January Days

As I write, light powdery snow sifts down on a bitterly cold morning. Last week my daughter safely delivered a healthy baby boy. He arrived to the open arms of his family and extended family. This beautiful little guy is a lucky one. His older brothers, aged 5 and 2, stayed with my husband and I for a few mostly delightful days. The two year old wore the same superman shirt, with a few peanut butter smears, for three days. In life with a two year, this is not a problem. We played, read lots of books, and took turns visiting the new babe and his Mom in the hospital. My husband and I are fortunate to be able to share this time with our daughter and son-in-law. They are all home now, trying to learn a new routine.

After picking up the house and restocking peanut butter and Cheerios, I am back to walking, writing, and reconsidering my knitting projects. Prior to the baby's arrival, I sorted through my yarn and knitting bags. I had knitting tools and notions tucked everywhere so I divided them into three small zippered bags and put them in a basket with patterns I might use soon. I sorted and stored the yarn by weight and made a few notes about what I might knit with the yarns.

Then I put three works in progress in separate bags, each with pattern, needles and yarns. When I actually looked at the projects I discovered a Goldilocks tale. The Oliveta Shawl was just right. The sock was too small and the sweater was too big. I ripped out the almost finished So Simple Silk Garden sock #1 (smallest size) because it wasn't going to stretch to fit. The cable running down the side of the leg was almost on top of the leg. I kept pulling it over to the side thinking, I can make this sock fit. Why, I wonder, does it take so long, to listen to the knitting voice that says, "stop, this isn't working." I cast on a different pattern, toe-up, to learn something new. That is a tale for another blog post. Sometimes knitting just goes haywire. 

I am also working on my version of a September Morn pullover. Evenings, I tried it on over flannel pajamas. When I finally put it on over a long sleeved T-shirt, I knew it was too big. The sweater body took more yarn than I had planned. Since knitting faster doesn't mean I won't run out of yarn, I ordered more. I enjoy the Quince and Co. Chickadee yarn but this shade is definitely a solid color with no tonal variations. Alternating skeins of different dye lots will produce a sweater with striped sleeves. I ripped out seven inches of the sweater body and am putting in more waist decreases. I'll gain a little yardage from the original dye lot but I don't know if it will be enough. I want this sweater to be warm and comfy with long sleeves. I may order a light gray in the same yarn base and go with a color block contrast.

My plan is to knit the body down to the ribbing and put the stitches on waste yarn. Before I start knitting sleeves with the remaining yarn, I'm going to weigh it and divide it so I can knit the same amount of light blue yarn in the sleeves before switching to the contrasting color. I plan to knit the neck ribbing in the contrasting color also. Wish me luck.

In the meantime, I'm going to bundle up in well fitting socks and sweater (I have a few of those) and take a walk in the snow. I plan to savor the peace of this January day while I dream about snuggling a newborn grandson. All is well.

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!