Thinking Ahead
Above you see some of the Koigu yarn which Janis has just sent me from the US. I am overwhelmed by her kindness.
Also above you see my daughter-in-law Ketki, on Christmas day, holding her older son James who is wearing the striped Koigu sweater I designed for him. That's the one the pattern for which is on my website, www.jeanmile.demon.co.uk, in Jamie's size only.
(That is not just a quizical expressing on Jamie's face. He was born with something called Goldenhar Syndrome. My son forbade me to look it up on the internet, and I have obeyed. Jamie's right ear is essentially missing, and the right side of his face is twisted. He will have his face corrected when he is six or seven. His parents have decided to leave the ear for him to decide about later -- doctors could either stick on a plastic one, or construct a flesh and blood one from other parts of Jamie. Meanwhile his abundant subcontinental hair does a good job of concealment.)
Our daughter Rachel, Jamie's aunt, admired his sweater, and wants one for herself -- so that's what I'm going to do. I got in touch with my friend Mary Hughes-Thompson at Foxyknits ("The Koigu Connection") yesterday to get some more of the black yarn. It's not dead black. It's sort of flecked with grey, as it might be a raven-haired beauty beginning to be touched by age.
And the nice thing about having done so much Koigu knitting in the last year, is that I know my gauge and how it will behave, so it should be easy to construct the sweater. Traditional knitting must be like this. You knit a few Fair Isle-type sweaters in Shetland jumper weight, or a few ski sweaters in a standard Norwegian yarn, and you then know how things work, and can improvise if you want to.
I'll check Mary H-T's website address for tomorrow -- I'm afraid to navigate away from here now for fear of losing my prose. Meanwhile Google will find her.
Also above you see my daughter-in-law Ketki, on Christmas day, holding her older son James who is wearing the striped Koigu sweater I designed for him. That's the one the pattern for which is on my website, www.jeanmile.demon.co.uk, in Jamie's size only.
(That is not just a quizical expressing on Jamie's face. He was born with something called Goldenhar Syndrome. My son forbade me to look it up on the internet, and I have obeyed. Jamie's right ear is essentially missing, and the right side of his face is twisted. He will have his face corrected when he is six or seven. His parents have decided to leave the ear for him to decide about later -- doctors could either stick on a plastic one, or construct a flesh and blood one from other parts of Jamie. Meanwhile his abundant subcontinental hair does a good job of concealment.)
Our daughter Rachel, Jamie's aunt, admired his sweater, and wants one for herself -- so that's what I'm going to do. I got in touch with my friend Mary Hughes-Thompson at Foxyknits ("The Koigu Connection") yesterday to get some more of the black yarn. It's not dead black. It's sort of flecked with grey, as it might be a raven-haired beauty beginning to be touched by age.
And the nice thing about having done so much Koigu knitting in the last year, is that I know my gauge and how it will behave, so it should be easy to construct the sweater. Traditional knitting must be like this. You knit a few Fair Isle-type sweaters in Shetland jumper weight, or a few ski sweaters in a standard Norwegian yarn, and you then know how things work, and can improvise if you want to.
I'll check Mary H-T's website address for tomorrow -- I'm afraid to navigate away from here now for fear of losing my prose. Meanwhile Google will find her.
Back in Edinburgh
...with much to say and show, and no time, due to the necessity of cleaning up and getting in some food before the New Year descends. Scotland still takes it pretty seriously. I wrote to Janis about that yesterday, and she asked what the seriousness consists of. I feel a whole essay looming on that subject. Very soon...
Someone wrote anonymously about my post from London about the tsunami, saying that some things were beyond words. I'm not entirely sure, here. There was a general holiday lightness of tone on the Knitlist on Sunday and Monday, combined with not the slightest hint that anyone had ever heard of the Indian Ocean, which upset me. Things are different now. People are writing about various fund-raising efforts.
And I was wrong about the worst-natural-disaster. The Tianjin earthquake in China in1976 killed a quarter of a million people. That was just the other day. I've never even heard of it.
Our son James and his family, who live in Beijing, spent Christmas last year in Thailand. Their seven-year-old was considerably disappointed when she grasped that they weren't going to Toyland. We all speak to each other on the phone on Christmas day. Last Saturday, I even said to James, Where are you? Have you gone to Thailand again? No, we're in Beijing. It was a considerable comfort to know that, over the following hours. I wrote to him yesterday to ask where, exactly, in Thailand they had been.
Knitting: I finished Rachel's socks on the train coming home yesterday and started a pair for grandson Thomas. I've now got two grandsons Thomas, as that is the new baby's name. These socks are for the big one, though.
Someone wrote anonymously about my post from London about the tsunami, saying that some things were beyond words. I'm not entirely sure, here. There was a general holiday lightness of tone on the Knitlist on Sunday and Monday, combined with not the slightest hint that anyone had ever heard of the Indian Ocean, which upset me. Things are different now. People are writing about various fund-raising efforts.
And I was wrong about the worst-natural-disaster. The Tianjin earthquake in China in1976 killed a quarter of a million people. That was just the other day. I've never even heard of it.
Our son James and his family, who live in Beijing, spent Christmas last year in Thailand. Their seven-year-old was considerably disappointed when she grasped that they weren't going to Toyland. We all speak to each other on the phone on Christmas day. Last Saturday, I even said to James, Where are you? Have you gone to Thailand again? No, we're in Beijing. It was a considerable comfort to know that, over the following hours. I wrote to him yesterday to ask where, exactly, in Thailand they had been.
Knitting: I finished Rachel's socks on the train coming home yesterday and started a pair for grandson Thomas. I've now got two grandsons Thomas, as that is the new baby's name. These socks are for the big one, though.
Monday, December 27, 2004
From London
The tidal waves in the Indian Ocean 30 hours ago must be a strong candidate for the title of the worst natural disaster in recorded history. Certainly if the number of people dead and ruined is to be the criterion. The eruption of Vesuvius in the first century AD destroyed more interesting places and things, probably. I am duty Listmom on the Knitlist this week, and am horrified that this event has caused not the tiniest ripple there, they who are always so prompt to knit afghans for hurricane victims in Florida and send needles and yarn to those who have lost all. Not that there's much to be accomplished by knitting, in this case. But someone could at least express awed helplessness.
We're having a nice time, and had a great Christmas. My son and his family came to Christmas dinner dressed every one in my knitting (just as I want everyone to do at my funeral) -- the new baby, now named Thomas, had on his Baby Surprise, and his older brother was wearing the striped Koigu sweater I knit him for his first birthday (the pattern is on my website, www.jeanmile.demon.co.uk). His parents were wearing socks of my confecting.
Pictures will follow, when we get back to Edinburgh.
We're having a nice time, and had a great Christmas. My son and his family came to Christmas dinner dressed every one in my knitting (just as I want everyone to do at my funeral) -- the new baby, now named Thomas, had on his Baby Surprise, and his older brother was wearing the striped Koigu sweater I knit him for his first birthday (the pattern is on my website, www.jeanmile.demon.co.uk). His parents were wearing socks of my confecting.
Pictures will follow, when we get back to Edinburgh.
Thursday, December 23, 2004
Non-Knit
A brief look-in before setting off for London...
Our daughter phoned last night to say she'll meet us at King's Cross. That's going to mean almost two hours of driving for her, and will save us from a very awkward hour of struggle with the suburban line. What have we done to deserve such a daughter? Mothers of four who will be cooking Christmas dinner for 12 or 15 people, have plenty to do on December 23.
I heard yesterday from my sister. She has sent some pewter which belonged to our late father, to my daughter in Thessaloniki. It seems to have arrived in Greece, but there is a problem getting it through customs. Our son-in-law is planning to go down to the office with his eldest son, Archie -- Mungo and Fergus' brother. Archie is fluent in Greek and brave as a lion. It should be an interesting encounter.
We spent Christmas in Thessaloniki with them two years ago. When we were leaving church on Christmas day, there was a beggar woman sitting on the step. Archie left our party and went back to her and said something which she found very funny. None of the rest of us speak Greek as well as he does, so we asked what he had said. "You have only one tooth", was the answer.
One of our Christmas cards last year came with the news that the writer's grandson could speak Greek. He lives on Cyprus. I am afraid I wrote back to say that we had a couple of grandchildren who could do that, too, and a couple of others who were fluent in Mandarin. It was wicked of me, but irresistable. This year the card from that source contains no news whatsoever. Serves me right.
The Christmas card flood has brought a certain amount of news of death and diagnoses. I feel ashamed to grumble so about fear-of-the-dark, when we are all alive and well.
Our daughter phoned last night to say she'll meet us at King's Cross. That's going to mean almost two hours of driving for her, and will save us from a very awkward hour of struggle with the suburban line. What have we done to deserve such a daughter? Mothers of four who will be cooking Christmas dinner for 12 or 15 people, have plenty to do on December 23.
I heard yesterday from my sister. She has sent some pewter which belonged to our late father, to my daughter in Thessaloniki. It seems to have arrived in Greece, but there is a problem getting it through customs. Our son-in-law is planning to go down to the office with his eldest son, Archie -- Mungo and Fergus' brother. Archie is fluent in Greek and brave as a lion. It should be an interesting encounter.
We spent Christmas in Thessaloniki with them two years ago. When we were leaving church on Christmas day, there was a beggar woman sitting on the step. Archie left our party and went back to her and said something which she found very funny. None of the rest of us speak Greek as well as he does, so we asked what he had said. "You have only one tooth", was the answer.
One of our Christmas cards last year came with the news that the writer's grandson could speak Greek. He lives on Cyprus. I am afraid I wrote back to say that we had a couple of grandchildren who could do that, too, and a couple of others who were fluent in Mandarin. It was wicked of me, but irresistable. This year the card from that source contains no news whatsoever. Serves me right.
The Christmas card flood has brought a certain amount of news of death and diagnoses. I feel ashamed to grumble so about fear-of-the-dark, when we are all alive and well.
Solstice + One
The dreadful black irony about yesterday's attack in Mosul, is that the letters which must inevitably arrive from Mr Rumsfeld (however he deigns to sign them) can only add to the unimaginable pain that 20 sets of parents and who knows how many widows and widowers, are already feeling. "Oh, look, dear, here is a letter from the Secretary of State. Do you think he signed it himself?"
All well here, I guess. This Blog has been too long unillustrated, so I will, I hope, post later today the picture I take of the Koigu sweater to send to Mungo in Greece. I'm doing the neck ribbing. The neck looks awfully big -- calculated according to Elizabeth's Percentage System, which allows, as revised and improved by Meg, a larger neck for children. I think I'll take in a stitch or two on the ribbing, anyway.
Next in line is a return to the aborted Stillwater. That pattern itself is gone for good, but I still have the four inches of ribbing I did, and I'm set with a better all-over pattern (if I can remember which one I chose) and some new colours.
I was tempted though, yesterday, reading IK in the bath, by the 72-stitch-hat in the Fall issue. I need a hat.
All well here, I guess. This Blog has been too long unillustrated, so I will, I hope, post later today the picture I take of the Koigu sweater to send to Mungo in Greece. I'm doing the neck ribbing. The neck looks awfully big -- calculated according to Elizabeth's Percentage System, which allows, as revised and improved by Meg, a larger neck for children. I think I'll take in a stitch or two on the ribbing, anyway.
Next in line is a return to the aborted Stillwater. That pattern itself is gone for good, but I still have the four inches of ribbing I did, and I'm set with a better all-over pattern (if I can remember which one I chose) and some new colours.
I was tempted though, yesterday, reading IK in the bath, by the 72-stitch-hat in the Fall issue. I need a hat.
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Happy Winter Solstice!
We made it! Another successful tour of the sun!
We are going to London on Thursday -- at the two extremes of the earth's course, there is a palpable difference in light between London and Edinburgh. ("Palpable" is perhaps not the mot juste. ) That will be welcome, and the change will begin to make itself felt here not that long afterwards. By Groundhog Day it should be obvious to all that another year has been born.
My knitting books arrived yesterday from the Schoolhouse Press --"Two-End Knitting" by Ann-Maj Ling and "Shadow Knitting" by Vivian Hoxbro. Both are clearly going to demand some concentrated work. There are some pages on two-end knitting in Sheila McGregor's invaluable "Complete Book of Traditional Scandinavian Knitting" which I think will be useful when I tackle Ling. I am a bit disappointed that the Hoxbro book doesn't have any aliens in it, but perhaps once I get to grips with the system, I'll be able to devise aliens of my own.
I don't buy books by designers any more, except for Candace Eisner Strick and Sharon Miller (Shetland lace) and dear Kaffe (who has quieted down, alas); just techniques.
We had a bit of a turkey crisis over the weekend. (Christmas Dinner is extremely important here -- it is like celebrating Thanksgiving and Christmas in one day.) I had ordered an excessively expensive large organic turkey to be delivered to our daughter in London on Thursday. I paid with a Visa card which expired at the end of November, as of course was clear on the order form. On Saturday I went over my November statement for that card and was horrified to discover no turkey payment. (Perfectly correct from the supplier's point of view, of course -- charge the customer when you make the delivery. But I thought they'd see that the card was about to expire.)
I emailed them and tried to phone. The phone produced only a pleasant voice saying in a recorded message that our order lines for Christmas have now closed.
But after a few hours of mounting angst, they phoned me, in response to the email, and all is going forward. They now have the number of the new card. They said they would have delivered the turkey anyway and straightened it out later. Maybe.
I may well finish knitting Mungo's sweater today. Certainly, tomorrow. So I'll be able to tuck the loose ends inside and send him a pic of the whole thing.
We are going to London on Thursday -- at the two extremes of the earth's course, there is a palpable difference in light between London and Edinburgh. ("Palpable" is perhaps not the mot juste. ) That will be welcome, and the change will begin to make itself felt here not that long afterwards. By Groundhog Day it should be obvious to all that another year has been born.
My knitting books arrived yesterday from the Schoolhouse Press --"Two-End Knitting" by Ann-Maj Ling and "Shadow Knitting" by Vivian Hoxbro. Both are clearly going to demand some concentrated work. There are some pages on two-end knitting in Sheila McGregor's invaluable "Complete Book of Traditional Scandinavian Knitting" which I think will be useful when I tackle Ling. I am a bit disappointed that the Hoxbro book doesn't have any aliens in it, but perhaps once I get to grips with the system, I'll be able to devise aliens of my own.
I don't buy books by designers any more, except for Candace Eisner Strick and Sharon Miller (Shetland lace) and dear Kaffe (who has quieted down, alas); just techniques.
We had a bit of a turkey crisis over the weekend. (Christmas Dinner is extremely important here -- it is like celebrating Thanksgiving and Christmas in one day.) I had ordered an excessively expensive large organic turkey to be delivered to our daughter in London on Thursday. I paid with a Visa card which expired at the end of November, as of course was clear on the order form. On Saturday I went over my November statement for that card and was horrified to discover no turkey payment. (Perfectly correct from the supplier's point of view, of course -- charge the customer when you make the delivery. But I thought they'd see that the card was about to expire.)
I emailed them and tried to phone. The phone produced only a pleasant voice saying in a recorded message that our order lines for Christmas have now closed.
But after a few hours of mounting angst, they phoned me, in response to the email, and all is going forward. They now have the number of the new card. They said they would have delivered the turkey anyway and straightened it out later. Maybe.
I may well finish knitting Mungo's sweater today. Certainly, tomorrow. So I'll be able to tuck the loose ends inside and send him a pic of the whole thing.
Monday, December 20, 2004
Sock Knitting
My modem seems to have dropped the line without telling me, while I was composing deathless prose on the subject of Mr Rumsfeld and sock knitting and Anne Modesitt's blog. When I clicked Publish, all was lost, except, oddly, the title.
Here, an abbreviated version.
Someone wrote anonymously to suggest sock-knitting as a remedy for the formless fear which is strangling me. And it's a good idea. Eight years ago, inspired by my new membership in the Knitlist, I started knitting socks again, specifically as travel knitting. The experience of flying -- I used to be seriously terrified -- was completely transformed. It's something about turning round and round in the same place.
Here, an abbreviated version.
Someone wrote anonymously to suggest sock-knitting as a remedy for the formless fear which is strangling me. And it's a good idea. Eight years ago, inspired by my new membership in the Knitlist, I started knitting socks again, specifically as travel knitting. The experience of flying -- I used to be seriously terrified -- was completely transformed. It's something about turning round and round in the same place.
Comfort Knitting
As you can see, Mungo's sweater is nearly done, and I'm pleased. Four more knitting days before we go south for Christmas -- I may even finish. Certainly I'll have a picture to send him to prove that I'm nearly there.
I had a very kind message yesterday -- unsigned, and it arrived in one of those Blogger anonymous comments which I think I can't reply to -- about yesterday's gloomy post. Many thanks, whoever you are. She suggested knitting a Fair Isle sweater with all the colours of winter, as Meg Swansen once recommended. Not a bad idea.
Last year around this time I happened to be between projects and happened to spot a picture in the paper -- in an article about scarves -- of the delectable actor Tom Baker wearing his Dr Who scarf. He was Dr Who. I've mentioned him before.
So I knit a Dr Who scarf of Shetland jumper-weight oddballs and sent it off to Peking. It's cold there in the winter. And as I was knitting I thought, how comforting this is, I must do it every year. This year, I started a little thread on the Knitlist about Comfort Knitting and had some interesting replies. There was a consensus in favour of knitting something red. I am sure, for me, it also has to be something relatively easy -- no lace or cables. And something cosy.
I chose Fergus' orange Wallaby and Mungo's beautiful Koigu deliberately as this year's comfort knitting, and they have been of some use. And now that I know that Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is something that people have and that gets discussed in the Sunday papers, it behooves me to shut up about it.
On the other hand: on Friday afternoon, as we were coming back from a successful Christmas shopping session, my husband had a small health scare. He was fairly all right that evening, and fine yesterday. But the fact remains that we made a vow 47 years ago, solemnly but with high hearts, to stick together "till death you do part". And God is going to call in his marker one day, sooner rather than later. We're not likely to have another 47. This thought obtrudes more some days than others; it's always there, and worst in the dark.
I had a very kind message yesterday -- unsigned, and it arrived in one of those Blogger anonymous comments which I think I can't reply to -- about yesterday's gloomy post. Many thanks, whoever you are. She suggested knitting a Fair Isle sweater with all the colours of winter, as Meg Swansen once recommended. Not a bad idea.
Last year around this time I happened to be between projects and happened to spot a picture in the paper -- in an article about scarves -- of the delectable actor Tom Baker wearing his Dr Who scarf. He was Dr Who. I've mentioned him before.
So I knit a Dr Who scarf of Shetland jumper-weight oddballs and sent it off to Peking. It's cold there in the winter. And as I was knitting I thought, how comforting this is, I must do it every year. This year, I started a little thread on the Knitlist about Comfort Knitting and had some interesting replies. There was a consensus in favour of knitting something red. I am sure, for me, it also has to be something relatively easy -- no lace or cables. And something cosy.
I chose Fergus' orange Wallaby and Mungo's beautiful Koigu deliberately as this year's comfort knitting, and they have been of some use. And now that I know that Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is something that people have and that gets discussed in the Sunday papers, it behooves me to shut up about it.
On the other hand: on Friday afternoon, as we were coming back from a successful Christmas shopping session, my husband had a small health scare. He was fairly all right that evening, and fine yesterday. But the fact remains that we made a vow 47 years ago, solemnly but with high hearts, to stick together "till death you do part". And God is going to call in his marker one day, sooner rather than later. We're not likely to have another 47. This thought obtrudes more some days than others; it's always there, and worst in the dark.
Saturday, December 18, 2004
Timor Mortis Conturbat Me
Sorry about the headline, but that's what it's like.
A very helpful email from Socklady offers a suggestion about posting pictures to this Blog. I hope to take hold of the situation soon and follow up her method.
Meanwhile the book "Patterns from China" by Judith Gross has arrived. That's the book Janis remembered when I wrote about my ambition to have my Mandarin-speaking granddaughters write a definitive tome on the subject of Chinese knitting. The blurb on the dust-jacket says it is "the first to bring the lovely originality of Chinese hand-knitting to the Western world." There's room for more, I'd say, but this one is extremely interesting.
The author noticed, on a trip to China about 25 years ago, that the children (one per family, of course) were wearing colourful and original hand-knit sweaters, whereas the adults wore a semi-uniform of blue or grey or dark green or brown. That has changed, and perhaps there is less knitting now (as in Scotland), and now there are pattern books with Western-style designs. I came home with a couple last year. Ms Gross says she found no printed patterns at all.
But she did find a printed sheet of stitch patterns posted on the wall in an LYS, with eager knitters copying them down. She was given a copy, and, with some difficulty, had it translated, and has created patterns for children's sweaters using the Chinese stitches. The book is partly illustrated with pictures she took while she was there of Chinese children wearing their knitted clothes.
I found the book on www.abebooks.com, an ever-useful resource.
I'm expecting two more knitterly items in the mail -- two books from the Schoolhouse Press, and some yarn. Not to mention the new issue of Knitter's Magazine with my friend's hat pattern in it. That ought to be enough to cheer me up, but it isn't.
A very helpful email from Socklady offers a suggestion about posting pictures to this Blog. I hope to take hold of the situation soon and follow up her method.
Meanwhile the book "Patterns from China" by Judith Gross has arrived. That's the book Janis remembered when I wrote about my ambition to have my Mandarin-speaking granddaughters write a definitive tome on the subject of Chinese knitting. The blurb on the dust-jacket says it is "the first to bring the lovely originality of Chinese hand-knitting to the Western world." There's room for more, I'd say, but this one is extremely interesting.
The author noticed, on a trip to China about 25 years ago, that the children (one per family, of course) were wearing colourful and original hand-knit sweaters, whereas the adults wore a semi-uniform of blue or grey or dark green or brown. That has changed, and perhaps there is less knitting now (as in Scotland), and now there are pattern books with Western-style designs. I came home with a couple last year. Ms Gross says she found no printed patterns at all.
But she did find a printed sheet of stitch patterns posted on the wall in an LYS, with eager knitters copying them down. She was given a copy, and, with some difficulty, had it translated, and has created patterns for children's sweaters using the Chinese stitches. The book is partly illustrated with pictures she took while she was there of Chinese children wearing their knitted clothes.
I found the book on www.abebooks.com, an ever-useful resource.
I'm expecting two more knitterly items in the mail -- two books from the Schoolhouse Press, and some yarn. Not to mention the new issue of Knitter's Magazine with my friend's hat pattern in it. That ought to be enough to cheer me up, but it isn't.
Thursday, December 16, 2004
Using Up Yarn
I got another kind message from Ann yesterday, with the URL for the DNA scarf. I've downloaded and saved it. Many thanks! It mentions a date, too, which should help finding the magazine article and pattern if I want to -- I'm a founder-subscriber to IK, and have them all.
I've reached a (for me) happy point in Mungo's sweater --where almost every stripe I knit finishes off another skein of yarn.
I keep a record of yarn-in-and-out over the year in a spreadsheet. A pretty futile exercise -- but the figures for 2004 are exceptionally good, and I am delighted to be adding to the yarn-out column even in these last few dark, dark days. The spreadsheet has its uses, too, in restraining my hand occasionally when I am tempted to buy.
I sent packages off yesterday to Beijing (it may arrive in time for the Chinese New Year, if I'm lucky), Old Saybrook, Thessaloniki, Milngavie (it's pronounced "Mill-guy") and London, spending more thereby, I think, than I had spent on the presents inside. But it's done. Card-writing continues.
There were some questions and answers about Blogging on the Knitlist this morning. I think I see what can be done about pictures -- to get more than one into an entry. What I need is a couple of quiet hours to work on the problem, and that's what I see no prospect of.
I've reached a (for me) happy point in Mungo's sweater --where almost every stripe I knit finishes off another skein of yarn.
I keep a record of yarn-in-and-out over the year in a spreadsheet. A pretty futile exercise -- but the figures for 2004 are exceptionally good, and I am delighted to be adding to the yarn-out column even in these last few dark, dark days. The spreadsheet has its uses, too, in restraining my hand occasionally when I am tempted to buy.
I sent packages off yesterday to Beijing (it may arrive in time for the Chinese New Year, if I'm lucky), Old Saybrook, Thessaloniki, Milngavie (it's pronounced "Mill-guy") and London, spending more thereby, I think, than I had spent on the presents inside. But it's done. Card-writing continues.
There were some questions and answers about Blogging on the Knitlist this morning. I think I see what can be done about pictures -- to get more than one into an entry. What I need is a couple of quiet hours to work on the problem, and that's what I see no prospect of.
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Salonika
Mungo's yoke progresses. I have reached the early stage of the point where the decreases begin to make themselves felt and the work seems to accelerate.
I'm falling behind on Christmas card writing, though.
Our son-in-law in Thessaloniki professes to like weighty tomes as presents, so, needless to say, he gets little else. This year there is a new book out, very well reviewed, called "Salonica". (I don't know which way to spell it.) I think it will be published in the US in February. Our daughter emailed me yesterday, rather intelligently, to say that David already had two copies and she had just headed off a third. It occurred to her that it was just the sort of thing which we might be about to send him?
I was able to reply, rather smugly, that we had indeed chosen a book for him of local interest and infinate tedium, but not that one. We are sending a modern re-print of F.C.H.L. Pouqueville's work of 1820, "Travels in Epirus, Albania, Macedonia, and Thessaly." Books don't come much more boring than that.
I think I had better knit him a scarf next year. (Winters are fairly cold in northern Greece, and the whole family goes ski-ing.) The DNA one from IK, perhaps, if I can find it.
I'm falling behind on Christmas card writing, though.
Our son-in-law in Thessaloniki professes to like weighty tomes as presents, so, needless to say, he gets little else. This year there is a new book out, very well reviewed, called "Salonica". (I don't know which way to spell it.) I think it will be published in the US in February. Our daughter emailed me yesterday, rather intelligently, to say that David already had two copies and she had just headed off a third. It occurred to her that it was just the sort of thing which we might be about to send him?
I was able to reply, rather smugly, that we had indeed chosen a book for him of local interest and infinate tedium, but not that one. We are sending a modern re-print of F.C.H.L. Pouqueville's work of 1820, "Travels in Epirus, Albania, Macedonia, and Thessaly." Books don't come much more boring than that.
I think I had better knit him a scarf next year. (Winters are fairly cold in northern Greece, and the whole family goes ski-ing.) The DNA one from IK, perhaps, if I can find it.
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
Mungo's sweater
Since I succeeded in incorporating a picture in a Blog entry yesterday, I'll try again. I'm afraid to go back to yesterday to correct the spelling of "inimitable" for fear of losing both text and picture.
Back to business: here's how Mungo's sweater looks now. Love that Koigu!
Mungo's sweater -- latest
He won't have it for Christmas, but thanks to the modern digital age I will be able to send him an email next week -- he's one of the ones in Thessaloniki -- with an up-to-date picture and the promise of delivery soon.
I'm decreasing only one round in three, as I zoom in towards the neck. Perhaps I left too many stitches behind at the underarm. Never mind. I think it looks OK.
Back to business: here's how Mungo's sweater looks now. Love that Koigu!
Mungo's sweater -- latest
He won't have it for Christmas, but thanks to the modern digital age I will be able to send him an email next week -- he's one of the ones in Thessaloniki -- with an up-to-date picture and the promise of delivery soon.
I'm decreasing only one round in three, as I zoom in towards the neck. Perhaps I left too many stitches behind at the underarm. Never mind. I think it looks OK.
Monday, December 13, 2004
Still no Knitting
I've done some -- Mungo's sweater is all in one piece, yoke depth calculated, short rows added to raise the back and lower the front -- but a lovely message from Ann yesterday tempts me to leave knitting aside for another day. I am also attempting to write an entry around a picture. In the early days, I sometimes succeeded with that, and sometimes didn't.
Ann's message was about the line in which I said yesterday that I preferred to be my children's mother than anybody else's.
I'll expand on that obliquely today by saying that my son James, in his last year at Oxford, lived on the same stair as Hugh Grant and once, according to James' version of events, loaned him a frying pan.
James and his wife had a year in Ann Arbor some time ago, when they were still childless. James had a journalism fellowship. In his career at the BBC he had met the Pope and the Dalai Lama and some other folk, but all anybody in Michigan was interested in hearing about was Hugh Grant.
Hugh Grant is a millionaire and his waxwork effigy is in Madame Tussaud's. James, on the other hand, has a beautiful and highly talented wife and three wonderful children. And he has never, that I know of, been arrested for unsuitable behavior, although it has to be admitted that he stunned the University of Michigan by appearing at the farewell party that year
Not Hugh Grant
.jpg)
wearing a skirt.
That is his daughter Kirsty on the left, and his nephew the innimitable Fergus Drake, on the right.
Ann's message was about the line in which I said yesterday that I preferred to be my children's mother than anybody else's.
I'll expand on that obliquely today by saying that my son James, in his last year at Oxford, lived on the same stair as Hugh Grant and once, according to James' version of events, loaned him a frying pan.
James and his wife had a year in Ann Arbor some time ago, when they were still childless. James had a journalism fellowship. In his career at the BBC he had met the Pope and the Dalai Lama and some other folk, but all anybody in Michigan was interested in hearing about was Hugh Grant.
Hugh Grant is a millionaire and his waxwork effigy is in Madame Tussaud's. James, on the other hand, has a beautiful and highly talented wife and three wonderful children. And he has never, that I know of, been arrested for unsuitable behavior, although it has to be admitted that he stunned the University of Michigan by appearing at the farewell party that year
Not Hugh Grant
.jpg)
wearing a skirt.
That is his daughter Kirsty on the left, and his nephew the innimitable Fergus Drake, on the right.
Sunday, December 12, 2004
Christmas cards
It occurs to me that I don't _have_ to write about knitting -- and anyway I didn't get much done yesterday. Christmas interferes badly with life.
As sure as we'll sit down to turkey and Brussels sprouts on the 25th, some journalist between now and then will fill up a few column inches making fun of the summary-of-the-year sheets which some people include with their cards. What I want to say is, I love them. The ones I don't like are the cards from old friends whom we haven't seen for years, who just say Happy Christmas Love Jeanetta (or whatever) without even a half-sentence of news.
When we were young we used occasionally to keep track of who sent us cards, with the thought of excluding from our own list anyone who didn't reciprocate. I decided that was mean, and we abandoned the practice. This year, I'm going to resurrect it, not for the sake of weeding out the Scrooges, but just to see who's still alive. Not sending us a card doesn't prove that anyone's dead, my husband rightly points out. But sending a card definately shows that they were alive in mid-December.
I think there were times, when our children were younger, when some people's year-end summaries did make me feel that our children weren't quite pulling their weight at school or, later, at improving the world. But now that they are all middle-aged and I am secure in the knowledge that there are no four people in the world I would rather be the mother of, other people's stories are enthralling, and arouse no angst.
I'm well up on my own card-writing (hence limited knitting) and not too bad on present-buying. Wrapping and trudging up the hill to the post office to dispatch packages to Thessaloniki, Beijing, and Connecticut is where I am badly behind. Beijing will be lucky to see anything before February.
As sure as we'll sit down to turkey and Brussels sprouts on the 25th, some journalist between now and then will fill up a few column inches making fun of the summary-of-the-year sheets which some people include with their cards. What I want to say is, I love them. The ones I don't like are the cards from old friends whom we haven't seen for years, who just say Happy Christmas Love Jeanetta (or whatever) without even a half-sentence of news.
When we were young we used occasionally to keep track of who sent us cards, with the thought of excluding from our own list anyone who didn't reciprocate. I decided that was mean, and we abandoned the practice. This year, I'm going to resurrect it, not for the sake of weeding out the Scrooges, but just to see who's still alive. Not sending us a card doesn't prove that anyone's dead, my husband rightly points out. But sending a card definately shows that they were alive in mid-December.
I think there were times, when our children were younger, when some people's year-end summaries did make me feel that our children weren't quite pulling their weight at school or, later, at improving the world. But now that they are all middle-aged and I am secure in the knowledge that there are no four people in the world I would rather be the mother of, other people's stories are enthralling, and arouse no angst.
I'm well up on my own card-writing (hence limited knitting) and not too bad on present-buying. Wrapping and trudging up the hill to the post office to dispatch packages to Thessaloniki, Beijing, and Connecticut is where I am badly behind. Beijing will be lucky to see anything before February.
Saturday, December 11, 2004
Out of Sync
Since I didn't beam up pictures of the shadow-striped fisherman's rib sweater until just now (below), they will have to count as today's illustration. The inside-out sweater doesn't show the reverse striping very well -- not the fault of the photograph; the sweater is like that. But I think that is because the two yarns are so similar. The variegated yarn contains a lot of the solid colour, so on the reverse side, all you see are occasional flecks of the lighter colour. If you see what I mean.
I believe that in two contrasting yarns, there would be distinct stripes on both sides. I really must try it.
Meanwhile I finished Mungo's second sleeve as far as the armpit, and will this evening, I hope, join everything into one whole. A fun moment. So tomorrow's photograph should be more interesting
I believe that in two contrasting yarns, there would be distinct stripes on both sides. I really must try it.
Meanwhile I finished Mungo's second sleeve as far as the armpit, and will this evening, I hope, join everything into one whole. A fun moment. So tomorrow's photograph should be more interesting
Friday, December 10, 2004
Vertically Striped Scarf
Somebody asked on the Knitlist recently for a pattern for a vertically striped scarf. I had an idea which pleases me enough that I may actually shop the stash and see if I can find anything to knit it in.
There is a way of knitting fisherman's rib which comes out with the knit ribs in one colour and the purl, receding bits in another. If you turn it over, the same thing happens except that the colours are reversed. It's dead easy to do. I knit a sweater that way, back in the days 8 or 9 years ago when Colinette still did reasonable-sized, knittable yarns. I used a variegated DK of hers for the ribs, and a toning solid colour for the background and for the genuine, k1 p1 rib at wrist and waist. I love the sweater, but it pills dreadfully. I have been forbidden to wear it because my husband has tired of picking up pills all around the house.
As I understand it, a stitch pattern can't be copyright -- so here's how to do it:
Definitions
K1b -- Knit into the stitch below the stitch on the left-hand needle and slip both stitches off together.
P1b -- Purl into the stitch below the stitch on the left-hand needle and slip both stitches off together.
The stitch pattern
Work on a circular needle with two colours of yarn, A and B. Cast on an odd number of stitches
Row 1 (RS) With colour A, *P1, K1b, repeat from * to last stitch, P1. Do not turn.
Row 2 (RS) With B, purl
Row 3 (WS) With A, K1, *P1b, K1, repeat from * to end. Do not turn.
Row 4 (WS) With B, knit
That's it. Easy peasy. It would make a good scarf, I think, on largish needles to keep it soft and fluffy. One might make a fringe by hooking in tufts of the two yarns together.
I am writing this before taking the pictures of my old sweater, but I hope an illustration will soon appear above to give you the idea.
Meanwhile Mungo's sleeve progresses nicely. More of that tomorrow.
jean@jeanmile.demon.co.uk
There is a way of knitting fisherman's rib which comes out with the knit ribs in one colour and the purl, receding bits in another. If you turn it over, the same thing happens except that the colours are reversed. It's dead easy to do. I knit a sweater that way, back in the days 8 or 9 years ago when Colinette still did reasonable-sized, knittable yarns. I used a variegated DK of hers for the ribs, and a toning solid colour for the background and for the genuine, k1 p1 rib at wrist and waist. I love the sweater, but it pills dreadfully. I have been forbidden to wear it because my husband has tired of picking up pills all around the house.
As I understand it, a stitch pattern can't be copyright -- so here's how to do it:
Definitions
K1b -- Knit into the stitch below the stitch on the left-hand needle and slip both stitches off together.
P1b -- Purl into the stitch below the stitch on the left-hand needle and slip both stitches off together.
The stitch pattern
Work on a circular needle with two colours of yarn, A and B. Cast on an odd number of stitches
Row 1 (RS) With colour A, *P1, K1b, repeat from * to last stitch, P1. Do not turn.
Row 2 (RS) With B, purl
Row 3 (WS) With A, K1, *P1b, K1, repeat from * to end. Do not turn.
Row 4 (WS) With B, knit
That's it. Easy peasy. It would make a good scarf, I think, on largish needles to keep it soft and fluffy. One might make a fringe by hooking in tufts of the two yarns together.
I am writing this before taking the pictures of my old sweater, but I hope an illustration will soon appear above to give you the idea.
Meanwhile Mungo's sleeve progresses nicely. More of that tomorrow.
jean@jeanmile.demon.co.uk
It's Awfully Dark...
...but at least there's less than a fortnight to go to the solstice.
I got a lot of knitting done in the country. The never-very-satisfactory portable computer I use there gave up the ghost entirely -- a liberating experience. And daylight was brief, so relatively little could be done outsoors. I should have taken more Christmas cards along, but I didn't. So I knit, and attended to the most delightful of gardening chores, choosing my seed list for '05.
The ribwarmer went faster than I expected. I should finish the body of it when we are next there in January (insh'allah). I'm using the four skeins of Debbie Bliss "Maya" which I fell for recently, and it's going to be touch and go as to whether I have enough, but I think I'll make it. The collar is done, and if the instructions are to be believed, the back is a couple of rows shorter than the front. It's that close.
I'll edge it with i-cord. I was delighted with the effect on the recent Baby Surprise. But I can use a different yarn for that.
The instructions were unspecific about whether to wrap the next stitch when short-rowing to make the corners. I was working from Woolgathering 58, March '98, "The Ribwarmer Revisited". The knitter who had done one of the longer models illustrated there, specifically said that she didn't wrap. I tried it that way and thought it looked horrible, so ripped out the first corner and did it again with wrapping. Much better.
The neighbour's party was very pleasant. We had champagne to drink, which I always enjoy. This was a party, industrious readers will remember, launching a widower's new lady friend as mistress of his house. We don't know what the dead wife's family think of this. It is, in fact, their house, still.
It has also to be reported that the deer have been down and helped themselves to my vegetables. I try hard to have something available to eat from the garden in other months of the year besides glorious August and September, but without deer fencing it's a mug's game.
I got a lot of knitting done in the country. The never-very-satisfactory portable computer I use there gave up the ghost entirely -- a liberating experience. And daylight was brief, so relatively little could be done outsoors. I should have taken more Christmas cards along, but I didn't. So I knit, and attended to the most delightful of gardening chores, choosing my seed list for '05.
The ribwarmer went faster than I expected. I should finish the body of it when we are next there in January (insh'allah). I'm using the four skeins of Debbie Bliss "Maya" which I fell for recently, and it's going to be touch and go as to whether I have enough, but I think I'll make it. The collar is done, and if the instructions are to be believed, the back is a couple of rows shorter than the front. It's that close.
I'll edge it with i-cord. I was delighted with the effect on the recent Baby Surprise. But I can use a different yarn for that.
The instructions were unspecific about whether to wrap the next stitch when short-rowing to make the corners. I was working from Woolgathering 58, March '98, "The Ribwarmer Revisited". The knitter who had done one of the longer models illustrated there, specifically said that she didn't wrap. I tried it that way and thought it looked horrible, so ripped out the first corner and did it again with wrapping. Much better.
The neighbour's party was very pleasant. We had champagne to drink, which I always enjoy. This was a party, industrious readers will remember, launching a widower's new lady friend as mistress of his house. We don't know what the dead wife's family think of this. It is, in fact, their house, still.
It has also to be reported that the deer have been down and helped themselves to my vegetables. I try hard to have something available to eat from the garden in other months of the year besides glorious August and September, but without deer fencing it's a mug's game.
Saturday, December 04, 2004
Yarn
You don't really need another picture of last night's 2-3" addition to Mungo's second sleeve. I was going to write about a pattern for a vertically-striped scarf, but last night I got one of those Anonymous comment messages which I can't reply to, from Brigid, who said, "As for your own sweater: what a nice choice to make - between cashmere or Koigu!" She's so right!
But I thought back to the winter of 1957-58 when I was not long married and expecting our first child. No such choices then! I knit her a Shetland shawl, designed by Mrs A. Hunter of Unst, and it took 8 balls of Paton's Beehive 2-ply, Patonised. I couldn't afford such an outlay all at once, so I bought them one at a time, as required.
The pattern was a Paton's leaflet. By my current advanced standards, it was fairly routine. It required one to knit six pieces: the four trapezoids, the center square, and finally the edging, and sew them all together. It's hard to believe, even in those days before circular needles were common, that that's the way it was done on Unst.
The call came before I had quite finished. I knit the last couple of scallops of the edging on my hospital bed, and a dear friend sewed the whole damn thing together so that I could carry the baby home in it. That's friendship! All four of our children were carried in it to be baptised, and our eldest grandchild likewise, and after that I gave it to the daughter it was knit for and she thinks she's got it somewhere but can't quite lay her hands on it.
The pattern is mentioned in the bibliography of Hazel Carter's self-published "Shetland Lace Knitting from Charts". Although I have kept most of the patterns I have knit in lo! these many years, and a great many others I haven't knit, that one got away. I sought it high and low, turning over piles of patterns in charity shops. Then, three years ago, at the great annual Christian Aid Book Sale here in Edinburgh, I found it! in a pile of miscellaneous knitting patterns. I thrust a pound into the woman's astonished hand -- don't laugh! that's nearly $2.00 -- and took the pattern, leaving her with the rest of the pile. And I'm very glad to have it.
We're off to Kirkmichael today. When we get back on Tuesday or Wednesday, I will reveal how I got on with the ribwarmer, and expound my vertically-striped scarf idea. By the time all that is done, Mungo's sleeves may even be attached to the body.
But I thought back to the winter of 1957-58 when I was not long married and expecting our first child. No such choices then! I knit her a Shetland shawl, designed by Mrs A. Hunter of Unst, and it took 8 balls of Paton's Beehive 2-ply, Patonised. I couldn't afford such an outlay all at once, so I bought them one at a time, as required.
The pattern was a Paton's leaflet. By my current advanced standards, it was fairly routine. It required one to knit six pieces: the four trapezoids, the center square, and finally the edging, and sew them all together. It's hard to believe, even in those days before circular needles were common, that that's the way it was done on Unst.
The call came before I had quite finished. I knit the last couple of scallops of the edging on my hospital bed, and a dear friend sewed the whole damn thing together so that I could carry the baby home in it. That's friendship! All four of our children were carried in it to be baptised, and our eldest grandchild likewise, and after that I gave it to the daughter it was knit for and she thinks she's got it somewhere but can't quite lay her hands on it.
The pattern is mentioned in the bibliography of Hazel Carter's self-published "Shetland Lace Knitting from Charts". Although I have kept most of the patterns I have knit in lo! these many years, and a great many others I haven't knit, that one got away. I sought it high and low, turning over piles of patterns in charity shops. Then, three years ago, at the great annual Christian Aid Book Sale here in Edinburgh, I found it! in a pile of miscellaneous knitting patterns. I thrust a pound into the woman's astonished hand -- don't laugh! that's nearly $2.00 -- and took the pattern, leaving her with the rest of the pile. And I'm very glad to have it.
We're off to Kirkmichael today. When we get back on Tuesday or Wednesday, I will reveal how I got on with the ribwarmer, and expound my vertically-striped scarf idea. By the time all that is done, Mungo's sleeves may even be attached to the body.
Pressing on
I've started Mungo's second sleeve, as you see, on dps.
We are going to Kirkmichael tomorrow, where attention will shift of course to an attempt to knit a ribwarmer in the Debbie Bliss homespun yarn "Maya" which I bought recently. Full report on return, Tuesday or Wednesday.
I had what I think might be called an epiphanic moment the other day. I had been thinking of knitting myself a cashmere sweater from the yarn at www.handknitting.com -- they have a wonderful range of colours and they claim that there are slight unevennesses in the dyeing, an attribute I like. But the other day I was surveying my sweater drawer in which already lie several cashmere sweaters, presents from my son and daughter-in-law in Beijing. They are wonderful. I love and wear them regularly (and will certainly have one on when we head north tomorrow).
But they're awfully warm, and the Edinburgh winter is as often damp and mild (today) as it is briskly cold (yesterday). Do I really need another cashmere sweater? Wouldn't I prefer a Koigu of my own, like Theo and soon Mungo?
Hmmm.
The yarn is now available in Britain, at a price which makes even me hesitate. It might be better to order it from the States and take a chance on paying customs duty. By the time I finish Mungo's sweater my Koigu stash will be seriously depleted.
We are going to Kirkmichael tomorrow, where attention will shift of course to an attempt to knit a ribwarmer in the Debbie Bliss homespun yarn "Maya" which I bought recently. Full report on return, Tuesday or Wednesday.
I had what I think might be called an epiphanic moment the other day. I had been thinking of knitting myself a cashmere sweater from the yarn at www.handknitting.com -- they have a wonderful range of colours and they claim that there are slight unevennesses in the dyeing, an attribute I like. But the other day I was surveying my sweater drawer in which already lie several cashmere sweaters, presents from my son and daughter-in-law in Beijing. They are wonderful. I love and wear them regularly (and will certainly have one on when we head north tomorrow).
But they're awfully warm, and the Edinburgh winter is as often damp and mild (today) as it is briskly cold (yesterday). Do I really need another cashmere sweater? Wouldn't I prefer a Koigu of my own, like Theo and soon Mungo?
Hmmm.
The yarn is now available in Britain, at a price which makes even me hesitate. It might be better to order it from the States and take a chance on paying customs duty. By the time I finish Mungo's sweater my Koigu stash will be seriously depleted.
December!
I always feel much better when we actually get to December. Sure, it's still getting darker -- but not for much longer. I have something of the opposite feeling on the 1st of June every year. This is wonderful, but it'll soon be over.
As you see, Mungo's first sleeve progresses, and may well be finished today. I'm not greatly enamoured of the two-circular method, but I'm making it work. I suspect I will leave this sleeve behind on one of the circulars and switch to dp's for the other sleeve.
The new "Knitter's"
However, today's great excitement has nothing to do with either of those matters. I had a look at my favourite Blog last night (www.queerjoe.blogspot.com). Queer Joe was giving his opinion of the new Knitter's Magazine. Better than many issues recently, was his conclusion.
But the excitement stems from his reference to one of the patterns he liked -- a hat by Janis Witkins! She's my friend! (Not to be confused with the other Janis, my cyber-friend.)
I have met several designers at Stitches events, and I rank Candace Eisner Strick as a friend, too. (www.strickwear.com) But she was already an established designer when I met her, at Camp Stitckes in 1999. Indeed I already owned her first book.
But Janis W. is different -- she's what might be called a private friend. In 2000, I went to Camp Stitches again. It was on beautiful Lake George in those days. After Camp, I wanted to go visit my sister and mother at the mouth of the Connecticut River. I consulted timetables on-line, and the conclusion I reached was that America was simply not set up to transport people from the Hudson Valley to the Connecticut Valley. You had to go to New York and back out. So I appealed to the Knitlist, and Janis responded. She was at Camp, too. She lives in Old Lyme (famous for Lyme Disease) and it would be perfectly possible, if a bit strenuous, to walk from her house to my sister's, on the other side of the river.
We had a grand day driving down, including a stop at Webs. Later, on a subsequent visit of mine, Janis and her husband came to supper at my sister's house. I cooked, and didn't make the chilli hot enough. Since then, we've kept in touch by Christmas card. And now she's in Knitter's!
That magazine is the slowest of my subscriptions to make the journey across the Atlantic. It will probably be January before I see it.
As you see, Mungo's first sleeve progresses, and may well be finished today. I'm not greatly enamoured of the two-circular method, but I'm making it work. I suspect I will leave this sleeve behind on one of the circulars and switch to dp's for the other sleeve.
The new "Knitter's"
However, today's great excitement has nothing to do with either of those matters. I had a look at my favourite Blog last night (www.queerjoe.blogspot.com). Queer Joe was giving his opinion of the new Knitter's Magazine. Better than many issues recently, was his conclusion.
But the excitement stems from his reference to one of the patterns he liked -- a hat by Janis Witkins! She's my friend! (Not to be confused with the other Janis, my cyber-friend.)
I have met several designers at Stitches events, and I rank Candace Eisner Strick as a friend, too. (www.strickwear.com) But she was already an established designer when I met her, at Camp Stitckes in 1999. Indeed I already owned her first book.
But Janis W. is different -- she's what might be called a private friend. In 2000, I went to Camp Stitches again. It was on beautiful Lake George in those days. After Camp, I wanted to go visit my sister and mother at the mouth of the Connecticut River. I consulted timetables on-line, and the conclusion I reached was that America was simply not set up to transport people from the Hudson Valley to the Connecticut Valley. You had to go to New York and back out. So I appealed to the Knitlist, and Janis responded. She was at Camp, too. She lives in Old Lyme (famous for Lyme Disease) and it would be perfectly possible, if a bit strenuous, to walk from her house to my sister's, on the other side of the river.
We had a grand day driving down, including a stop at Webs. Later, on a subsequent visit of mine, Janis and her husband came to supper at my sister's house. I cooked, and didn't make the chilli hot enough. Since then, we've kept in touch by Christmas card. And now she's in Knitter's!
That magazine is the slowest of my subscriptions to make the journey across the Atlantic. It will probably be January before I see it.