If It's Tuesday, We Must Be Knitting

One of the best things I did last year was to start a weekly knitting group at one of the local cafes.
At first, it was just me, knitting away, but I knew it was just a matter of time before others would join me and they did. Most weeks, we can fit around a table, but other times, the crowd overflows. Most of the faces are familiar, regulars from the monthly meetings of the Wild Woolly Women, but new ones keep popping up.

Marianne, the owner of the cafe, has been extremely supportive of our group. She is not a knitter--and we keep threatening to pin her down to teach her--but she owns a herd ofalpacas and sells her yarn in the shop.

Last month, a young mother with her three homeschooled youngsters started coming. Her children are only eight, six and four years of age, but they sit for an hour and work on their own projects. We love watching the progress they make from week to week, but I sense them watching ours, as well. The oldest, a girl, has fine rosewood needles that she received as a birthday gift and she looks so sweet as she knits along on her scarf. The oldest boy works with a pair of needles that he made himself from dowel rods. The points are nicely carved, not too sharp, and the ends are acorn caps. The youngest hasn't really shown an interest in knitting and he usually draws marvelous, colorful pictures. One our members is a retired school teacher and she loves to help them with their projects.

A Smalltown Christmas

Here are a few holiday scenes from the lovely little town where we live.

October Girl Wears February Lady

My February Lady is finished and here's a photo of Julie modelling it for me. This has been one of the best projects I've ever done and I wouldn't have made it at all if Marnie, from Frivolous Fibers hadn't had the sample in her shop. She used a cotton blend from Blue Heron and, although it was drop-dead gorgeous, I wasn't in the mood for another cotton project. When she showed me the Dream in Color Classy, it was all over. I was totally in love. I'd heard so much about DIC but had never seen it. I've never seen tonal colorways that were so lively. This one is called, Happy Forest, and it's really quite a bright green but the tones of blue in it keep it from looking like a four leaf clover.

The pattern was also a joy to work with.

Alpaca Lace

Recently, the girls from Stash and Burn reviewed "A Fine Fleece" by Lisa Lloyd and spoke very highly of the patterns, so when I was in one of the big bookstores, I decided to check it out. They were right. The patterns are of a traditional nature--lots of squarish sweaters with Aran type stitch details--and there were only one or two that I couldn't see myself making and wearing. I don't usually buy knitting books but I decided that this one was a good candidate for my library. Here's a photo of the lace scarf I just finished (but haven't blocked) from the book. It's made from the cream colored Suri that I purchased from the alpaca farm.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving was perfect. Except for one nephew, all of the family members were present for an amazing dinner made by my dear sister-in-law, Amy. Usually, Paul's mom works with Amy on the meal but this year she's recovering from knee replacement, so she sat on the sidelines and visited. It was great to see her doing so well and looking very happy. The big news this year was Emmitt, my niece's new puppy. Everyone was in love with him and it's easy to see why.

On Friday, Julie and I took a field trip to Furnace Mountain Alpaca Farm in Lovettsville, VA. We'd met the owner, Sharon, at Stitches and, when we realized that she was located so close

to Paul's mom's house, she invited us to come and visit. We learned that, although alpacas tend to be shy, hands-on training makes them more amenable

to visits from strangers. Sharon told us about the different kinds of fibers that each animal produced and that the nature of the fleece changes as the animals mature and produce young. Alpacas don't like to be petted on or about their heads like dogs do, so we "kneaded" the animals softly on their backs, noting how different each one felt. And, in case you think that only dogs do agility, Sharon took one of the adults through her paces on the obstacle course, which included stairsteps and a teeter-totter.


Afterwards, we purchased some alpaca yarn. I got a skein of super-soft Suri in creamy white and a coal black Suri blend, both of which will probably be used for lace scarves. Julie bought two skeins of a lovely cocoa color, also for a scarf. That's the kind of shopping we like to do on Black Friday!

November Lady

November Lady
Originally uploaded by pittepat

What a wonderful fall day it is! The past week has been grey, damp and dreary. I've been hoarding dry firewood on the porch so that I could have a fire in the stove during the evenings. It wasn't that it was very cold, mind you, but the fire made the house so cozy. When I woke this morning, the wind was raging outside, making a terrible racket. Assuming that I needed it, I layered on three shirts and grabbed the wool coat to do the dogwalk. Whew! When I opened the door, the wool coat was exchanged for a cotton jacket and by the time I'd gone two blocks, I realized I couldn't make the whole circuit dressed as I was. The trees have lost almost all their leaves so it looks like winter, but it feels like spring.

Accordingly, I decided to spend some time knitting on the porch. Right now, I'm working on a very popular cardigan pattern called, September Lady. (Ravelry lists almost 2000 projects for this design.) I had this on my queue but hadn't planned on starting it right now--of course, that's how the best things sometimes happen. I'm using a delightful yarn, Dream in Color, that I'd heard of but never seen. I discovered it at my favorite LYS, Frivolous Fibers. Marnie, one of the owners, showed me a sample of the February Lady that she'd made from one of the Blue Heron yarns. I wasn't in the mood to knit with any more cotton, so she pulled out the DIC. The colorways were wonderful--tonal blends that were still lively and distinct. Ordinarily, I would have gone right for the blue or lavender mixes, but there wasn't enough yardage in either, so I chose Happy Forest, a mix of emerald greens, greenish blues, and greenish yellows. So far, it's been sheer pleasure to work with both this pattern and the yarn. And, having a warm day to spend knitting on the porch--does it get any better than this?

Still More STITCHES

One of my favorite surprises of the day was meeting Kim Dolce from Dolce Hand Knits. I'd seen some of her sweaters on Jimmy Beans' website but seeing them in person took it to a whole new level. I love how she takes classic lines and makes them very contemporary with subtle design elements. Julie fell in love with a little capelet called, Linville (Why didn't we buy that?) and I'd already purchased the Montauk cardigan (which will be made using the Malabrigo worsted.) She was so charming and interesting to talk to, I could have hung around the booth all day.

One of the potentially most dangerous things we did at Stitches was to actually knit with Signature Needles. Julie had been complaining that her bamboo sock needles were bending and was on a mission to find an alternative. She purchased some metal needles but I worried that they were going to be too slippery for her taste--even as a beginner she preferred wooden needles. As we approached the Signature Needle Arts table, we spied some double points and the lady at the table invited us to try them out. Now I wish we hadn't. They were simply dreamy. All of the needles are made of hand polished aluminum with shiny, stiletto points--there just wasn't going to be any yarn splitting with these little guys. Of course, the price gave me pause--45$ While I believe that good tools are an investment, I also know how many dp's I've lost in my knitting life. I think I'm going to resist.

As the afternoon wore on, we both realized that we were feeling the effects of sensory overload--so many yummy yarns to touch, so many wonderful colorsways to see, and far too many ideas to process. We were exhausted and ready to head home.

Later, I thought about the day. All in all, it was a perfect day and I felt very fortunate to have had the opportunity to attend such an event. (Next year, it will be in Hartford, Conn. and I doubt I'll make the trip.) More than that, I felt blessed that I have a daughter that I could share it with. It wouldn't have been half so much fun without her. Man, I sure am glad I taught that kid to knit!

Totally in Stitches

What a lovely day we had at Stitches East! Scheduling conflicts prevented us from going on Friday, as I had originally planned but it worked out great. I'd been fearful that Sunday, which was the last day, would be, well, less fruitful, but I was wrong. Instead, we had light traffic coming into the city, we quickly found a good place to park, and there were no lines anywhere--even in the ladies' room! The vendors did seem to be a little tired, but everyone we met was friendly and eager to talk to us. Best of all, there still seemed to be an abundance of fibers and fiber-related goodies for us to admire and buy.

I went with a small list of things I wanted to scope out: Malabrigo worsted, Lanaloft, and Knitter's Blocks. Julie wanted to get metal size #1 needles and to experience lots of yarn. With the exception of Lanaloft, we got everything on the lists and then some.


One of the first thrills came when we realized we were in Lisa Souza's booth. I'd never seen her wool in person but the girls from the Stash and Burn podcast talk about it fairly often and now I know why. The colorways were dazzling. Lisa was very sweet and we got her hubby to take our picture. I felt like we'd just met a knitting star!

We went to WEBS, one of my favorite online sources. If their store is anything like their booth, I should never go there! They had soooo much wool and it was great to be able to see and touch some of the wools I've studied on their site. Also, the booth was well manned with several young folks who were not only very knowledgeable, but friendly and eager to help. Julie bought some Classic Elite Cotton Bamboo and I got my Malabrigo worsted. Probably because it was the last day of the show, there were only a few skeins of each color--not enough for an entire cardigan BUT there was an entire bag of the Bobby Blue, one of my favorites from the website. That's a sign, right? I had to get it. Kathy and Steve, the owners of WEBS, were working hard at the cash registers but they took a moment to pose for a photo. Thanks, guys!

From there, we went on to check out the Qiviut (Musk Oxen yarn,) the Mannings' amazing book selection, and a new product, Jelly Yarn--which we decided was best left untested. We also ran into Sanguine Gryphon, a fellow Eastern Shore resident and fabulous fiber artist, and waited breathlessly for the announcements of the door prizes. Did we win? Find out with tomorrow's post!

A New Boy to Love

A few weeks ago, I came across a picture of a cute pooch on the website of one of the local shelters. It looked so much like our little Fozzie, who passed last year, that I had to stop and look again. Shortly thereafter, Paul and I went to "interview" him and applied to adopt him. He's been with us for about a week now and, although having a second dog is fraught with challenges, I think this one is going to be a keeper. His name is Jack and he seems to be a mix of Lab, Schnauzer and Mexican jumping bean.
Miss Molly was, at first, very upset that she'd have to share her kingdom, but she seems to be coming around. Already, I have found them side by side, looking out the window in the living room. No one will ever replace Foz but it's nice to have another someone to love.

Home Again, Home Again

Ok, so I've been a long time gone and one of my readers--the one that I'm not related to--is said to have nearly swooned when she got a short email from me. Please forgive me. Anyone who knows me knows how self-absorbed I can be, but I apologize. I'll try to do better.

This weekend, Paul and I embarked on another of our two-wheeled adventures. We left Friday morning and drove to Arbovale, WVA, near Snowshoe Mtn. Resort, for a bit of riding in the mountains. The trip out was smooth and uneventful, which is just the way we like it. When we got into the hills, the temperature dropped significantly and before I knew it, I was thinking how I'd only packed one long sleeved tee shirt and no other jackets. Saturday morning was actually chilly but everything else was just perfect. The sky was a deep azure blue, spotted with puffy white cumulus clouds. I layered up with my rain jacket over my summer riding gear and we were good to go.

Our plan was to go to "The Hutte" in a little town called Helvatia. In the mid 1800's, a group of Swiss immigrants settled in the area because it was so much like their homeland. Today, it's still a "blink and it's gone" kind of place, but the thing is, if you stop, you'll find it's a little jewel out in the woods. (http://www.wvculture.org/history/wvhs1311.html) The Hutte is a family run restaurant in an old farmhouse, packed with antiques and historical memorabilia. It's a little like going to your grammy's house for dinner, minus all the emotional baggage. The food is all homemade, including the bread, the country sausage, and the cheese. If you ever go, share a sandwich and save room for the the homemade cobbler because it's the star of the menu and definately worth every calorie.



The ride home on Sunday was a bit more challenging. As we hit the interstate and rode into Virginia, it began to rain. I dislike riding in the rain, but that's a risk you run when you ride motorbikes. Besides, as my dear husband always says, that's what they make rainsuits for. I hunkered down behind Paul but I realized that this was not just a simple shower. It felt like we were being pelted by a barrage of frozen peas. Hailstones! All around us, cars were pulling over but we kept on going. I knew that stopping would do us no good, but it was unnerving to see so many others giving up. All I could do was pray for the best. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over.

I was ready for our adventure to be over but it wasn't--quite. When we stopped to rest and call home, the news was that traffic on the Bay Bridge was backed up for about 8 miles due to an early morning crash that sent an eighteen wheeler over the side and into the water. Fortunately, because the eastbound span--the site of the accident--opened up as we approached, the trip across only took us two hours more than it would have.

Thankfully, our little jaunts are usually much less episodic but I still love to come home. Last night, I was a whole lot happier than usual.

Knitting is the new yoga--huh?

Go on my Ravelry project list and you'll see that I've spent the entire summer working on knitted lace tops: Cece cardigan from Bonne Marie Burns (www.chicknits.com), Lotus Blossom Tank from Interweave Knits, and Hey Teach from Helene Rush (http://www.knitty.com/ISSUEsummer08/PATTheyteach.html.) None are particularly challenging but I've had my share of frustration knitting them, especially Hey Teach. I'll bet there's not 15 rows in the entire sweater that I haven't ripped out and reknit at least once! First, I realized, after having done most of the back section, that I was knitting the wrong size. Then, I had problems maintaining a consistent stitch count while doing the armhole shaping. When I got things going on the armhole, it occurred to me that I'd neglected to decrease for the neckline. After I ripped back (again) and did the neckline shaping, I did it on the wrong side (talk about feeling stupid!)

About that time, I saw an old article somewhere that claimed that, "knitting was the new yoga." HA! I scoffed. "Whoever wrote that couldn't have known how to knit or do yoga," I thought. When I do yoga, I come away with a satisfied, even feeling that has absolutely no relationship to the awful tightness that I'd been feeling in my neck. Knitting is NOT the new yoga.

Something told me it was time to walk away for awhile.

A few days later, I was extolling the benefits of yoga to a co-worker. I heard myself saying, "By concentrating on your breath, you forget about everything else. It keeps you focused on the pose and how your body feels while doing it." Suddenly, I thought of my sweater and I got it.

My knitting problems were all about focus. Every stitch I'd made was only a step toward a glorious future that I'd imagined for those sweaters: how cute they'd be, how I'd love wearing them, and, oh yes, how many many compliments I'd get when I wore them. It was like I was a runner, just willing myself toward the finish line so that the race would be over. I'd completely forgotten about how the yarn felt as it slipped through my fingers and the sheer joy of creating a fabric with each stitch. It was as if I'd done my yoga practice while holding my breath.

So, here's the deal. I still disagree that knitting is the new yoga--that's just Madison Avenue jibber jabber. Good knitting, like good yoga, is all about the present. I'm going to go back to my knitting and I'm just going to concentrate on each stitch and row. Sooner or later, it might even turn into a sweater!

Memorial Day Musings

To many, Memorial Day is more about the first days of summer, about pools opening and the traffic on the Bay Bridge. For most of my life, that's what it meant to me, too.

As a child, I knew that my father had been a soldier. His left hand was missing the index finger and the middle finger bore the signs of having been repaired with a skin graft. On his stomach, there was a square scar where the skin for that graft had been removed. I have a vague memory of my father telling me that he'd lost his finger, "in the war." So, I took for granted that all fathers had been to war and I didn't see any reason why that fact was special.

That is, until my father died.

At the memorial service, one of his army buddies remembered him as a "good soldier." Afterwards, he sent me a newspaper article that he'd written about his own wartime experiences. It described the firefight in which my father had been shot in the hand while manning a machine gun. I read the paragraph over and over. I think it was the first time that I truly considered the magnitude of my father's experience. Too late, I realized how awful it must have been for the young man who would later become my father.

Recently, I watched Ken Burns' film about WWII. It made me so sad. I saw my father in every battle--one of many, many young men who had answered a call to defend their country from an enemy they'd never seen. The veterans who were interviewed spoke candidly about the war. They described the horror of seeing their friends die and about the fear that they too, would soon be killed. One wept as he talked about how different he felt when he returned home.

So my feelings about Memorial Day are now very different. Perhaps it is the one day that I think about my father the most. There is sadness because he is gone and some questions will never be answered but there is also a certain pride in knowing that he played an important part in history. He was a good soldier.

A Sweet Treat

Today was my day off and I spent it, as I often do, doing some knitting while listening to a book on my iPod. Molly was sleeping soundly on the bed and I was so absorbed that we failed to notice that the UPS man had paid us a visit. Ordinarily, Molly lets the entire neighborhood know when he comes but today, she snored through it all. When I went out on the porch for the mail there was a huge box from King Arthur Flour company. Recently, I'd shared with one of my longtime friends that I've often thought of getting one of their donut baking pans and for a birthday surprise, she ordered me a whole boatload of donut baking goodies: a pan, donut mix, various sugar toppings, icing mix, even a little teddy bear sugar shaker. It was so lovely!

I thought I'd wait til after dinner to make donuts for hubby and me, but I didn't make it so, behold...my sweet trip to the holey land.

Rug Hooking Workshop

Those who know me are often quicker to identify me as a "hooker" than a knitter because knitting is not my only fiber related passion. Years ago at a county fair, I encountered a wonderful lady who made incredible rugs from strips of woolen fabric and she taught me the gentle art of traditional rug hooking. Since then, I have studied with some of the best rug hooking artists in the country and this past week, I attended a workshop with another of them, Sue Hamer.

Here are two of the original works that she share with us as she taught about the use of color.

Springtime brings flowers and also...

Last fall I enthusiastically began the Central Park Hoodie from IK's Fall '07 issue. The weather was getting cooler and, as I knitted, I thought about how warm the new sweater was going to be. The project took me into the winter and then got kicked to the back burner by Christmas knitting. Now, as the weather has begun to change again, poor CPH remains as it was and probably nothing short of October frost warnings will move it forward.

Now, I've become enamored with cotton yarns. Once before, I tried to make a spring sweater with cotton. The yarn was a good 100% cotton and the colorway was Delft blue and white. I'd looked forward to the project, a classic crew neck pullover with short sleeves and I should have enjoyed making it but I didn't. I disliked how the fabric hung. It felt limp and lifeless, like a dishcloth. I realized that what I missed was everything I loved about wool--its bounce, its spring, it's memory. I abandoned the project and gave the yarn away. From that point on, I knitted only with wool. That is, until Sheldon came along.

The designer of the Sheldon pattern recommended Knitpicks Shine Sport, which is a blend of washable pima cotton and Modal. It wasn't as lively as wool, but the knitted fabric was soft and somewhat spongy, with a hint of shine and I was surprised at how nice it was to work with.


Now I'm working with Cascade Cotton Rich DK and giving it another shot. This yarn is 2/3 cotton and 1/3 nylon. It doesn't have as much memory as the Shine Sport but it's very soft and I love how bright the white is. I'm using the basic guidelines from 1000 Sweaters, by Amanda Griffiths. The book breaks down the basic sweater into components and you can choose which sleeve, collar, pocket and neckline finish you want. I'm making a short sleeved cardigan with a band of double eyelets up the front and back. I'll probably finish it off with a ribbed band up the front and around the neck, but I'd really like to do some kind of collar. The problem is that all the collars in the book are knit separately and sewn on--who wants one more seam to sew? I think I'll try to pick up the stitches around the neck and play around with a polo collar, or even a little hood. Who knows?



And, speaking of springtime flowers, here's a photo of our little Molly sitting among the forsythias.

An Easter Secret Revealed

I've been dying to post about my latest project but couldn't because it was to be a gift for my daughter, Julie, who, bless her heart, reads my blog. (Hey, Toots!) So, here finally, he is. His name is Sheldon and the pattern is available from Knitty. When the pattern was first published, I remember seeing it but thought nothing more of it. (Have we heard this story before?) This is surprising, because I have an affinity for turtles--after all, the terrapin is the official State Reptile for my home state and the mascot for the University of Maryland, which is my alma mater...and my husband's...and my Mother-in-Law's...and, most recently, the aforesaid daughter's. How did I miss this? Anyway, I saw the completed Sheldon in my local yarn store and it was love at first sight. One of the owners had knit it and taken the pattern one step further by implanting a music box in his head. Of course, I had to make one. I chose a recordable music unit and downloaded a few bars of Van Morrison's "Brown-Eyed Girl" since that's what I used to sing to Julie when she was a babe in arms. I never imagined I would ever be knitting a turtle! It was such fun and not very difficult at all. The hardest part was not telling Julie what I was working on.

Rantings from a Yahoo Groupie

I have a long list of crafty things that I like to do and for every hobby, I am a member of at least one corresponding Yahoo group. My favorite, of course, is the knitting group. I call it "Knitting 911" because they always seem to come to my rescue when I knit myself into a corner. I'm amazed at the graciousness of the many knitters who take the time to offer assistance to anyone who asks a question. I read it every day and I'm constantly learning new things about knitting.

This morning, I didn't get past the first post. One member had apparently put together a pattern for special socks for those who are prone to foot problems and offered it free of charge on her blog. She asked that the pattern be for personal purposes and, should anyone want to sell socks made from it, that they ask permission first. Most of the related posts were from other members who had a question or who expressed appreciation for the free pattern. Everyone was playing nice until someone posted that the disclaimer was inappropriate because the pattern was simply a composite of "generic elements" of sock knitting and that we shouldn't get too involved in copyright issues, lest we, as knitters, "take ourselves too seriously."

Excuse me? Too seriously?

Part of me was already dragging out the soapbox. (Ok, in my house it's a library kick-stool, but it still serves the same purpose.) Personally I don't think that knitters take themselves seriously enough, but suppose they did? Would the streets be filled with wild eyed, crazy women (mostly) waving needles and wrapping policemen in merino yarn? Would we see the rise of two new political parties--the Pickers and the Throwers? Perhaps the airlines would prohibit anyone without knitting needles from flying!

Ok, ok, enough already, but I do think that knitters are like other crafters in that we don't give ourselves much value for what we do. Our community boasts its own big names but do we call Norah Gaughan and Cat Bhordi, "artists?" Certainly, few of us call ourselves, "artists" or even, "artisans." So what if the Tilted Duster never makes it to a museum unless someone wears it--does that mean it's not an incredible artistic accomplishment?

I'm getting a little carried away here, I know. I'm just suggesting that when someone asks you what you do, you say something like, "Oh, I'm a fiber artist." We are artisans. We practice a skilled craft and many of us practice at a highly skilled level. Let's take ourselves seriously!

Frankly, Scarlett...

Even as a little girl, I remember saying that my favorite color was red and yet, I have no recollection of any red clothes or red toys and certainly, no red shoes Nowadays, it's very different. I have all sorts of red clothes, a red car and yes, many red shoes but indulging my passion for the fiery hue in the sphere of knitting has not been all that easy. I'm very picky about which shade of red I want--it has to be clear and blue-based, without any undertones of orange or brown. So, if I'm able to find red yarn at all, it's usually the wrong red. (I know I drive yarn shop owners crazy but, goshdarnit, I'm old, so I get to be picky.)

Lately, I've been very lucky. I wandered into my favorite shop, Frivolous Fibers, last month and found exactly the right shade of red in Cascade 220. I'd been thinking about making a beret to match my favorite coat and eureka! There it was! Then, while I was about to leave, a skein of Blue Heron Metallic Rayon, also the right red, called out my name. Then it whispered, "Clapotis." Oh, I wanted to cast on for both projects before I left the parking lot but I do a lot better at driving if I don't try to knit at the same time.

At home, I took some time to check out the projects on Ravelry. The Ravelry folks have done so much to bring the knitting community closer together. I'm still learning my way around the site, (where I'm, "Pittepat" ) but it's become an invaluable tool 'in my knitting bag.' Sometimes I just wander, looking at what others have knit. As such, it can be an incredible black hole--time just gets sucked away. When I search for patterns that I'm fantasizing about, however, it really keeps me from having to reknit the wheel. Some members just post photos of their projects with specific details, which wool they used, the size they chose, etc, and even the most minimal information can be helpful. I looked for photos of a pattern called, "Gretel." I found that the hats that I liked the best were in Cascade 220 and I knew that I'd purchased enough yarn to complete the project. Others write a little note about their experiences and that's when you've hit paydirt. Among the Gretel knitters, there seemed to be a consensus that the slouchy version was a bit too much. Others mentioned that the band, as per the directions, came out too big. So, right there, I was ahead of the game. I decided to knit the regular version and I opted not to cast on using the specified tubular cast on, because I wanted less stretch in the band. In the end, I ended up casting on in the size needles stated in the pattern but I knit the band in one size smaller. After blocking the hat, I realized that the band is still a tiny bit too loose, but it's still very wearable.




Here's the finished hat. I used Ysolda Teague's pattern, Gretel. I loved this pattern the minute I saw it. The intertwining cables give it a Celtic look. While I find the act of knitting cables undaunting, I think that designing complex patterns, like this one, is an amazing feat.






As for the Clapotis , I saw the pattern when it was first published in Knitty but it didn't push any of my buttons. Suddenly, it seemed that everywhere I went, people were talking about this fantastic pattern. So, I reconsidered. Willie, at the yarn store knew the pattern and said the Rayon Metallic would be perfect so I went for it. I must say that now I love the scarf but knitting it was hell, primarily because I only had metallic needles. The rayon doesn't have any memory at all and, besides creating a looser fabric than I wanted, the stitches slid right off the needles. I didn't want to go back to the store for wooden needles, so I wound up working with my Denise needles. They proved to be a fair solution to both problems. The other reason the project was so difficult was that it's knit on the bias and almost every row has a different stitch count. The problem was compounded by the need for oh, so many stitch markers. I kept losing track of my place and ripping the whole thing out. I think I started over at least 15 times, if not more. Part of me wanted to throw the thing across the room but the other, fiercely stubborn part of me said I couldn't give up. Again, the Internet came to the rescue. I googled for the pattern and found a knitalong. I discovered that I wasn't alone in my struggle with the stitch counts and that someone had created a spreadsheet with stitch counts for each row. Others suggested that, instead of using stitch markers, a purl stitch served the same purpose. After that, it was just me and my knitting.

How did I ever finish anything before I found the Internet?

Wild Wooly Women

About three years ago I started a knitting group when a new coffee shop opened up in our town and the owner agreed to host the meetings. At first, the group was hit or miss and, after the first year, I considered letting it go. Fortunately, another member, Carolyn, offered to facilitate the meetings and thanks to her organizational skills and perseverance, Wild Wooly Women is thriving. We now rotate meetings among the members' houses and usually there are about 8 or 9 members in attendance, sometimes with a guest or two. Last night, a member of the hostess' family decided to join us. Normally, we were told, she is more reserved and not inclined to visit with strangers. However, she must have sensed that knitters love furry folks because she made herself part of the group immediately. She even expressed an interest in knitting.

I just love this group. For the most part, I suppose we are a homogeneous bunch, women of 40+ years of age with grown families, brought together by a common interest in the art of handknitting and yet, I'm surprised by the way we have grown into a little family. Each month, I look forward to seeing each one and, when one is absent, it feels "not right" until they return. One of the original members moved, during the first year and I still feel the loss; another will be moving to North Carolina and I know I will miss her (and her snappy wit) when she leaves. But, hopefully, we will go on, if only better for having known and loved the ladies in question. That's what families are supposed to do.

Casting On

Herman Melville wrote: We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibers, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects.

My love affair with the color, texture, and manipulation of fibers began very young. At age five, my mother gave me one of those spool things and a hank of variegated Red Heart yarn. I loved seeing each color blend into the next but the knitted cord, which we now call i-cord, served very little purpose, as far as I could see. My mother said you could sew the cord into a round rug, but I had no interest in rugs at that point in my life. I was more interested in dolls and stuffed animals. So, Mom taught me to knit and I began to knit little scarves and vests for my inanimate friends. Shortly after that, she taught me to crochet and, in junior high school, to sew. Looking back, I think it's interesting that, although she passed on so many handcrafts to me, she never seemed to do much of them herself. I'm sure, it was a matter of time. She was a devoted full-time housewife and, like many of her generation, she put her own needs at the bottom of a list that never ended. Later, after the kids were out on their own and my father had retired, she returned to the art of crochet and she made many colorful baby blankets for grandchildren and afgans for their parents.

In college, I began to knit in earnest. Scarves gave way to simple crew necks and then to complex Aran knit cardigans and jackets. Recently, I found a fisherman knit sweater that I made for my husband before we married. (No one told me about the Sweater Curse and it didn't work against me.) It was made from heavy Irish wool and I remember what a joy it was to knit. The unprocessed wool was full of natural lanolin and it made my hands silky smooth when I worked with it. When it was finished, it was a source of great pride. Unfortunately, it was so heavy that he wore it only once. I stashed it away in a cedar chest and forgot about it. Last month, when I was looking for handknit garments to show my beginning knitters' class, I found it. Husband-in-question, Paul, saw it too and, before I knew it, he was wearing it while he worked on his computers in the unheated attic. Thirty-odd years later, it still fits.

To the business of blogging, I never thought I would want to do it. The more caustic part of my nature always asked, "What makes you think others want to share your thoughts?" However, I have read many great blogs--mostly about knitting. I have learned new things, enjoyed interesting stories, and been given much to consider. Having spent so many years as a solitary knitter, I realized that it could be an enriching group activity and, as such, the internet serves as the vehicle to bring us all together for just that purpose. So, here I am! Add "Blogger" to my resume.