knit and tonic

So Much to Learn

Well shoot, shoot, crud or what have you. Girlfriend scored a single Pokemon card from the local Burger King (in a kid's meal) and now she wants to know how to play the game. Game? Game? I have no idea about that one. I can show you Candy Land or maybe Dominoes or perhaps Monopoly, which I can't stand, for your information, but Pokemon? I thought the kids simply traded them willy nilly and there were no rules except for maybe you had a duplicate or maybe one that was significantly more sparkly than the other one or maybe you just didn't like the leggings on Ms. Pikachualicious or something like that, so you organized a trade then went to school.

We just called up a neighbor kid and asked him to come over and explain the game to us. He trotted in bearing a huge binder full over plastic covered Pokemon cards, and after about 10 minutes we realized he didn't know what the heck was going on, either. We are all in the Pokemon Dark.

Actually, I'm sort of kidding. But it seems to me this Pokemon card game has a lot in common with a bevy of other needle arts. I was just sitting in my every-eight-week's Temari class and I tell you what. Those stitchers, the ones in the group who do a lot needlepoint certainly know a thing or two about stuff I have no idea about. Like, did you know that they have tools to lay down threads? Huh? They have tools to lay down threads! Needle threaders, I understand. But Thread Lay-ers (or whatever they call them)? Who'd have thunk? They also have these little plastic boxes with little sponges in them. I have no idea what they use those for.

They also have special packets, little sandwich bags for their DMC threads. I mean, they could have probably purchased snack packets with no problem, but these, they have spaces on the fronts for info like color lot, color number and type of thread. Oy. And get this: the would-be snack packets get threaded through these big metal loops so they stay together in a neat little pile. The gals who come to class have little baggies with all their threads perfectly twirled into little swirls. I can only hope I can ever come close to that kind of "mise en place." But, to tell you the truth, if I manage to arrive with the appropriate colors in the first place, I am totally on the mark and there's nothing stopping me.

I have a copy of the book, Custom Knits! Here is a pic of the front and the back. I am speechless. I just hope that there are a few knitters out there who will appreciate a little knitted bikini cover - slash - teeny tiny dress. . . .(available end of August!)

Yogini Bolero

I never really put the words, "yogi" and "bolero" together in my mind before, but when this pattern was complete, it just seemed right. Well, at least until I said the two words together out loud. When I said "Yogi Bolero," out came visions of a know-it-all, hat-wearin', on-two-feet walkin' bear who happens to have a best friend named "Boo Boo." It was then that I knew, just knew, that I couldn't name the thing "Yogi Bolero," after all.

In walked the "Yogini Bolero."

Whips up in no time flat--at least the short sleeve version does--you can throw this one on in a pinch on your way to a class or use as a cover up for a little tank or wildly printed dress. The hemp or linen offers just enough warmth for warmer climates, but if you want something with a little more heat, try a worsted weight wool. Something with just a bit of a halo, or shimmer, or something just, plain sumptuous.

Yogini Bolero is knit in one piece, from the top down. The pattern also includes instructions for two sleeve lengths: short and long.

SIZES
XS (S, M, L, 1X, 2X, 3X)

FOR SIZES
32 (34, 36, 40, 42 46, 50)" chest
Shown in size Small; two inches negative ease suggested

FINISHED UPPER WAIST
30.25 (34.25, 37.5, 39, 43, 45.5, 49)", including bands
Note: This is not meant to overlap in the front

YARN
Short Sleeve: Hemp for Knitting Allhemp6LUX (100% Hemp; 143yd-130m / 100g): 3 (3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6) hanks; Color 52 Zinfandel, or approximately 450 (450, 575, 575, 725, 725, 800) yds same weight yarn

Long Sleeve: Louet Sales Euroflax "Light/Worsted Weight" (100% Wetspun Linen; 200yd / 100g): 4 (5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7) hanks; Color 112 Celtic Blue, or approximately 800 (850, 950, 1050, 1200, 1200) yds same weight yarn

GAUGE
20 sts and 24 rows = 4” in St st

NOTIONS
One 29" (74 cm) or longer circ needle size US 5 (3.75mm)
One set double point needles size US 5 (3.75mm) (for working in rnd; optional)
One add’l 29" (74 cm) or longer circ needle size US 5 (3.75mm) (optional)
Stitch markers
Waste yarn
Yarn needle

DIFFICULTY
Adventurous or Advanced Beginner

Click on the button below to buy a copy. It will be sent to you in a zipped PDF file via email when payment is made or eCheck clears. Thanks!

$6.00

EDITED TO ADD: I added more info on the Euroflax. It is "Light/Worsted Weight."
 

Knitting is Harder

The day finally came when she asked me how to knit. I was at the ready, needles and yarn donated from Birds of a Feather in Ohio (I visited when I was taping a couple segments for Knitting Daily TV which should be airing by now).

I have never shown anyone how to do anything, really, and to think that I have a book coming out is sort of scary. I've never been a teacher, at least not in my vision of "teacher" and I don't know if I want to be one. I am sort of in the realm of wanting to show what I know or sharing what I have learned, instead of teaching things, step by step or by rote. I am more excited about just sitting and talking about things, rather than leading. So showing Girlfriend how to knit was, should I say, mildly daunting and sort of scary for me.

But it was good. And she nearly knit three rows before running upstairs. She was proud. And I will hang onto her UFO until she's ready to tackle it again.

Unless, like me, she rebels against her mother's artistic pursuits and decides to throw her nose up at everything and every idea I have. I did that in Bluebirds (the young version of Camp Fire Girls) when my mom was a Bluebird Leader. I refused to wear my uniform. I never followed her directions. I basically made her life a living Bluebird leader mommy hell.

If I could take it back now, I would.

Meanwhile, I will save this for (my) prosperity and leave the rest to her. Bless her soul. She'll decide what she likes and as long as it isn't stripping or alligator wrestling, I will always be there for her.

By the way: I was just thinking, as I was joining my crocheted motifs together the way the latest Interweave Crochet suggests (thanks to all of you who commented) that crochet is a lot easier than knitting. At least to me.

Oh, I did a couple designs for Blue Sky Alpacas. One is for free (a girls' tank that can be found on their site and at Knitting Daily TV) and another, a unisex kid's pullover with a Mariachi theme. Both use their new skinny cotton that is fantastic.

I Prefer the Stuff in the Plastic Green Jug

Not to bring up potty subjects since I've mentioned that sort of thing twice or more in the past week or two, but as I lay there today face down on the table, beee-hind exposed and my physical therapist with his elbow digging into the exposed portion, all I could think of was yarn.

He knows about the blog, he even accidentally referred to it as "Gin and Tonic" the other day, and I hastily reminded him that although I'm a gin and tonic lover (even the cheap gin is good gin--actually, I like the cheap stuff more than the expensive stuff), the name is "Knit and Tonic." And today, when he noticed that my pelvis was really out of whack, and I told him it was because I was working all day, knitting, then he stood upright (remember, my bee you tee tee was exposed) and said: "You really knit? For real? You actually knit?"

"Uhm, yes. I knit. Honest."

You really gotta wonder. So far, two guys in the same Physical Therapy Establishment thought I was kidding when I said "knit." They thought I was pulling their legs or something. But be nice to them. They're into sports. (And they read the blog.)

Next Tuesday when I'm in again, I'll do a little digging to find out what sports my physical therapists enjoy the most, and I'll wait a day or two and say, "So, do you actually [fill in the blank]? Or do you just watch?"

I thought an aching hip was enough to compel them. I guess not. I suppose if I wore orthopedic shoes and dragged my husband along, carrying my purse for me, complaining about the slipping dentures, they may have believed, right off the bat, that I actually knit.

A couple of things: Yarn continues to flood into the front door, and if you're wondering where I find all of it, like I said, I just have to answer the door and it's there. But for the latest stuff, three skeins of Opal Rain forest Butterfly/Raupe Green/Snake colorways, I found it through my friend, Allison of Supercrafty, who is having a fire sale like all get out. Everything is 30 - 40 percent off. So if your children are learning about the rain forest like mine is, socks in colorways that resemble some of the inhabitants there might be a good thing--especially at such a good price.

I also finished the Yogini Bolero Long Sleeve. Sneak peak above. The pattern is being edited as I type this and it will be available soon! (Oh, and the hip is coming along, thanks to all the P.T.)

Sheesh. It Ain't Open Heart Surgery . . .

Even though my grandma taught me to knit when I was about eight years old, I didn't knit again until very recently. What I mean by very recently is about six years or so ago. When I decided that I would knit, I bought myself a book by Debbie Bliss, I think it is called "How to Knit." Then, whenever I came across something I didn't understand while knitting a project, if I couldn't figure out my "own" way to do it, I'd grab a reference book.

Thing is, I've been told by people who've knit for many, many years that I knit backwards. Or I don't do things the "right way." I like the way I do things. I'm comfortable. The only thing that makes me uncomfortable is trying to explain why the things I do the way I do them works for me.

I just had a conversation the other day with HWWV about this sort of thing and he said: "Taking a different approach to a known craft is fine, but first you have to know how to do it 'correctly' and by the rules. Then, you can make your own changes. But you have to fully understand how to do it by the book, first."

I don't know.

When it comes to knit and crochet, at least, in my mind, there may be a set way of doing things, but it is fine by me if someone who knits for their own pleasure--and others' pleasure--approaches their craft in such a way as to refine it and define it in their own mind and share what they like openly without someone telling them that they are doing it "wrong," "backwards," "upside down" or "not by the book." Who the heck cares if you like to crochet your knitted pieces together instead of mattress stitch? Or twist stitches because you like how it looks? Or knit everything in the round?

The reason I love what I'm doing these days is because I have the autonomy to knit the way I want to knit and not do things exactly by the book. Same goes for all the very skilled and seasoned knitters. You knit your way. I'll knit mine, and let's just forget about it.

Come to think of it: I wouldn't have ever known I did things wrong or differently unless some of the stalwarts had so politely informed me. Heck, I never knew there were so many rules to playing with a couple needles and an innocent ball of wool.

Had I known there were so many, I don't think I would have ever picked up the needles again in the first place!

Speaking of rules: Anyone have an idea about how to join motifs like the ones above? They're crocheted and a simple sunflower shape. I am not a skilled crocheter and I was thinking that I may just sew them in strips and then join them, strip by strip, with another strip of maybe single or double crochet. What do you think? (This is the Filati Sailor in Versailles for Girlfriend's room. We are changing her red and white gingham and Toile "baby" room into a little girl room. Her colors will be like Neapolitan ice cream.)

On the Spinning (and Not the Kind that Makes Yarn)

As the world turns on its axis, so does my yarn. My yarn, all the projects that have been left unfinished, skeins of wool meant for this or that, lists of design ideas, deadlines, they turn too, in a rash-riddled clump of fiber and dreams, faster and faster and faster.

For awhile, I can keep up with the pace of it all. But a day always comes when I get caught up in the swarm and end up in the epicenter, the eye of the storm, but in a guilt-ridden vortex of inactivity.

I'm stuck.

And I would love, like the multitude of bloggers, to slap a button on my front page that declares I will not knit anything new no matter what until all my UFO's are completed.  Thing is, I just hate making promises I will never, ever be able keep. So, for now, I am "Yarn Diet" Button free.

To me, that whole Yarn and New Project Diet craze: It ought to happen organically, kind of like some sort of industrial action that will prevent me from doing what I want to do. You know, kind of like how an alcoholic who, on purpose, moves to a state with those crazy Blue Laws to keep themselves from buying loads of beer on Sundays.

Actually, I'm starting to hope for some sort of tragedy, like a big, bad sheep strike, a llama walkout or an all and out alpaca revolt so all that yarn stops showing up at my door willy nilly. And, if I'm lucky enough, those spinning wheels will refuse to spin or just plain, get stuck, so I will turn to my stash and actually pull something out of the heap and cast on, and perhaps complete it.

I'm hoping that, all of the yarn and pie-in-the-sky ideas will just stop coming so the cyclone that is my current day-to-day existence will start slowing down. That I will wake up and find myself in, oh, Tahiti, where things go a bit slower. Or Texas. Or somewhere that seems like it would be still. Like maybe a dungeon, a dungeon run by a couple of slowpokes on downers.

My yarn. My yarn. My yarn. Its bounty overflow-ith.

BTW: You gotta hit Elann.com for this stuff (Filati Sailor) You can buy a bag of it for 14 bucks or thereabouts and the colors are breathtaking. Nice stuff for a lousy 14 bucks or thereabouts. . . if you have a place to store it all.

Too Many Yarns (and it isn't my fault)

I was just reading, in the latest David Sedaris novel (see sidebar if you're interested), about a friend and the mother of his friend who both had a worm poke through their skin--on separate occasions--while they lived in the Congo. I'm not sure what kind of worm it was that poked out, because I'm not that far through the chapter, but it sounds sort of gross to me.

Thing is, the real detail of the story says that one of the worms poked out of one of the victim's legs, and I suppose I can handle that, in theory. But on a slightly different topic--and I use the words "slightly different topic" loosely--I heard from the make-up gal from my photo shoot for the You-Know, Gigi, tell an almost entirely different account of a worm, and friends, brace yourselves, but know that this tale has a lot to do with the theme of the post and you must, you must, read through even though you might be prone to a bit of a stomach ache because if you have any knowledge at all of your yarn *just finding* itself onto your front doorstep or into your closet or pocket, or bag, or basement, or whatever unfilled vessel that resides in or near your home, then you will have to brace yourselves and read on. Trust me. (Nonetheless, this might be your ace in the pocket when explaining to your significant other where the heck all that yarn came from.)

So, after a few days with all of us together a year ago during the shoot, Gigi remarked that she had a French friend-of-a-friend who had a parasite. (Not sure if he were French, to tell you the truth, but let's just go with my story the way it is; otherwise, I will have to call her and I don't have her business card handy.)

She said to me, while we were under some sort of a large rectangular umbrella, that she was told that one of her friend-of-a-friends went to the toilet awhile back, looked down toward his behind, and there was a big worm-ish item looping up and looking back up at him. Literally staring at him. Not sure if the worm-item said "bonjour" or screamed, however...

Then, that man, her friend-of-a-friend, he hopped up off the stool and proceeded to run away from himself. In circles. And for all she knows, he's still running away from himself. I will say, however; she did remark that she and her friends drank a lot of wine while discussing the whole event so I'm not sure if he ran in circles or just ran straight ahead.

That's how I feel about all the yarn that has arrived at my front door in the recent days/weeks/whathaveyou.

Too. Much. Yarn. I have ordered and reordered and reordered, and Elann.com now knows when to send me stuff by Fuzzy Logic instead of me ordering the old-fashioned way, by internet. All I have to do these days is answer the door.

So, in my defense, and recalling the premise of the Congo worms and that particular tape-kind that just happened to climb out that guy's behind and proceeded to chase him around the room: Let's just say that, first, I'm not sure how the yarn got here in the first place, and second: I stand by my story that it must be some sort of virus, or maybe I travel too much and have some sort of yarn worm.

And just so you know that yarn up top: Scout custom dyed this yarn for me. It is an amazing washable sock weight that is destined to be a little shrug. I said I loved the Crayola Cornflower Blue and the Robin's Egg Blue color crayons and asked if she could blend them into something wonderful. The item I want to make is the shrug from this month's Knitty. It's called Sheltand Shorty. I cannot wait to cast on. If you are dying for some fingering weight yarn for the same pattern, you now know who to call.

P.S. I have two patterns in the latest Knitscene, the one that will hit newstands and book stores in the next few weeks. Go check them out!

Yarn? Where Art Thou?

I ask you this, and I mean that I am actually asking you this. It is not a rhetorical question. It is a real one: Why is it, I happen upon a pattern that I just have to knit NOW and I just know that there must be a couple hundred yards of an appropriate yarn for the job in my endless stash and then when I check my stash, there is nothing that comes close. Even if I search under my bed and in the luggage. Nothing. Not one hank, skein, ball or wad. There is nothing that will fit the bill.

And I'm not fooling myself, either. I know there have been times when I say the same thing to myself, that there must be something in my stash and then I take a look and, yes, there are suitable yarns there, but for some reason, I'm compelled to buy some "fresher" stuff instead of using the stash-stuff. But this time, I am telling the truth. I am being honest. Honest like crap. You know, honest-honest. (And that is really honest. Crap don't lie.)

I have floppy cotton. I have cotton with slubs of rayon. I have cotton with some bamboo. I have kitchen cotton (see? I just finished a scrubbie thingy.) I have cotton like all get out. But not the "right" kind of cotton. The type of cotton that will stand on end and measures exactly 4.5 stitches to the inch and has that certain je ne sais quoi. You know what I mean. . .

Worse, I won't even wear this until, oh, December or January. But I gotta knit it anyway. Right now.

About the Yogini Bolero: I finished one sleeve for the long sleeve version. I was on eggshells while it was blocking but it turned out just right. That blue linen looks like worn denim and I am absolutely in love with it.

BTW: The Bunny is fine. Her eye is still a little "off," but her hip, the 4-inch incision, is perfectly flat and pink-free. Oh, and get this: Speaking of poop, We finally found something that Rocko won't eat: Huge, long, meaty grubs the likes you wouldn't even believe if they appeared on some sort of crazy Larvae YouTube/World Wide Records show, or whatever the heck they call it.

I relayed the story to our wonderful gardener in whatever Spanish I could muster today about a huge grub that hissed at me and wouldn't exit our backyard. Then, he replied, in perfect English: "So, he stand up and look at you and wave his arms like crazy?"

I shivered and gagged and nearly threw up.

Then he said, while patting my shoulder: "I take care of him. I will bring my big lasso next time. Adios. Oh, and tell your husband Arturo and George will fix the broken sprinkler for 80 dollars. Cash, please."

Life is good.

On Poop and Laughing Hysterically

Well, shoot. I don't know why puppies do what they do even after they are a year old, or why, but Rocko has had his fair share of eating items that aren't normally ingested by regular folk. Sure, if he were to eat a pig trotter or perhaps a pig snout, I'd suggest that he wasn't regular folk, but he has gone way beyond what a cannibal would consider normal fare. Yesterday, I passed the laundry room, and there he was, chomping on a big poop a la The Bunny.

This poop wasn't as big as usual (the surgery), but it was large enough for a couple bites. That guy, he saw me coming and clamped down his jaws so tight he split the poop in thirds and in his wily and doxie/terrier ways, managed to double back and pick up the two chunks that plunked down on the floor before he ran into Girlfriend's room to finish. Many hours later, even though I thought I had managed to partition the laundry room off (this is where The Bunny's stuff is), he came up to me to give me a lick and I smelled a nice lavender scent. After a few minutes, I realized that smell was the smell of The Bunny's new "New and Improved Lavender Scented Clumping Litter" and that was all she wrote. This dude has bad taste. Who'd eat poop? I suppose there are all types that will eat poop. Chuck hankers after a nice coyote poop whenever we take him on the trails. I even knew a gal whose two terriers ate their own and she'd sprinkle stuff on it to make it taste bad (?), to no avail, although I will say her dogs were a couple of dopes.

Which reminds me, one time, my mom and I headed off to Happy Hour at the local chain Mexican restaurant bar. By the time we had taken off, we had already started laughing. She turned to me while she was starting the car and yukking it up about something, but over and over she tried to poke her keys into the car keyhole. She couldn't stick it in, no matter how much she tried, and then, when I spotted a huge magnifying glass on the dashboard and picked it up to remind her how bad her eyesight had become, we started laughing so hard that we couldn't stop. We finally got to the bar and sat down to order a couple of those blended margaritas with barely a sniff of Tequila in them. But, while we were waiting for drinks, the subject turned to poop. I remarked that my siblings sure had a knack for plugging the toilet.

And then she said, "Hah! You think they are bad; I should introduce you to my good friend, Jan. She knows someone whose poop is so thick she has to carry a stick in her purse."

We got kicked out of the bar before our first drink.

Relief, at Last

The Shawl is out of the house! Yowza!

I never thought I'd be so relieved to see something I put so much heart and soul into leave for good.

Talk about Knitting Emotion Overload.

Friends, never ever knit for all the wrong reasons. Knit for the right ones, like these:

• The devil made me do it
• The yarn called out to me
• . . . but it was in my stash!
• I thought I was a size 32 bust and I just had to cast on
• They said it was a "quick knit"
• Dog sweaters are all the rage, and I just couldn't pass on the opportunity
• It's in my school colors
• Eco-friendly--what can I say!?
• I thought of you every stitch I made
• I've finally committed to knit for the following season so I'm getting busy; leave me alone
• I never told you this, but I'm actually a test knitter

So, The Bunny is back from the hospital. She's doing okay. Turns out, she has the beginnings of some kidney disease, which is normal for a 14-year old cat. She also has some pretty huge goiters (it runs in my family) but she only has some minor hyperthyroidism. The doc took out two tumors and you can't even see the suture along her eye. The larger one, the one on her hip, is quite graphic, so I won't show you a picture of that. Let's just say she is on the mend and although we chose not to biopsy the sites further, it appears that she might be cancer free. Fingers crossed.

On knitting news: There isn't much. I have completed the front ribbing for the second version of the Yogini Bolero and will start on the sleeves tomorrow. I have spent the past three weeks in hovering mode so I'm hoping that having an "empty-er" house will revive me a bit.

Oh, and another thing, I was feeling so happy about the apparent absence of the Boyfriend Shawl that I made pork for dinner.

The "Boyfriend" Shawl

This shawl is FINALLY complete. I sucked it up and finished the whole thing over the weekend. This shawl has been the albatross that has weighed me down for at least two years and it is DONE. Done like the hamburgers in California. Totally done, done, done. Done to death. Overdone. DONE. A hockey puck that wants to be called Medium Rare, but, like my dad always said when I muttered the word, "Shoot:"

"Well, we all know what that is, Wendy, 'shoot' is 'sh*t' with two O's."

This sucker is finito.

This is the last time I will make such a huge commitment to someone without a pre-nup. This was supposed to be a joint affair, remember? It was supposed to be a "you crochet a motif/I crochet a motif/a "We Will Make This Together" thing and well, it didn't turn out that way.

I won't re-hash the ordeal, except to say, if this thing doesn't leave the house on Wednesday in someone's suitcase, I will very likely donate it to a very nice person who looks a bit chilly or who has a touch of The Low Thyroid.

Project Details
Name: Don't Ask but it is on page 63 of RY's Classic Holiday Book Three
Yarn: RYC Cashsoft in Tape
Number of balls used: 10 (it called for 12)
Crochet Hook in Size D (3.75mm)
Modifications: Left off the little triangles at the top--didn't think the shawl needed them; left off the fringe
Overall impression: Had I made this the way we meant to (meaning "together"), I would have loved it. It was a long haul making all those individual motifs, but in all honesty, it took me only about 20 minutes for each motif. That said, it is a perfect take-along project. The motifs look difficult, but once you figure out how to make one, you'll have it memorized within a few motifs--unless, of course, the sucker takes you two years to complete like mine did. Putting the thing together was a breeze.

I will never, ever make another one.

Not even for myself.

I never want to see it again.

Whew. Glad that is over with.

BTW: Here is a sneak peak of the little Yogini Bolero I just finished. I'm working on a linen version with flow-y long sleeves, and once that is done, I'll have the pattern edited. I'll keep you guys posted.