Take a bit of advice from the experts

Last August, while on holiday in Vancouver, I wrote a post about the lovely yarn and buttons I had just scored to make the Enchanted Rock cardigan, designed by Jennette Cross.  Here is a photo of the cardigan:

7785209580_ea4e1b6750_b_medium2Although I was excited about the pattern and pleased to have been able to purchase the identical yarn (The Fibre Company Acadia in Strawberry and Amber), something else always managed to catch my knitting fancy and I never started the project.  A few days ago, while my brain was still on holiday (read my last post), I decided, rather foolishly, to cast this on.  I was met immediately with a simple road block.  The cardigan is knit from the top down, utilizing a provisional cast-on with the pink yarn.  I have of course used a provisional cast-on before, but not very often and truth be told, I couldn’t remember how to do it.  Well, as we all know, this is exactly why search engines were invented.

So, I searched for provisional cast-on and found tons of sites, all with detailed instructions for the many different techniques for making a provisional cast-on.  But, please recall dear reader, that my brain was gone; I looked at many different sets of instructions and they were beyond the capacity of my severely diminished reasoning.  And then, I found myself looking at this post by TECHknitting.  If you don’t know TECHknitting, you should.  This site is a veritable encyclopedia of knitting know-how.  The post starts with a description of what a provisional cast-on is (I love this! – she calls it “a casting-on designed to be taken out” – a totally brilliant and succinct description.)  The page ends with very detailed instructions.  In between, however, is the part that caught my eye.  I will quote it here in all it’s brilliance:

Q: Provisional cast on seems like a lot of trouble–is there another way? Yup, I think so. I myself hardly ever use a provisional cast-on. Instead, using waste yarn, I make a regular cast-on and knit a couple of extra rows. Next, I switch to the “real” yarn. When done, I snip one stitch of waste yarn, ravel it out, and there are loops of real yarn waiting to be picked up. These loops are nice to work with because they’re tensioned perfectly to the fabric. In other words, because the real yarn loops come from a couple of rows into the fabric, they aren’t distorted by the casting-on.

Even without a brain, I could see the advantage of this.  I just find some extra yarn (this being a not difficult task in my household) and cast on like I always do.  I don’t need to know how to do a provisional cast-on, or learn anything new.  So I did:

20130728_095325

The blue yarn is the little bit of scrap yarn I picked up around the house.  It will be cut off later, and the stitches will be slipped back on the needle so that I can knit the trim with the amber coloured yarn.  Fantastic!  Believe me: You will make your life so much easier if you take a bit of advice from the experts!

(I must, however, admit to you that I knit the first 8 rows of this cardigan 4 times, ripping out each time, growing more and more frustrated, before I figured out the pattern and got it right.  So it seems as if a brain is still a useful part of one’s knitting arsenal.)

20130728_095248

What to knit when your brain takes a holiday

My body might be going to work every day, but my brain is definitely on holiday.  It all started, in a predictable fashion, when I went on holiday with my family last month.  When you are on holiday it is a very good thing if your brain comes along for the ride.  Luckily, my brain cooperated and I spent a week in which I never thought about work.  The day we got back, we all came down with a ghastly bug, which meant we spent a week being truly, horribly ill and then two weeks being queasy, pale and shaky.  Unfortunately, work intruded on this time and I dealt with it as well as I could, but my brain decided it was still off-duty thank you very much. And this was followed by a heat wave which is now stretching into its second week.  I love the heat so am not complaining, but clearly my brain has used this opportunity  to put up a metaphorical “Off fishing” sign, and shows no intention of returning to duty any time soon.

When I packed for my holiday, I took far too much knitting.  I took my Neon cardigan, which was done except for the finishing, and I took the back of my Exeter cardigan, a densely cabled piece.  Both of these required more than the normal amount of concentration.  Why did I take them on holiday?  I am not sure.  I think I imagined sitting by the side of the pool with my feet up, gazing at the view and knitting.  What I didn’t realize was that when you go somewhere new (Lebanon) to visit family that you have never met, and furthermore, when that family runs into the hundreds of people, you don’t spend your time gazing at the view and knitting.  I loved absolutely every second of my holiday, and Lebanon is truly a wonderful, magical place, full of absolutely fantastic people.  It was not the place to take the kind of knitting that demanded concentration.

Luckily, at the very last minute (while the taxi was pulling up to the door), I threw a skein of Wollmeise Lace-garn into my bag, and printed out a copy of the pattern for Viajante, a shawl (of sorts) by Martina Behm.  This is the skein of wool:

IMG_6655

It is really a gorgeous blend of purples and blues which I had purchased at Knit Nation 2010 in London.  That venue, by the way, was the first time I had ever come into contact with Wollmeise yarn.  They had the most amazing display of wool that I have ever seen, before or since, and practically started a stampede by yarn buyers.  I kid you not; it had to be experienced to be believed.  While there, I purchased three skeins of Wollmeise Pure, and then couldn’t resist this skein of Lace-garn, even though I had no plans for it, and don’t often knit with laceweight yarns.

A skein of Lace-garn has 1591 metres per 300 gram skein.  My skein weighed in at 338, so it has even more.  (Wollmeise skeins are often generously overweight.)  Do you have any idea how long it takes to hand wind that many metres of laceweight yarn into a ball?  Answer: it takes a very long time.  Eventually, the whole family got into it.  Emma and I took turns winding while a number of cousins lent a hand.  (Note that this was done by the pool, in front of a lovely view.)

20130617_183912

20130617_190004

20130617_193831

Viajante is a completely gorgeous pattern.  It is a sort of a combination of shawl and poncho, and is a really clever, original design.  I loved it the minute I first saw the pattern on Ravelry.  Here are a couple of the pattern photos:

copyright Martina Behm

copyright Martina Behm

copyright Martina Behm

copyright Martina Behm

Even though I loved this pattern straight off, and even had the perfect yarn for it sitting in my stash, I still had no intention of ever making it.  This was for two reasons.  First, the idea of knitting this enormous shawl in laceweight in stockinette seemed like an act of torture.  Surely, I reasoned, it would take a year to knit and cause me to pull out all of my hair in the meantime.  Second, even though I think it is completely gorgeous I really couldn’t visualize myself actually wearing it.

Enter Rachel.  Rachel is a colleague of mine at the university, and the only one who knits.  She gave a talk a few months ago, and I went to hear it.  The talk was truly fascinating, but I must admit I could not keep my eyes off the Viajante shawl which she had just finished knitting, and which she wore to give her talk in, in an obvious ploy to make me jealous.  As soon as the talk was done, I ran up and asked her if I could touch it.  “Here,” she said, pulling it off, “Try it on!  I knew you would want to.”  I was completely smitten.  Would I wear this?  Absolutely.  I decided at that point that if I was ever insane enough to want to knit endlessly in stockinette with laceweight yarn, I would knit myself a Viajante.

Viajante can be worn as a poncho or as a shawl.  It is knit in a tube.  It is totally mindless knitting (and when I say that I really mean it – there are hundreds upon hundreds, maybe even thousands, of tiny, laceweight stitches on tiny needles knit in the round).  It is the perfect “my brain is on holiday and I can’t be bothered to think about anything” knitting.  You could knit this while sleeping if necessary.  You could definitely knit it while laughing and talking and eating fabulous food with hundreds of newly-met relatives.  You could also definitely knit it while recovering from the flu and barely hanging in there.  You could certainly knit it in 30+ degree heat with humidity, even while imbibing gin.

IMG_7248So, my friends, here you have it: what to knit when your brain takes a holiday.  Do yourself a favour and send your brain packing today.  You won’t regret it.

Knitting is my yoga

The weather has turned beautiful, the first prolonged hot summery spell since we arrived in the UK six years ago. In between enjoying the warmth and the sunshine, though, I have been crazy busy, both at home and at work.  That, combined with the flu which I am slowly recovering from, means that I have not been knitting.  In fact, I had a stretch of ten days in which I did not knit at all, not one stitch.  On the eleventh day, I was walking across campus from a meeting, heading back to my office.  I was feeling stressed out.  I was feeling really, truly, majorly stressed out.  As I said, I had been crazy busy and in fact had been at work until quite late three days in a row.  But, truth be told, the stuff I was busy with was not particularly stressful.  I decided to stop and have a coffee and soak up some sun.

As I sat there sipping my coffee, I could feel my knitting calling to me.  I always have a project with me, and I swear, I could almost hear it saying “Knit me!  You need me!  Come on now, just fifteen minutes!  DO it!”  I pulled it out, and as I sat there in the sun sipping my coffee and knitting, I could feel peace settling around my shoulders.  I could sense all of the stress just releasing and flowing away as my breathing slowed and my body relaxed.  I started to smile and really tune into my environment and enjoy the sunshine.  When, after fifteen minutes, I put my knitting away, all of the things I had been feeling stressed about just minutes earlier seemed to have shifted into an alternate reality.  They were all still there, but it was as if I had undergone a shift in perspective and nothing seemed overwhelming anymore.  Perhaps, I thought, I was feeling so stressed out BECAUSE I hadn’t been knitting.

I realized that I actually do need my knitting.  You see, some people do yoga.  Some people meditate  Some do gardening.  Some, who haven’t yet figured out their coping mechanism, self-medicate; they need a couple of gin and tonics when they get home to relax.  For me, knitting IS my yoga.  It makes me feel good.  It relaxes me.  It allows me to focus. That said, knitting outside on a warm summer evening WITH a gin and tonic can be pretty nice too…

IMG_7235