Birds of a Feather

Spring weather has been cool with rain and even snow into late April and early May. The temperatures are too cool for planting tomatoes but good for knitting.  I finished this baby sweater and am knitting a hat to match.

                                                                   

I also cast on Piper's Journey, a crescent shawl with a simple border attached to a body of garter stitch.  I am knitting it in sport weight "Chickadee" yarn by Quince and Company. The yarn is 100% wool and has a lovely hand. 

Quince and Company, located in Maine, spins and dyes American wool and linen "sourced from overseas earth friendly suppliers" in a restored mill. Although they use minimal recyclable packaging, ink, and paper in products, their design aesthetic is sophisticated and beautiful. Cleverly, they named yarn lines after birds: chickadee, finch, tern, sparrow, lark, and owl.  For all of these reasons, I think their yarn company is worth supporting.

In other Spring aviary news, a robin is working on a nest in the clump birch outside my window. She is building on the southeast side of the tree where a strong limb meets one of the tree trunks.The tree will shelter her nest from the north and west wind while the house will protect it from the south.  This morning a pair of young cardinals call to each other and a chickadee searches for insects in the bark. A bluejay flew in to inspect the nest and a starling contributed one twig. Maybe this nest is a community building project. I'll be interested to see if the robin can maintain her claim on the nest.

                                                                                                                                                                 Meanwhile, a group of starlings continues to tut- tut on the ground underneath the tree. They keep their beady eyes on the small space in front of them, pecking at the ground for no good reason and then occasionally gobbling up earthworms before glancing around to see if their neighbor needs food.  Following each other in shiny black suits, they remind me of groups of U.S. Senators sticking together as they totter around opening and closing their throats in self-importance. In the evening the starlings roost together in the birch, cackling noisily and soiling the ground below them. Perhaps the robin's nest, just under another limb, is protected from the starlings' mess. I wish the American robin the best of luck as she attempts to build a home and rear a family during this precarious Spring.   

Spring Irony

I've finished my version of the  Deephaven Cowl and mismatched mittens from Prairie Silk Yarn by Brown Sheep Company. I modified the cowl pattern so both edges are the same. Working late into several evenings while listening to an audio book, I lost track of rows knitted on the second mitten. Although I tried three times, I made mismatched mittens. The thumb construction, made by knitting a piece of waste yarn into the hand which are later unraveled and picked up to make the thumb, left holes which I cinched up with needle and yarn. This may or may not be due to the pattern design. Still, I felt like my workmanship on the mittens was inferior. I planned to wear both pieces next winter and then the temperature dropped and snow fell.

 After trying on the mittens, I took them off and looked at the way my thumb grows from the top of my wrist.  The curve of my hand tells me a gusset made by increasing stitches just above the cuff makes more sense than knitting the thumb from an opening created by knitting stitches with waste yarn. I think the mitten would fit better and it wouldn't pull the cable sideways. Many mitten patterns use the waste yarn method so adjusting the position of  thumb stitches might improve the fit. The cable design in this pattern is the same on both mittens. Since I prefer cables to mirror each other, I'll pay more attention to cable twists in the future. However the mittens are serviceable and warm and there are no knitting police, I declared the mittens finished and counted them as a lesson learned.    

     

Life is full of irony, including spring weather and knitting. While the cowl pattern, was designed to be asymmetrical, I modified the pattern to make it symmetrical. The mittens were intended to be symmetrical but due to my errors ended up asymmetrical. For now, this yarn and I are finished. The two leftover skeins are in the basket of yarn scraps waiting for another day. Perhaps because I went to a funeral last week, life seems too short to reknit a mitten four times.  Even though the daffodils are drooping after April cold and snow, the rhubarb is up. I have a baby sweater that needs buttons, and a lovely garter stitch shawl on the needles.  Forward into Spring!

Butterflies and Robins in the Winter

Two days ago we had heavy snowfall and I am grateful for the moisture.  I love the peace of January but by March I'm ready for warmth and color. Today, the sky is blue and a stiff March wind is blowing.  I think it is a Spring chinook that will help melt seven inches of snow. Whenever I feel winter weary, I think of my great grandmothers and how relieved they must have been when the year turned toward Spring.

Right before this last snowfall, I spotted crocus and daffodils coming up in my yard. This group of robins, huddled in the neighbor's apple tree, makes me hopeful. Perhaps best of all,  I made some yarn butterflies for a baby sweater.  My daughter and her husband are expecting their second child in August.  Butterflies and robins in February, wind and snow in March, and a new grandchild in August are sure signs of a changing season.

Teacher, What did you learn on your snow days?

Note for non-knitters:  Frogging and frog pond are not terms I created. Frogging is knitting jargon for the process of pulling needles out of all stitches and then tugging on the yarn to rip out a knitted piece. Rip it, rip it, rip it sounds like the ribbit, ribbit, ribbit of frogs. Frogging is faster than tinking back. Tink, knit spelled backwards, is undoing one stitch at a time. It is more tedious but sometimes necessary when repairing mistakes in textured or lace knitting.

During the two snow days last week, I ripped out an entire winter's worth of knitting.  I learned some worthwhile lessons from the frog pond.

1. Although knitting cardigans in one piece is tempting, patterns with more structure suit me better.  Seaming sweater pieces takes time but is not something I will actively avoid in the future.  Even when knitting sweaters in one piece, button bands and some sort of ribbing or edging give a garment more structure and fit.

 Greenfield Cardigan:  When I tried on the body of the sweater, the bottom rippled, the neckline sagged off my shoulders, and the fronts drooped. The leaf motif in the bottom front corners puckered. This pattern make work well for others but I prefer a more fitted sweater. I ripped the entire piece out and saved the yarn for future inspiration.  

2. There are no knitting police. Although the designer intended for one edge of the Deephaven Cowl to curl, I prefer two finished flat edges. I ripped out 8 inches of the cowl and started over with a pattern modification and one size larger needles. Larger needles make the tension in the stitches more comfortable for my hands and wrists. Before casting on the cowl, I tried to knit a vest with the "Prairie Silk" yarn by Brown Sheep. Even though I was knitting the yarn for the third time, it felt as if it had never been used. Brown Sheep Company no longer manufactures this yarn which is all the more reason to savor knitting the cowl. I hope to have enough yarn to make a matching pair of mittens.  

Deephaven Cowl by Blue Peninsula Designs

         

3. I need to learn more about shaping shawls by adjusting short rows. While knitting Twig and Leaf Shawl, I knew I'd run out of yarn before I came to the end of the project. In order to compensate, I increased the the length of short rows by one stitch. Doing this on enough rows to use 400 yards of yarn made an extremely long but narrow crescent shape garment that was neither shawl nor scarf.  I'm sure if I had knit the shawl in lace weight instead of fingering weight AND shaped the shawl as the pattern directed, the result would have been beautiful. The mistake is not the designers but mine. The yarn is too pretty to waste so I  ripped it all out and cast on another scarf.

Shallows by Blue Peninsula Designs

       
4.  Bonnie Sennot, the designer of Blue Peninsula Knits writes an artistic blog.  Her photos and posts are as lovely as her knitwear designs. The blog is inspiring in any weather.

5. Ripping out a winter's worth of knitting wasn't nearly as painful as I anticipated. In fact it is rather freeing. Now, I don't have to soldier on with projects that aren't going to have good results.  I'm just getting more enjoyment for the same amount of yarn money.

6. Knitting is both process and product. This winter my knitting was about process. I wonder if I could be as philosophical about my writing pieces and process. Both require practice, patience, and persistence. The finished products can be lovely and inspiring or frumpy and frustrating. Sometimes yarn is better suited to a soft scarf than a shawl. A piece of writing that begins as an essay ends up as a poem. While editing improves all writing, there are times when it is best to begin again.  

7. Snow day lessons are as tricky as the weather in Nebraska. As an example Storm Q which was predicted to bring as much as 18 - 20 inches dropped six inches instead. 

Gray Wool in January

I love the peace and quiet of January. Whether the sky is brilliant blue or deep gray, I find the contrast with bare trees and neutral colors restful. Simple meals of soup, fruit, and bread warm my body while quiet evenings indoors with a book, journal, or knitting restore my spirit. Early mornings and evenings, I wrap a shawl around my shoulders. These days, I'm enjoying my latest finished object, a Gray Wool Shawl.

In 2005, I began writing a story about my great grandmother and a gray wool shawl she made by unraveling yarn in an old sweater.  In 2009, while helping my Dad to the end of his life, I began the first gray wool shawl. I cast on stitches while I was at a Windbreak House Writing Retreat.  As I watched daylight fade from the short grass prairie, I taught myself to purl stitches using the continental method. Although, I loved the gray shade of the worsted weight wool/alpaca yarn, I decided the checkerboard pattern stitch was not something my practical great grandmother would have chosen.  When I returned home, I ripped out the stitches and cast on a garter stitch shawl.  After knitting on the piece for quite some time,  I admitted to myself the fabric was stiff enough to be a horse blanket. Once again, I ripped out the shawl. Eventually I knit a lovely warm sweater from the yarn.

Next I tried knitting a shawl from a lighter weight deep charcoal gray yarn and a beautiful Mountain Colors Yarn of deep variegated colors. The weight of the charcoal yarn was suitable but the combination of  the yarns created a triangular shawl that rippled in an unattractive way. Both of these yarns eventually became mittens given as Christmas gifts.

In July 2011, I bought some soft gray Frog Tree alpaca yarn spun into sport weight and cast on the Wool Peddlers Shawl. I adapted the pattern in several ways. I began with a garter stitch tab because it creates a more finished look. For the same reason, I changed the increases along the center spine of the shawl.  I also added one stitch to each edge because I think two stitches look better and are less prone to snagging. I finished the shawl on November 30, 2011.

In between all this knitting, I revised the Gray Wool Shawl Story several times. I'm still not certain the latest version accurately reflects my great grandmother's time and place so I'm about to work on the story again.  Like knitting, writing benefits from revision and new beginnings. Perhaps the quiet space in January will be conducive to a better story. Happy New Year!

  

Anniversary Sweater

In mid-July 2012, I began looking for a knitting project to soothe my way through the back to school routine and mother of the groom moments. Aaron was being married three weeks after my fall semester began.  After rummaging through storage bins, I decided to make a sweater from a mohair/wool yarn I had purchased ten years ago. "Tiur" by Dale of Norway is a soft, warm, sturdy yarn but I wondered why I had chosen the bright color. Maybe I had been thinking of Gram. She loved pink in all shades. She painted her nails, the kitchen cupboards, bathroom walls, and woodwork pink. She also knit several pink sweaters.  Even though I had reservations about knitting the yarn, she would have loved the color and the sweater.

As I worked the test swatch, I remembered the day I bought the yarn. Lance and I had traveled to New England to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary. That rainy, damp October day, we took a break from looking at fall foliage to have lunch in Laconia, New Hampshire.  After eating beside a fireplace in a cozy sandwich shop, Lance went out to the car with a book and I headed into the small yarn shop. The owner knitted behind the counter as I examined yarn and labels. When I finally made my selection, she gave me good advice on yardage for a cardigan.

Ten years later while browsing Ravelry, I discovered the Miriam cardigan published by Quince and Company.  Located in Maine, the independent company sells patterns created by company owners as well as independent designers. They spin yarn from American wool and fibers grown in an earth friendly manner. The pattern and the yarn were a good match.

As I knit the body of the sweater in July and into August, the knitting collected my anxious thoughts and good wishes for my son's wedding. The rehearsal dinner, wedding, and reception went well. Aaron and Jacque celebrated in their unique way with friends and family. During the reception, I danced with my son to Louis Armstrong's, "What a Wonderful World."

As August melted into September and October, I knit the sleeves of the sweater. After knitting six inches I knew they would be too wide so I ripped them out. I cast on fewer stitches but increased the sleeve width at the rate called for in the pattern. Late October, I blocked the sweater and held my breath while sewing up the sleeve seams. I worried they might be too tight around the upper arm but was pleased to find the sweater fit well. Before knitting the front band, I washed and blocked the sweater.

Three days ahead of our 35th wedding anniversary,  I picked up over 200 stitches to knit the front band onto the cardigan. On November 20th we went out to our favorite local restaurant to mark the anniversary. Wearing the sweater that evening would have made a tidy ending to this story.  However, I had no desire to knit furiously to meet a self-imposed deadline. I did knit one row on the evening of the 20th so the sweater would include a remembrance of our 35th anniversary.  Four days later at the end of the Thanksgiving weekend, I knit the last stitches of the sweater.  Now, I look forward to wearing the sweater and recalling our anniversaries and my wedding dance with Aaron.

I've also decided to quit fretting over accumulated yarn in my closets. Perhaps yarn, like seasoned marriages, benefits from time to create rich stories and warm sweaters.

Local Produce: Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Wool

Ten days ago, the season changed. Light in the early evening  is golden and over night temperatures dip down to freezing. I love autumn and mark the season with my own rituals. One night I picked the remaining rosebuds and several bouques of lavender. The next evening, I filled three colanders with herbs. As I washed and laid them on a paper towel, the scent of parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme, oregano, and chives filled the kitchen. After a few hours on the counter, I stacked the towels in two piles and put them in the fridge. In a few weeks, I'll crumble them and put them in containers in my kitchen cupboards. Since this is the first year I've grown sage, I'm looking forward to seasoning soups, roasted chicken, and the Thanksgiving turkey.

Sage

I also continue knitting on warm weather gear. Among other projects, I am working on the Deephaven Cowl in Prairie Silk yarn by Brown Sheep Company. The textured stitches keep the project interesting but not so challenging I can't knit on them in the evening at the end of my work day. The periwinkle color suits me and the yarn is dense, warm, and soft to the touch.

When I bought the yarn twelve years ago, I knew the company was located in Mitchell, Nebraska. Brown Sheep Company manufactures and dyes yarn on a farm that has been in their family for several generations. Owners, Peggy and Robert Wells buy most of their wool from growers in northern Colorado and southern Wyoming. In addition, they have developed a process to reuse 70-90% of the water used in the manufacturing process. The Prairie Silk line has been discontinued but the company has other yarns available. Maybe the slight silk content of the yarn didn't meet Brown Sheep criteria for environmentally friendly manufacturing or maybe obtaining and/or manufacturing yarn with silk was too expensive. However, their other yarns are a good quality. I've enjoyed using the Lamb's Pride worsted for warm hats and mittens. More recently, I knit a Christmas stocking for my grandson from Lanaloft Sports Weight yarn. The yarn felt good in my hands and worked well for the intarsia pattern.

Now, knitting the cowl brings back memories of the trip my daughter and I took to celebrate our milestone birthdays of twenty one and fifty. At her suggestion, we drove west to Montana. Along the way, we hiked around Devil's Tower in Wyoming, drove the Bear Tooth Pass, and stayed at a lovely old hotel in Red Lodge, Montana. We enjoyed the shops and restaurants in Red Lodge. By the time we arrived, the local yarn shop owner had moved the shop to her home. After a phone call, we meandered around the outskirts of Red Lodge and located the shop where I bought the Prairie Silk. Like most knitters I buy yarn from many sources but I try to support local businesses and increasingly, I like to know how yarns are produced.  I also like the idea of a warm wrap around my neck in December and January.