Last spring, I set out to knit a pullover sweater for Sylvia. I had a few balls of Noro New Ruby in a vibrant (but not blinding) color, but the yarn had been discontinued years ago, and there was no way I’d have enough for the whole sweater. So I used the New Ruby for the sleeves and solicited advice for what to do about the body.
From the many very excellent suggestions I received I opted for Gina’s idea of using a solid Dale of Norway fingering-weight yarn. She even gave me the yarn for my birthday—two balls of purple, and two balls of light forest green. I finished up the sweater during the summer, opting for a simple boatneck at the top so the sweater would be reversible. (Aw, who am I kidding? Purple-crazy Sylvia will always choose to wear purple in the front…) Since it was high summer when the sweater was completed, it went right into a drawer. A few weeks ago it emerged as temperatures started to dip, though, and now it’s Sylvia’s sweater of choice.
A finished object? And one that a three-year-old actually chooses to wear? Wow.
Turn old bedsheets into yarn. This tutorial has great pictures and clear instructions to make the whole process look easy-peasy.
Turn old newspapers into yarn. This method does require a spindle…
Recycle old sweaters (from your closet or thrift stores, for example) by taking them apart and using the yarn for something else. This site shows you how to take them apart, and this site has a PDF for a generic ball-band you can customize for your new(ly reclaimed) yarn.
The CSA season ended two weeks ago. Here are pictures of our last three pick-up boxes. It still feels weird not to be going to the farm on Wednesday afternoons. It was sort of like getting a surprise present each week. I knew I’d be getting a box, but I didn’t know what would be in it. Sometimes the contents were familiar friends (”Oh. Green beans. Again.”), and sometimes they were completely unexpected (”Ooooh! A jar of local honey!”).
As you can see, the green beans that filled our box during most of the summer gave way toward the end to winter squash and cauliflower. A lot of cauliflower. And cabbage. Now, I like cauliflower and cabbage just fine, but only in small amounts. And I certainly don’t need to be getting ginormous heads of cabbage and cauliflower four weeks in a row. Seriously—it was far more than my family could handle. Fortunately, I was able to give some away to neighbors.
But I don’t want to have to give food away to my neighbors. I mean, I like sharing with them, and when my garden veggies are growing like gangbusters I love to spread the wealth around. But we put down a fair chunk of change for this CSA. I’m not saying it wasn’t a fair price, considering the amount of food we got. But we ended up getting a lot of stuff we didn’t like—and a lot of stuff we just couldn’t keep up with.
I’m doubtful that we’ll do the CSA again next year. (If we do, it will be only if we can split a share with one or maybe two other families.) The food guilt is just too great. I hate opening up my fridge and seeing, say, eggplant staring at me and thinking, “We paid for that eggplant, so we should use it” but dreading the prospect of eating eggplant (we tried a few new recipes over the summer, and we still don’t like it). I’d just avoid the eggplant and try not to make eye contact with it, and after a while it would start to turn into a science experiment and wind up in our compost bin.
I don’t like wasting food—and I don’t like prepaying for lots of stuff I won’t be willing or able to eat. So next year we will probably rely on farmers’ markets for most of our produce. Fortunately, there’s a new one on Wednesday afternoons, just a couple of miles up the road from the CSA farm.
So those purple coneflowers I wrote about a few days ago? Brown and whithered the day after I posted that picture. In a “holy shit, winter is almost here” the trees all dropped the rest of their leaves, which then went into bags for the compost-truck pickup. (Our three-bin composter is huge, but we can cram only so many leaves in there.) A hard frost three days ago burst the cells in the Swiss chard remaining in the garden, so now it’s all sad and droopy. And yesterday we woke up to the first snowfall of the season.
After Sylvia came home from school, we suited up and went outside to play. Jan was working from home yesterday, which was very fortunate. Daddies wearing slippery nylon parkas make great sleds for three-year-olds.
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We threw snowballs, built this “castle” (at Sylvia’s insistence), and had a lot of fun. A huge grin spread over Sylvia’s face when she remembered our family’s post-play-in-the-snow tradition: having homemade hot chocolate inside afterward. Before we went back in for this treat, though, she just had to make a snowman.
When I haven’t had a “real” stitch marker handy, I usually just use a tied-off loop of different-colored yarn. (Most knitters have done something like that at one time or another, I thnk.) Here’s a variation on that theme, using twine and little wooden beads.
For on-the-go knitting, make a “knit kit” (a modified plastic water bottle), complete with handmade needles that are just the right length.
Cardboard boxes used for filing magazines are also great for organizing yarn.
Scientists have identified all sorts of benefits to drinking wine. Obviously none of those scientists are knitters, otherwise surely one of them would’ve figured out that wine corks made great point protectors for knitting needles.
Don’t have a ball winder? Use a cardboard tube instead!
And finally, here’s a great tip for keeping your straight needles easily identifiable/sortable without having to stow them in separate pockets in a needle roll or something similar: color-code the tips.
I’ve decided to suspend my outrage at the USPS temporarily. I figure they deserve a one-day reprieve for bringing me some goodies in the mail today.
First up, a trio of books from Two Pointy Sticks. She held a poetry-writing contest three weeks ago, and I think she fell and hit her head or something because she actually liked what I wrote and chose me as one of the winners. I got to choose my prize from among a list of books she was getting rid of and opted for two Harmony stitch guides. No sooner had I responded to her e-mail with my choice when she wrote back saying, “Oh, would you like to have another book, too?” So this lovely Jo Sharp book hitched a ride in the padded envelope to my house.
Getting something in the mail that isn’t a bill or junk mail? Wonderful. Getting knitted-related mail? Oh, so very sweet indeed. Thanks so much, Rooie!
So I’m sitting on our driveway, going through rest of the mail while watching Sylvia scoot along on her scooter, when the mail carrier actually comes back to my house with some stuff he neglected to drop off earlier. (He is not our usual mail carrier. Our usual mail carrier, Catherine, is awesome. And she runs marathons.)
Along with the weekly sales circular (ugh, I hate those things—mine goes straight into the recycling bin) there was a big envelope from…Deborah! She was my downstream secret pal in SP11 last fall, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. She’s a very talented knitter and a great sewer, too. And look what she made for me: this beautiful knitting bag (with a gorgeous solid green lining). And see how the zipper pull matches the stitch markers she also sent? Awesome.
Two gifts in one day: one expected, one unexpected. Okay, USPS, I’ll let you off the hook for now. But tomorrow, you’re going back on my shit list.
Today be Talk Like a Pirate Day!
In honor of the occasion, here’s the famous We Call Them Pirates hat. I’ve been wanting to knit this for a while and finally tackled it this summer—my very first Fair Isle project ever.
For the body of the hat, I used some Dutch worsted yarn that I bought on my last trip to the Netherlands. For the lining, I used some worsted cotton I had on hand.
I really enjoyed knitting this hat and plan to try this pattern again. I’d make a few changes next time, though. First, I definitely need to make the hat a little larger—it’s a bit too snug on an average-sized head. Second, I think I’ll follow Elizabeth Zimmerman’s instructions for knitting a lining (no need to use a smaller needle, just decrease your stitches 20% on the first row) rather than the ones given.
Don’t forget to find out your pirate name!
Me? I’m Dirty Mary Flint: “You’re the pirate everyone else wants to throw in the ocean — not to get rid of you, you understand; just to get rid of the smell. Like the rock flint, you’re hard and sharp. But, also like flint, you’re easily chipped, and sparky. Arr!”
“Arrrrrrr!” indeed!
Halloween is around the corner, so start knitting up some pumpkins with a pattern than works with any yarn, gauge, and needles you like.
After that, it’s time for Thanksgiving. And really, what is Thanksgiving without turkey finger puppets?
If you’re trimming a tree, don’t forget your own handknit-and-felted Flying Spaghetti Monster ornament. And if you’re not a tree decorator, well, I’m sure this little fellow can fit in just about anywhere.
Here’s another tree-trimming idea: knit mini-mittens. I bet they would look cute hanging from an I-cord across the top of a window, too.
The Jingles Bells hat comes in sizes to fit infants through adults, so you can torture delight everyone you know with the gift of festive headgear.
If you’re feeling particularly sadistic, whip up a knitted baby Santa suit and stuff a defenseless infant in it before he or she is told enough to resist.
Looking for something to ward off the evening chill? Or to keep you warm in ridiculously over-air-conditioned offices, restaurants, and stores?
If you’re feeling ambitious, try your hand at knitting this stunning Moebius wrap. The pattern is in German, but the author has very kindly provided an English translation.
The evening shrug at the Purl Bee takes simple stockinette and jazzes it up with some lacey trim at the wrists. The bamboo yarn originally used has a lovely sheen that definitely dresses up this piece.
The typical scarf shape (long, skinny rectangle) gets some texture in this gathered scarf. I’m not sure if my mother-in-law would be keen on it, but I think the bumpiness has definite appeal for lots of other people.
If you prefer a scarf that’s more wispy than substantial, look at the Nymphadora Scarf.
I’ve knit the Irish Hiking Scarf three times. The cabling isn’t challenging—just three easy ones that run the length of the scarf—so doing it without a cable needle sounds like something I could handle. Grumperina has lovely photo tutorials on it, for both the right-twisting and left-twisting varieties.
Last spring, I set out to knit a pullover sweater for Sylvia. I had a few balls of Noro New Ruby in a vibrant (but not blinding) color, but the yarn had been discontinued years ago, and there was no way I’d have enough for the whole sweater. So I used the New Ruby for the sleeves and solicited advice for what to do about the body.
