Start at the top – Starmore’s class was terrific.

I had got the impression from the internet, long ago, that she was bad-tempered and suspicious of the world. None of that was in evidence. The class was perfectly planned, prepared, presented. Alice Starmore doesn’t tell her pupils to stop talking (a problem of Annie M.’s) – we are all busy with our swatches, listening and looking and talking, occasionally, to her.

I even finished my swatch the next day. I wouldn’t do that for just any teacher. I wonder if I have photographed it upside down.




The lesson ended smartly 15 minutes before it was scheduled to. I was briefly miffed, but then realised that what she was doing was allowing time for us to talk to her one-to-one. As several people wanted to do. The next session followed very shortly – if she had gone on to the scheduled end, she would have had to shoo us unceremoniously out of the door. I took a picture of her during that period – this is the best of a not-very-good bunch.




I would have liked to ask her my question, but it was completely irrelevant to the topic of the day and probably unanswerable anyway, even by her. It is this: I extravagantly admire her Stillwater pattern. I tried to knit it, and gave up after several inches because the usual rhythm of Fair Isle patterns is completely absent -- I couldn’t get my head around the 18-stitch repeats. Is there a technique?

Getting it out to scan it just now has rekindled my enthusiasm. Maybe I should try the pattern on a hat.
I then had a nice (but slightly lonely) time wandering around the market. I bought Lily Chin’s cable book, which seemed appropriate to the theme of the day and which looks very thorough. And some yarn – well, I almost had to:


I had already decided that I would proceed next (sock-wise) to Matt’s socks, and that I would need to buy yarn. I had only 100 grams of the yarn I intended for the purpose, and that’s not enough for a full-sized gent. So instead of seeking out another ball – wrong dye-lot – of the yarn I already had, I bought 200 grams of a different yarn – expensive socks – and have made a good start, as you see, on the actual thing.

(Alas, I can't seem to make Tickerfactory work any more. Does anyone know an alternative?)

(Hellie came round on the Saturday evening. I told her what I was up to, and explained about the Curse of Knitting for the Boy Friend and how I had taken expert advice and was completely reassured. She thought it was all rather funny, and that Matt will like the socks.)

The yarn is Artist’s Palette “Smoothie Sock”. My one is very like the top illustration, except browner rather than greener. It’s a good deal darker than it appears in my own snapshot. Wonderfully soft. I had sort of hoped that Posh might be there, but she wasn’t.

I’ve finished Helen’s KF socks, except for ten minutes of actual finishing, which I had better put in this evening. Kaffe’s stripes and Oliver shaping and Knit Pic needles bring us as close as we’re likely to get to the self-knitting sock.

Comments

Lisa, (comment yesterday), the Games are awfully boring; the Queen is as old as my husband, although apparently in slightly better nick; and all the things that make the day fun for us, are denied to Royals – seeing old friends, and having a drink with them from the back of their car or ours; running a race or joining in Tilt the Bucket or the Pillow Fight, or cheering on a relative who’s doing it; having a look at the Home Industries Tent in the hopes that Neighbour G. hasn’t won anything for baking this year; trying, once more, to come top at Musical Cars.

Braemar comes right after us – they must be down for the First Saturday in September. We saw the Queen arriving there on the news last night. The commentator said that Queen Victoria started the tradition, and the family is now stuck with it.

I don’t know anything about the Queen in 3-D. I don’t think I’ve heard any mention of such a thing. I went to a 3-D movie in NY close to 60 years ago and was sick afterwards and have stayed well clear since.

Maureen and Theresa, I am happy to be corrected on the matter of Meg’s teaching. I remember Amy Detjen from Camp Stitches on Lake George in ’99. I don’t think she was teaching, more like Head Counsellor. A tower of strength and good cheer. Amy is very tall, and strongly built, but that praise is meant without irony, metaphorically.

I think she later parted from the X’s rather acrimoniously – I must have read that on the Internet somewhere – and I am happy that her subsequent history has turned out so well. A tower of strength for Meg.

Life

We’re going to London this week. On Tuesday. I’m not looking forward to it, although it will be grand to be with Rachel and her family. My husband is not really up to it, and my role as facilitator gets progressively harder. The effort is no doubt good for him. Rachel, despite working full time and hosting language students at home, does all she can and much more than could be expected, in the way of driving us about.

We’re going right now in order not to miss the “Fakes” show at the National Gallery, which is about to go off. I’ll enjoy that myself, once we get there. And the Vatican tapestries at the V&A are about to go on, so we’ll see those too.

And I will press on with vigour at Helen’s second sock. I got an inch or so done yesterday, sitting in Waverley Station waiting to buy our tickets. I have even presumed to put the ball of Lang Jawoll I showed you the other day in my knitting bag, in the hopes of starting Matt’s socks.

Knitting

I have passed the half-way point of the 8th scallop on Helen’s Amedro shawl. The 8th is one of the big ones – the full 48 rows. There was a mini-crisis yesterday when a dropped stitch involved frogging, but all is well. I not only got the stitches back on the needle, but seem to have succeeded in figuring out where I was in the pattern, to proceed.

I am particularly grateful to Mary Lou, Gerri and especially Kristen for addressing seriously my anxiety about knitting socks for Hellie’s boyfriend Matt. (Comments, Sept 1) I am reassured by your arguments, and I think he’s next on the sock list. This is the yarn I have in mind. It's 100 grams: I’ll need either to add wild toes, or to buy another ball.


I bought it at I Knit London, if memory serves. I nipped over for a link just now, and got a most alarming “Account Suspended” page. Their website was up a fortnight ago.

Here is a rather sweet picture of Matt and Hellie at the Games. I asked him his foot size when he asked for the socks, so I’ve got that.



I am also grateful to yesterday’s commenters for filling me in on what Annie Modesitt was upset about. It doesn’t sound good. If people are saying what Sulky Cat says – and obviously, they are – it’s Annie’s job to stop complaining about "lies" and ask herself why. I follow her blog pretty closely, in appalled sympathy for what her family is going through and admiration for her determination to use knitting to pay the mortgage. The class that the Fishwife and I went to here in Edinburgh – Helen CKS had booked it, too, but wasn’t feeling well enough – was well-prepared and interesting enough.

I spent a lot of time over on Ravellry the weekend before Knit Camp, following with interest and horror the unravelling saga of the US teachers’ work permits. I haven’t been back since. I must have a look.

Back at the ranch…

I dispatched the preemie jacket yesterday, and started Helen’s Amedro shawl. She wants me to keep Amedro’s patterns in the wings, but there’s a centre rectangular section 71 stitches wide which I can “improve” with a pattern from Heirloom Knitting, so everybody’s happy. Here’s what I’ve done so far. There's an irritating error in the big second scallop, but I'm not going back.


It's yesterday’s darg, in fact. For Sharon Miller’s book did arrive, and I learn that “darg” is a Scots term for the product of a day’s work. Most useful word.

And a terrific book. Sharon is a scholar who operates on many levels, collecting Shetland shawls and studying their construction; examining museum examples; tracking down printed patterns; reading pretty obscure sources (e.g., Arthur Laurenson & Co., Lerwick, ‘Truck Report’, 1872); and above all, knitting. The point of this book is her belief, well substantiated, that “Aunt Kate’s Home Knitter” of 1910 contains the first patterns ever published for fine Shetland lace and that the patterns actually come from Shetland, probably from Unst.

Sharon reproduces Aunt Kate’s patterns photographically as well as providing modern charts and abundant advice on construction. A “love darg” is a darg done for love.

Yesterday’s post also brought the new Woolgathering. Never rains but it pours. I reflected during the course of the day that I don’t need to grumble about the postponement of the new book. If I want to knit some EZ stash-gobbling garter stitch, I’ve got the Bog Jacket and/or the Round the Bend to look forward to.

I must tell you how my vegetables are getting on. Tomorrow, perhaps.