I finally got some free space to consolidate all the Brown Sheep Lamb's Pride that is distributed throughout the apartment. Look at the pretty red worsted weight! It will get knit up... someday. Half of it was bought in Asheville, NC, and half at Yarniverse in Memphis, TN, during a long roadtrip two summers ago, in weather that was driving folks away from wool in droves. Lucky me! I was able to find enough for my project in the SAME DYELOT. For some reason I am still full of glee when I think of this small victory. Another small victory is reducing the number of knit-shop plastic bags full of yarn that tumble everywhere when I open my closets. I'd rather they chill out in nicely stackable yarn-tubs. So I continue to Bust Stash as much as I can, but it doesn't stop the occasional yarnshop visit.
This shot, full of action and excitement, shows not only my finished Backyard Leaves shot providing actual warmth, but also my hand eagerly feeling up yet more Lamb's Pride. Backyard Leaves, as a scarf, is highly effective in that the yarn is super-warm, if a bit rougher than the sweet merino and romney wools that we handknitters have gotten used to. It is also highly textured, a pretty color, and about six feet long... probably longer. When I hold one end and drop the rest to the floor, and stretch my arm as high as it will go... the scarf is still longer. It is, however, a narrow scarf, and in my opinion, is best worn as shown in the book and here, doubled over.
How effective a Stash-Buster was this project? Here's how much yarn was leftover when the last stitch was tied off. You be the judge!
Not one to rest on her FO-laurels, I continue to chug away at more knitty things to wear. (I would be knitting more, but I'm reading Margaret Atwood's The Blind Assassin, which is sucking up all my spare time and attention.) I have knit the yoke of Lack of Safety Culture, split for the sleeves, and begun knitting one sleeve. (By the way, if you enter "lack of safety culture" in an internet search engine, you may be surprised at how many results you get. Apparently that dorky phrase has been around for years, although I had only heard it in reference to the security of airports in third-world countries. I would personally say that the US seems to lack a safety culture as well, despite its eagerness to put on appearances to the contrary. I think that's the key though, the people in charge only seem to care if it "appears" that they care about certain things. Anyway, back to the knitting.)
One might think I'd be happily knitting away on Mr. Sleeve, round after round, gaily following my pattern, but think again: I have no pattern. While my sweater will probably come out looking like knitty's Samus (a name which shall NOT be pronounced like "Seamus"!!), the making of the two seems to be more different than I had originally thought. The gauge is just different enough to squig the numbers of the printed pattern, and the cable pattern is actually NOT the one I've decided to use. Oh well. It could have been so easy, but no, which is too bad, because the pattern seems to be written well.
So I have decided to knit the cabley cuffs in order to determine my number and rate of decreases down the sleeve, so that when I get to the end of the sleeve, its circumference shall (I hope) match the circumference of the cabled cuff. Much finger crossing here. I'm doing the same trick for the body of the sweater, as I can be satisfied with a 36" bust but do not want so much fabric around my middle. (It will make me look pregnant. I know I'm gaining weight but I'm not up to any more pregnant-jokes, thank you.)
The knitting of the cabled parts is somewhat nostalgic for me, on two counts. First, the green aluminum needles you see, each weighing about five pounds, are the FIRST needles I ever bought EVER EVER! I learned to knit on those puppies. I don't think I've used them since. It's like discovering that you DO still have that Def Leppard shirt you used to wear every day in seventh grade... ah, an old friend. Second, the cable pattern I am using is the same one featured in my brother's wedding afghan, which is the first cabled project I ever made, and also the project for which I learned to knit in the first place. (What? He's my brother, he deserves something special!) Even though it's been a few years, my fingers apparently still remember instinctively the way the cables flow, probably because I only repeated the motif a million times to make the 5'x7' afghan. The good part is that I don't have to use a cable needle this time, which makes things go more quickly, with fewer pointy things to worry about. :)
1 comment:
oooooh, look at the pretty tweed yarn! i touched it when you weren't looking, and it's soooo soft too!
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