Knitting Scouts - a quick post

Hey, I've earned myself some Knitting Scouts badges! (from Cast On dot com for other Knitting geeks):


* There's The “MacGyver” Badge (Level One) - The recipient must demonstrate clever use of a non-knitting tool in a knitting-related scenario. For instance, recipient has used paper clips as stitch markers, or successfully whittled and then utilized bamboo skewers as dpns.

* The “Knitting Whilst Under the Influence” Badge - This applies to both actual knitting under the influence, as well as achieving moments of stunning intellectual clarity about ones knitting under the influence. Presumes talking about knitting whilst under the influence a given.... didn't knit anything very stunning, however!

* The “Inordinately Fond of Novelty Yarn” Badge - In which the recipient professes an arguably unhealthy affinity for yarn with slubs, sparkles, spangles, fur, feathery bits, and an unconscionable proportion of man-made fibre. Recipient makes no apology for the preference (This was earned on WonderBoy's behalf, for his love of my very fuzzy novelty scarf that he likes to wear around the house like a feather boa, usually teamed with my shower cap);

* The “Proselytize Knitting” Badge - A requirement for all Knitting Scouts, the recipient must do his or her bit to present knitting in a positive light, whilst at the same time avoiding all references to “hipness”, grandmothers, and yoga.


* The “I’ve Knit Items With No Conceivable Practical Application” Badge - Recipients are those “special” campers who have knit items which somehow missed the mark of their intended application. There are probably more who are deserving of this badge than one would expect. My personal crime was two (yep, two!) right legs for baby leggings. I blame pregnancy for the lapse in any sort of clear thinking.

Tomorrow: I stop pinching wonderful ideas from other people's knitting podcasts (actually, I can't say I pinched. Here's the link to 'Cast On', a wonderful podcast that I spruik on a regular basis) and start ranting about my case of startitis and my boredom with endless rows of baby yarn...

In which Jenny girds up her loins...

... and stops being such a spinning wuss.

I must have been in a crappy mood last post (sorry for scaring away any potential regular readers of 'shoeboxes' - do I have *any* regular readers? Comment if you are - I'd love to know that me typing all this isn't just some ego thing), and so upon getting up today (to find Pete and Wonderboy engaged in a massive battle of wills over breakfast) I decided that today was the day to clean the house, properly. Bear in mind that my version of cleaning the house properly involves mopping as well as vacuuming, plus cleaning the whole bathroom (not just throwing some chemicals down the toilet and wiping the vanity mirror). Another thing to remember is that this process is undertaken at two times:

1. When the house becomes too disgusting for me to pretend to tolerate (this usually happens in two week to two month intervals. I know. It's gross.) There is some minor cleaning in between these times, usually a quick vacuum and a frenzy of wiping surfaces.

2. The other times are when we're expecting guests. I leave cleaning till the last minute, and then go totally off my chops at Pete for not guessing all that needed to be done and for 'daring' to ask me "Is there anything I can do to help?" when I'm headfirst down the toilet, scrubbing like my life depends on it, whilst muttering things like "Do y'think they'll notice if I don't wipe the inside of the bin flap down?"

What's really weird is that whenever we do a decent clean, I always feel compelled to call up friends and invite them round that evening for a meal. It's like I need to prove to everyone that I do manage to keep a clean house at least some of the time. I wonder sometimes about Wonderboy and hygiene, but then I remember that a child should consume something like a kilo of dirt before they turn five, or something to that effect... Nah, just jokes, I do make sure things are 'clean' where Wonderboy is concerned.

Wonderboy is very good about helping to tidy up (at the moment. This is scheduled to change at a time of Wonderboy's choosing. Thank you for your enquiry. Please call again.), to the point where he is loving the opportunity to help put things in the bin. He's taken to helping himself to onions from the drawer, to peel them then make multiple trips to the bin to pop the skin in. Bless his strange little mind.

Oh, yeah. Spinning... Don't mind me, I do this in real life, too.

ANYWAY, turns out I was so pleased with the amount of work we managed to get done (the amount of work Wonderboy allowed us to get done), plus I got some potting done in the garden, and feeling on a roll, I threw caution to the wind and decided to card some mohair to have a crack at spinning.

This is the sunroom that I recently claimed as my own for a "spinning room" (since I'm too scared to try going into the study, let alone spin in there).














Here's my first attempt at a rolag. Not quite, I think you'll agree. I watched some how-to videos on the Joy of Handspinning website. Very well done, easy to understand and clear. Love the videos.

I got a little better as I went along. I have more work to do, I understand...











And here's my wee little basket of rolags after half an hour of carding. Proud much?

Handspinning self esteem issues.

I have them.

Lately, I have found myself not content to wait for the Yarn Harlot's next exciting installment, so I have gone right back to the very beginning of her blog archives and decided to read them one at a time. All of them.

Anyone who knows me even just a little, knows of my reading 'thing'. My mother would say on a regular basis when I was a kid, "Oh, Jenny would read the back of a bus ticket if she couldn't find anything else". And it's true. When I go back to Mum and Dad's, the first thing I do is sift through the mass of magazines and pattern books that Mum collects and leaves on the coffee table. I'm useless if there's something even remotely interesting to read, and a damn near write-off as a human being if there's a Harry Potter within my reach.

And so, I am entertaining myself while Wonderboy is napping with 'Get This' podcasts, and catching up on all there is to know of the Harlot that I didn't already know. It's fascinating - I now know the origins of The Gansey that has plagued the Harlot's life for so very long. Very interesting.

Which leads me to spinning, and my lament that despite having spent money on Ebay for my lovely Ashford wheel, having collected big bags of fleece to spin on said wheel and having pinched my mother in law's handcarders to card said fleece, I don't think I'm ever going to learn to spin. That sounds a little fatalistic, I know. But hear me and my defeatism out. Here are my thoughts behind this decision:

1. I'm not even currently knitting right now. I should be knitting right now, but I'm not, I'm dicking about on the computer (although let's face it, the main reason for me to not be knitting is that as much as I love knitting baby clothes for my friends and their bubs, and I love how soft the yarn is, this is the fourth white stocking-stitch baby hat I've knit this year. I am sick to death of it, and I'm also sick of tiny, tiny needles. The only thing that keeps me at it is the glorious promise of The Next Project) and if I can't even get my arse in gear to continue my beloved knitting, what hope do I have of making time to learn spinning?!?

2. Even though we are ensconced in our lovely new house, which has considerably more room for us and our crap, I have very quickly found that as Wonderboy has become older and more mobile, any space 'for me' is quietly and quickly shrinking. Even my bedside table is no longer my own - I have to keep anything of mine up and out of the way of my little marauder. And so the lovely Ashford spinning wheel has been carefully placed in the room in our house affectionately known as 'the study'.

3. 'The study' is full of any crap we haven't put away yet after the move, plus two desks and Pete's computer, which just breeds crap. I stay away from this room for fear that one day I might go in and never come out again. It has become Pete's territory, and so my poor little wheel is buried right at the back. All the fleece I procured has been shoved under my bed (I was frightened it might get chucked out when I wasn't looking - it's in a kind of Alpaca fleece protection program for its own safety), and so I'm not sure I could get all the stuff I need out to spend any decent length of time spinning.

4. I am a total wussbag. I don't want to try till I've taken some lessons in spinning from someone who knows what they're doing. I bought some books, researched on the Internet (cause I like reading, remember?) but I just don't feel... confident. I know, this is spinning wool, not driving a road train, but... ugh. And do you think I can find any lessons anywhere near my local area?

*sob* I'm waiting for the violins to start playing... hehehe.

While I continue 'not knitting' and wait for the Pity Police to come and take me away, here are some photos of someone who's really doing it tough.

This is Wonderboy, who has of late taken a real shine to any and all new technology in the house. His favourites were phones (mobile and landline cordless, he's not picky), but the proviso was no imitations or substitutions. This kid ain't stupid. He knows that Pete's phone is the most up-to-date of any in the house and if he wants to 'talk' to Nana, he wants to be doing it on that phone. Lately, his techno-lust has extended to my camera, and the following four shots document one little boy's descent into rage as his awful, awful mother refuses to hand over her camera:




















1. Making pre-emptive cranky sounds




















2. Letting the local district know how unhappy he is (imagine birds flocking out of nearby trees)




















3. Hands clenched, shaking with rage




















4. That's it woman - you've had it!

Till next time... I'm going to start looking for a spinning guru to whom I can attach myself... cleave to, if you will.

... and then she wore it!

I did, I really did - I got my lovely Linen Print top all finished, blocked and stitched up in time for me to wear to my Year Twelve ten-year reunion. Okay, not to the proper reunion; I wore it to the gathering the night before, held at The Oaks in Neutral Bay. Here's a shot of the finished product:

The making up was a bit wonky, I'm still not quite as proficient as I could be at this part of the whole process. I don't have a great deal of confidence in my handsewing abilities and so I sew, and oversew, and then around the arm seams, I sew it over once more just for good measure. I don't want this bugger to fall apart, or even need repair. Ever. If it needs repair, this will suggest that I didn't sew it together well enough in the first place.

I blocked and pressed the pieces last Thursday night, and took it with me to Mum and Dad's place on Friday afternoon, and started piecing it together, with Mum keeping half an eye out on me so I didn't make any major cock-ups. By the time I'd left to go home (at about 10.30pm, mind you) I had sewed the top of one sleeve on. I stayed up till past midnight, getting the top of the second sleeve on. I had a really good reason for this, and I'm sure anyone reading this will find me certifiably mad for even planning this... I wanted to be able to keep sewing this together in the car, and I thought if I set it up so there are no detached pieces, this will make it easier.

I like to make life hard for myself, I really do.

And so, in the 33 degree heat that was last Saturday, in among packing and organising my family to go to Sydney for the weekend (which takes a lot. Don't let anyone tell you that packing for a small human must be, logically, easier and quicker than packing for a fully-grown human) I found myself stitching together the pieces of jumper that was to be my attire for that evening. I finished it within minutes of arriving at our hotel, and this was within minutes of needing to be dressed and hurrying down Military Road to the pub to meet up with my classmates. Ooh, I like to live on the edge, me.

The best part of the evening (apart from wowing people with my talent for making my own clothes - not. Strangely, I think people take a bit of a view of pity on those of us who enjoy knitting our own garments. Something along the lines of "That's so clever of you? Yeah - I buy my clothes!" he he. Nah, I know there wasn't any pity praise. It's just the way that non-knitters look at the whole labour of love). Where was I? The best part of the evening, apart from my putting away scary amounts of wine, which while fun at the time, bit me squarely in the arse the next morning. At 5.30am. When Wonderboy decided to get up.

Aack. Back to the point. The point! The best part of my evening was when I, nervous, dressed and ready to go, crouched down in front of Wonderboy to say goodbye. My beautiful, beautiful little 19-month-old boy reached up and held my ears and said "Pitty". I asked, "You think Mummy's pretty?" And my darling looked at my face, and said "Pitty Mummy. Ear!"

I have the most beautiful ears in the world. Wonderboy said so.

It was the drugs, I swear!

I finished the second arm of my Linen Print top today, and I have to say, I am SO PROUD. This is the shortest time I have ever taken to knit an adult top, and this was one with a reasonably complex stitch pattern (for me, anyway - I know, I'm still learning!), plus I even made sure to be careful and thorough about the whole thing, undoing and redoing mistakes. I feel I am on my way to becoming A Knitter.

Back to me finishing the second arm. I was coming up to the end of the straight part of the arm, and absolutely motoring along, and making my increases on each end, every sixteen rows and marking it on the photocopy of my pattern faithfully. After awhile, I found myself thinking, "I could have sworn I finished the other arm faster than this", but my little markings told me I still had five out of the last sixteen rows to complete...

Now, the next ten minutes were a bit of a blur, I have to say. I just remember feeling like someone had slapped me on the forehead and next thing I know, there's a puddle of Rowan Linen Print noodles around my ankles. I had completed an extra fourteen rows thinking I still had a pair of increases to make, when in reality I had done enough rows to have completed all the necessary decreases for the set-in sleeves and cast off! I still maintain it's the meds I'm on to shake this head cold that made me do it... Hey, I think it's the meds I have to thank for making me knit like a maniac!

So, I am proud to say, I rethreaded the needles, completed the last fourteen or so rows, and got on with sewing in the edges. Hopefully in the next day or so I can get it all sewn up in time to wear to my Year 12 ten-year reunion; an event I'm nervous and excited about at the same time...

...I still can't believe I've finished a top for myself in two months - I'm so proud!

Urrghh...

Feeling... so... sick...

Taking such exemplary care of Pete this last week has taken its toll, and now I reign supreme in the 'Fortress of Germs' as I refer to our house. Pete, God bless him, has taken on care of me beautifully, and spent today running around for me as I lay in repose on the lounge. Unfortunately, this means I'm not doing much else, including knitting. And that makes me so sad.

Here's a stash picture to keep me going: I've got some baby knitting to do for a dear dear friend who's currently overseas and expecting her first little one. As it's a surprise, I won't detail the pattern here, but I will in my Ravelry pages.








And, speaking of little ones, here's my little one - he's been practicing smiling lately, with all his teeth. Even when we've been crook, it's still such a pleasure looking after Wonderboy!

I'm trying!

Funny, I've only done a few of the 'Five Senses Sunday' posts and I've had enough already! I might make it a once-in-a-while thing, to make sure that I only post when I have something of interest to add photos to.

In other news, my dear darling husband has been crook as a dog this last week, and Wonderboy developed a nasty cough that's been really stuffing his sleep around, after he had his Chickenpox (Varicella) immunisation last week. So, I've had sole responsibility for the household - never have I been so grateful for our new car!!! At least I've been able to get Wonderboy out of the house to go to Mum and Dad's, to the park, and the do grocery shopping. Pete's been able to have time to rest without Wonderboy poking him in the face, saying "Dadda ni-nor" (Daddy's sleeping, isn't he, Mum?)...

I'm really happy with this current knitting project - the linen print is knitting divinely, and I have to say, this is my first project in which I feel I can start calling myself a Knitter (with a capital K, as opposed to knitter with a lowercase k). The Yarn Harlot describes the difference in 'Knitting Rules!' - I'm pretty certain that's the book, but (and I apologise to the Harlot for my slack arse here) I am just so, so tired that I cannot be bothered looking up the direct quote. Sad, isn't it? I can't help it - knitting has won out these days...

I feel like I've got the confidence to rip back and redo now, rather than tilting my head to one side as I look at a little mistake and saying "Aw, no-one will notice", even though everytime I put on that item, I think "That's that spot where I stuffed up the ribbing". And, I've decided, now is the time to Knit like a Grown-Up. Heaven forbid this means I act like a grown up - that's never going to happen! All this means is that when I cock-up, I stop, I think and I go back and fix the problem, even if this means making an effort!

I've now cast off the front, and cast on a sleeve - I feel like I'm flying on this one! This would have to be the fastest I've knit a top for myself!

Check out my gorgeous, gorgeous rose as it has opened this week. This is the very first bloom from my own, brand-new rose garden I planted in the winter. This is from a variety called 'Fragrant Delight'...

Quit Jivin' me, Turkey!

Some knitting quotes for today. The first one's mine, I just said it to Pete, as I explained how I would need to rip back three rows on the front of the linen print (I got too enthusiastic as my decreases were continually correct, and I totally forgot to change colours!):

"That's why I like doing the backs first; that way most of my cock-ups are behind me... literally"

I have spent this morning looking after my sick and miserable-looking husband, as he sits balled-up and shivering on the lounge in his Holden flannelette pyjamas (he has a temperature - I'm not freezing him in some wacked-out, 'old wives tale' cure!), and doing the grocery shopping with Wonderboy. This is a new thing for us so far, as we've only had the new car a few days. I'm sure the novelty of "I'll take Wonderboy shopping, you stay at home" will wear off pretty soon.

Once Wonderboy went down for his afternoon nap, I crashed out on the lounge, grabbed the computer, and started up the latest "Cast On" podcast. A new thing for me, "Cast On" is the brainchild of Brenda Dayne, a native Oregonian who has been living, writing and knitting in Wales for the past five years. She has such a lovely, soothing voice, and I find her podcasts so interesting to listen to, usually as I knit. I'm having a bit of trouble connecting with other knitters in my local area (though Ravelry in helping with this!), and so I rely on knitters blogs from all over the place, and "Cast On" to really help reinforce my sense of being a part of this community of these lovely and often strange individuals called Knitters.

Interestingly, Brenda's subject for this most recent podcast was "I speak Jive". This is a quote from the movie 'Flying High', where an old lady offered to translate the 'jive' a bloke was speaking to the air hostess.

What has all this to do with knitting, you ask?

Brenda says:

“In linguistics, a ‘language death’ is a process that occurs when there are no longer speakers of a given language. This can happen in a variety of ways… this process happens slowly, when the older generation cease to transmit the language to younger generations, with the result being fewer and fewer people who speak the language…”

She refers to a book called ‘Traditional Country Craftsmen’, about the tools and languages of mostly forgotten crafts. The end of the book discusses textile crafts, and she was amazed to find that the familiar tools and methods of spinners and weavers had ended up the same way as those of ‘thatchers’, ‘cloggers’ and ‘chair bodgers’ - crafts long ago faded into obscurity.

She continues:

“Several years ago, I knit a sweater called ‘the red edge’ from the book ‘Poems of Colour’. I haven’t worn it in a couple of winters, because the button band was knit - a bit funky... I stopped wearing the sweater that for all of the things I have knit over the years, this was the one thing of which I am most proud…

... On Sunday, I decided to fix the red edge… I had an extra skein in the main colour left over from this project, and so I didn’t bother reknitting the yarn, I just tossed it and started fresh… I also knit the bands a little wider, so they’d accommodate a zipper. the sweater looks great… I love it again, and I cannot wait for the zip to arrive so I can finish the project…

... I ordered an 18-inch, cream coloured open-ended zip, because I could not find one locally. This item cost 4.50, with shipping probably closer to 5. Convert that, to US and I have just paid 10 bucks for an 18 inch, cream coloured plastic zipper, because they are items of such rarity in this country that you must pay for them dearly... People used to sew in Britain. And not that long ago. How did this happen? When did people give it up, and why?

…The birth of industrial process may not have killed craft, but it surely hastened its demise. People stopped ‘bodging’, and ‘clogging’, and ‘thatching’, and sewing, and the language of the crafts dies with them. I don’t think this will happen to knitting, at least not in my lifetime, still I feel it’s usually best to hedge one’s bets. And that is why I speak jive.”

I love the way she linked that all together. Debbie Stoller speaks the same way in 'Stitch and Bitch', referring to engaging in crafts like knitting and crochet as not being anti-feminism, but pro-feminism. Preserving these crafts, these traditions, and not letting them fall by the wayside as we become more and more dependent on technology as a society is such a strong thing to be a part of, and really feels to be, I don't know, humanity-affirming to me. It kind of reminds me how I'm a tiny, tiny part of something bigger, and I love that feeling.

Wow, that was unexpected...

How funky.

Last post I told y'all how I was merely a gnat's wing (my husband would use the term 'a bee's d*ck' for that one) away from receiving my Ravelry invite, right?

The next day, I checked my placement again, thinking 'ooh, I'll update my progress along the list', and the message "You are 0 places away from receiving your Ravelry invite. We sent you an email invitation TODAY". How terribly exciting!

Hence my not posting for a few days - I've been crawling around Ravelry, exploring all the wee nooks and crannies and setting up my profile. It's taking some time, cause I want everything to look bee-yew-ti-ful. Of course I don't have enough to do on the internet yet, do I, between Facebook, Shoeboxes, Lifestory and now Ravelry. I love it!

Some pictures of a newly-finished throw rug, I think, to top this post off. I put pictures (ages ago) under "The not-quite-started and the not-quite-finished" of this throw being completed. I'm really happy with the way it blocked, cause it just wasn't lying flat. It's actually the first major lot of blocking I've done, and since I'm so happy with the result, I may make it a regular occurrence...

And, in other knitting news, my linen print top has a back part, completed last night! I am just so enjoying knitting this one. The linen blend is so lovely and soft, and I can't wait to wear it this summer, it looks like it's going to drape so nicely... Or maybe I've got a bit of wishful thinking going on here that somehow this top will hide any unsightly muffin-top. How is this going to work? The top is composed primarily of HOLES. Hmmm. Something for me to think about here. Ah, who cares. I still love this project.

To finish: a vase of lilacs that have started flowering in my backyard. We moved here at the end of last summer, and it's wonderful to watch how all the plants are waking up, and I can see all the different colours they've turned out to be...

Lovely stuff.

Five Senses Sunday (or 'Oh, the Humanity!')

I know this post is a couple of days late; I'm not going to make a habit of it. I've been up till 1am every night for the past three nights, and since Wonderboy hasn't yet reached that point in his little life where sleeping is a good choice, we've also been up each of those mornings at around 7am... But here's Five Senses Sunday, in all it's painful, post Grand Final glory...

The sight of people (most dressed ready to support the Manly Sea Eagles) pouring into the Olympic Stadium, geared up for a big Grand Final!












The sound of the wall of noise that 81,000 crazed football fans can make on kickoff (also the sound of over half those fans booing Michael Crocker after he pulled a late tackle on Brett Stewart and knocked him rotten, and chanting "Off! Off! Off! Off!")






I'd like to tell you all about the taste of a hot footy meat pie, but I never did end up having one! Maybe I can say the taste of bitter defeat...

The smell of new car interior... We managed to trade our good ol' Corolla in on the weekend, buying our first real 'Mum & Dad' car, a white 2006 Subaru Forester. Pete's picking it up tomorrow, and I'll post a photo then.

And now, just to make me feel better - the feel of my knitting. I haven't picked up the sticks much over the long weekend, but here's what I'm up to in my 'Ines' Rowan Linen print top:


And, in other news: I just checked on my wait list status on Ravelry, and I'm only 215 people away from being invited! I can't wait! Just goes to prove after this weekend's disappointments, there's always something good going on in life...