discussing how a particular social group reflects and is reflected by a particular media, being both its audience and its target.)

I am not sure why the Robert Benchley short "That Inferior Feeling" and the MGM cartoon "The Homeless Flea" were included on this DVD, as they seem to bear little relation to either "The Philadelphia Story" or to any of its cast -- perhaps the DVD producers wanted to give us an idea of what it was like to see "The Philadelphia Story" in the theater in 1940.  It is kind of fun to do the whole movie thing, pop some popcorn and watch a short and a cartoon and the feature!  (It was funny to notice that the first set in the Benchley short was used in a Spencer Tracy movie featured in the Cukor documentary, even down to the Holbein print on the wall behind the desk.)

Well, back to knitting -- I'm making an effort to schedule some regular knitting time, since I've had to let things sit for so long.  I decided to rip out the two squares I'd done so far for the green baby blanket.  I still like the idea of the stripes of the Nature Wool going in different directions, and I had grafted the two squares together, then come to the conclusion that the seam as worked was too stiff for what one hopes will be a soft baby blanket, after all, and I did not want to use the limited time at my disposal in fiddling with grafting methods.  So -- out it all came, back to the beginning, and started again as a Big Bad Baby Blanket proper.  Luckily, being worked with two strands at once, it grows fairly quickly.

I love the Escher-ness of the center, where the four squares come together -- always going down the staircase.