knit and tonic

New Release!

I'm thrilled to announce the release of my new book The Knitting All Around Stitch Dictionary! Like the companion volume, The Up, Down, All-Around Stitch Dictionary that was released in 2014, it contains 150 base stitch patterns which I present to be knitted not only in its original, "flat" orientation, but also converted to in-the-round, top-down and bottom up. So, with this book, you'll have literally hundreds of ways to knit the stitch patterns in the book.

This latest volume contains a new section, Mosaics. (In addition to Knits and Purls, Fancy, Lace, Ribs, and Cables.)

Oh, and did I mention that each stitch pattern is presented by chart and fully written out?

When I get a chance to talk to people about writing these books, they almost always mention how tough it must be to "crack" each of the stitch patterns. Yup. It is hard. The thing is, I do like knitting in the round and top-down, so while designing new knitting patterns it occurred to me that books like these would be helpful to other knitters who, even though many have the skills to convert them on their own, would like a handy reference at their fingertips that does all the work for them.

If you want a peek, check out this link for a free tidbit from the book, a recipe for a basic top-down double triangle shawl.

BLOG TOUR (Mark your calendars!)

4/28 - Leethal

5/2 - Yarniacs

5/5 - Mason-Dixon Knitting

5/9 - Craft Sanity

5/11 - WEBS

5/16 - Knitcircus

5/ 18 - AboutKnitting.com

5/23 - Craftgossip

 

It Started with Just a Square

Yeah, I've made quilts and afghans before. A whole load of them. I crocheted a baby blanket for a friend but I think I didn't really know how to add new yarn or sew in ends in those days. All I recall is going to visit the baby and see that the afghan was falling apart. I was embarrassed but the mom, I think, felt worse. She blamed herself and tried to hide the flaws from me and promised to put it back together.

I also made this huge crocheted Christmas afghan for my step mom. It must weigh 20 pounds. It's your classic Red Heart and the trees are made with these huge bobbles. She still brings it out every Christmas after probably 25 years. You gotta hand it to the people at Red Heart. That stuff can't be destroyed. Better, I think I got the weaving-in-the-ends thing correct on that one because, from the looks of it, it's still a piece of iron--a solid piece of iron.

And then there was another crocheted blanket I made for another new baby. It was just single crochet in a nice blue. After I made the blanket, I went in and cross-stitched a Noah's ark theme on top of the fabric. It was sooooo cute. One thing I remember about it, though, is that I received a curious thank you note. It basically said: "thanks for making this but you shouldn't have. It is too warm out here for such an item. I'll put it in storage."

Such is the way of these things. We can't blame ourselves. Well, maybe I should blame myself for the one that fell apart, but this stuff happens. That Christmas one--the one that'll outlive us all--is an obvious success. All the others? Probably so. The fact that at one point they even got completed is, in of itself, a triumph. Have you noticed how many hand crafters never finish their projects? 

They especially don't finish the big ones.

But this one. This one. This one makes me so happy. 

It just started with a square I knit out of boredom.

And each day, without a plan, I made another square. Different sock yarn (all of it is sock yarn), same square. Some squares are with self-striping yarn, others are solid, semi-solid or self-patterning.

By the time that stack started to topple, I decided to count the squares. I didn't really want to stop and count because I thought it might stop me from enjoying the ride, but I knew that at some point, I'd have to know when it was time to begin thinking about how I'd put it all together. And with what color yarn. 

My goal was to buy no new yarn for this and flying by the seat of my pants as it were, I knew I'd have to have enough of one color to connect all the squares.

Now that the blanket lives in strip form, I will start to connect the strips. Part of me doesn't want to finish it.

I don't know why. It's just that, when you spend so much time working on something that has given you so much joy, you don't want it to be over. Kind of like that car your dad worked on every weekend in the garage for years. The one that he dreamt about, befriended, reupholstered, and searched only for original parts when fixing it up and then finally having to give up working on it simply because it was "time."

It's like a tiny little death, you know?

Clara Parkes' "Knitlandia," and a Giveaway!

To me, traveling has always been rife with the unknown, but in a bad way.

There was once a multi-week trip to Mexico on a Mexican train when I was about 10. Let’s just say, it was the trip from heck. To list just a few items on the itinerary: 

• A man got decapitated on that train while sitting on a toilet and hanging his head out the window for a breeze; said train had to be stopped for about six hours while the authorities investigated
• My mom ate a fresh tomato and ended up in a hospital in Mexico City
• My brother and father got stung by a man-o-war jellyfish and one of them stopped breathing
• On the way home, opting to rent a car, we had only $1.26 left and bought a drumstick and a thigh from Kentucky Fried Chicken. My brother got carsick on the 15-hour plus car ride home and all I remember was watching him hang his head out the window and praying his head wouldn’t get cut off

To say I’m not a good traveler is an understatement.

So, when I read Knitlandia: A Knitter Sees the World by Clara Parkes, I was awe struck. How does she do it? How does she watch and see and listen and view these adventures the way she does?

I read her chapter, “Perky Skeins and Fast Cars,” about visiting Vogue Knitting Live for the first time in Los Angeles. Oddly enough, I was there! I was there the same time as Clara! For me, it was all about dealing with traffic and getting there in one piece (which doesn’t really have anything to do with me; it’s all Los Angeles’ fault, friends), but for Clara, it was a totally different matter.

You’ll read the chapter as I did, but what pleased me the most is the way she was able to step back and see the character of Los Angeles through a prism that I cannot see. To read her description of the way the show sailed in and sailed out the way you might see when you watch a play—you know how the sets just magically get torn down and put up in a flash? Well, that’s just how she described it. And, she’s right. I am so entrenched in this stuff that I have never stopped to watch it all and see it clearly with fresh eyes.

This book is a treasure.

I will be giving away a copy of this book. In comments, tell me your favorite/least-favorite adventure and I'll randomly choose a name!

Comments will be closed in one week. The giveaway is limited to US and Canada. - COMMENTS NOW CLOSED.

If you want to follow the blog tour for Knitlandia, here it is:

Feb 24: My Sister's Knitter

Feb 26: Mary Jane Muckelstone

Feb 29: Knit Circus

March 2: Yarniacs

March 4: Leethal

March 7: Tin Can Knits

March 17: Marly Bird Yarn Thing Podcast

I Can't Spare a Square

Knitting square after square--I think you pretty much know that's all I've been up to lately--has made me realize that the act of knitting, a mundane activity on the surface, has a lot more to it.

Wait: Maybe I should listen to my inner-editor and instead of walking around a point, get to the point. What I mean to say is, "There's a lot more to knitting than what it appears to be on the surface."

A long time ago, someone wrote to me and asked me to send her all my odd balls of fingering/sock-weight yarn. I said I would. Somehow, either I lost her email or life got in the way, and all the balls stayed here in the house. Since then, and it's been at least six years, I kept it in the back of my mind--that I never sent her all my leftover yarn, and I felt bad.

All this time passed, and the other day I decided that I'd make a square. Just one square, because I hadn't ever made a log cabin square. I picked up some yarn I had leftover from a recent sock-knitting binge and got knitting. And as I knit up square after square, my mind drifted over to that Apple Store bag full of old sock yarn that I had hid away for that now unknown and semi-forgotten, would-be recipient.

I looked for it. I couldn't find it. I knew it had to be somewhere, but I just couldn't find it. I sat down another day or two, knitting squares from "recent" yarn, and looked for it again to no avail.

Then, on a lark, I looked in a completely unusual place: My daughter's closet, right up at the top and behind some junk. There it was.

I opened it up, and peered into the bag. Year's-old yarn looked back up at me. Most of it was stuff I didn't remember ever knitting with, but I knew that I must have. Why? It was all balled up, some of it caked, some of it ragged with Chuck's hair here and there. None of it weighed what it once did. So, I must have knit with it at some point, right?

Since then, I have knit square after square with this old, forgotten yarn.

And something happened. 

As I knit the squares, this weird sensation started happening. Do you know when you wake up from a dream and you fully remember it but as the day goes on, you try and try to remember it and the images and memories keep sneaking away?

Or, you smell a scent. It could be pine or dust or something else, and it brings back a memory?

Or even driving along and an old song that you haven't heard in such a long time comes on the radio and it brings you back to a night in the front seat of an orange Bronco sitting next to a boy that you wish liked you back?

Knitting is like that. But it is tactile. Even though I don't remember exactly what each ball of yarn in that bag became, my fingers remember. I feel like, with each square I knit, that I'm chasing a memory.

And even though it is a little sad on the surface, it is fine by me.

Knitworthy

Yesterday, we went to the local surf shop because Girlfriend needed new bushings for her skateboard. When we were there, she picked up a maroon knit cap, plopped it on, and asked: "Can I get this one, mom?"

Without skipping a beat, I said: "What, are you trying to insult me?"

Top-down cap in Wollmeise, for the win.

Stay tuned.

 

Dog, Horse or Bird?

One thing that I can tell you for sure, is that from this point on, I will be weaving in my ends as I go.

Most of the time--especially with garments--I never ever weave in as I knit. Why? A couple of times I did just that and then ended up having the frog the entire shebang and deal with cutting out knots, finding where ends were woven in and losing a ton of yarn in the process, not to mention what I consider to be one of my better characteristics: Easy-going-ness. Ha.

So, I started, on a lark, knitting some log cabin squares. I haven't ever really knit a log cabin square so I poked around a bit and came up with what I thought was a wonky enough square that would lend itself to sock yarn leftovers that have color changes. I'm not a matchy-girl so it suits me just fine to knit the squares and have them look off kilter.

And so I knit. 

And knit.

And I swear: I'm not bored. Just waiting for something to happen, if you know what I mean. Writers dabble in words or write whatever the heck comes to mind when the words don't come easy. Artists? I'm not much of one, but I bet they must have some exercise they do to get the juices flowing. Me? I guess I just knit squares.

Come to think of it, my last two books required that I knit hundreds of swatches. Square-shaped swatches. So there you go: Now that those two books are under my belt and the next one comes out this Spring, I'm back at knitting squares.

Call me an old dog, or maybe a horse that knows its way home when his rider falls off and dies or something. Or call me a homing pigeon, or one of those zany swallows that poops everywhere when they finally arrive back home.

Or maybe don't call me at all. I'm too busy with this thing.

Guilty Pleasures

All I have wanted to knit lately are socks. Socks socks socks and only socks. I forced myself to make a couple of hats lately, but since about November all I have wanted to knit are socks. I probably knit six or seven pair in the past couple of months. I even went through all of my half-knit socks that I have carried with me to and from the beach the past couple summers, shook the sand out of them, and finished them up.

I wanted to take a picture of all these socks but you know what? I gave almost all of them away. Three to HWWV, two to girlfriend, one to her best friend and now all I have left is the pair here and two others that are now lonely, waiting for friends.

Thing is, I feel guilty.

There are so many other things that I could be doing with my free time--and I have a lot of it these days--but in the end, I just want to knit socks.

Am I depressed? (I don't think so.) Is sock yarn addictive? Maybe so.

Which brings me to this: I had this idea to take my sock yarn leftovers and make log cabin blocks. I figure, even though I'm not making socks, I'm knitting with the sock yarn, so it's the next best thing, right?

Problem is, now all I want to do is knit these little sock-yarn blocks.

I am doomed, that much I can tell you.

BTW: The sock yarn that I used to make these socks is Opal Brazil yarn. It is discontinued, but I do swear by all the Opal sock yarns. The wear like iron.

Phantom Sock Syndrome, a New Paradigm

Picture it: One day before Thanksgiving and a potentially 20-hour round trip in a car facing me. I will be the passenger. What does any self-respecting knitter do? Pack a project or two, or three.

Since I've been on a sock binge, I decided that I'd finish a pair of socks I was working on, so I packed it all in my project bag and placed it in the front seat.

And after I had about an hour under my belt in bumper-to-bumper traffic, I decided it was time to take it out and get knitting. To my dismay, I hadn't packed the completed sock to compare (and I didn't write down the measurement), and the one on the needles was just up to what might be the beginning of the toe shaping. 

Should I wing it?

But what if the sock comes out a different length?

To my dismay, to be safe I just put the project away. Each mile was an agony. Never mind I brought another skein of sock yarn to work on. I was just too depressed.

So, after a great Thanksgiving weekend with family I rarely see, I faced yet another car trip home with nothing to do but stare out at a sea of vehicles. I even fantasized about taking out the near-finished sock and frogging it just to have something to do.

When I got home, I got down to the business of finding that other sock. I looked and I looked, but I couldn't find it. I looked at the floor of the car and under the seats to make sure I hadn't dropped it when I pulled out the project. To no avail, no matter what I did, I couldn't find the sock. I sat in my office watching Beverly Hills 90210 re-runs and meditating: Where was that dang sock?

Friends, it turns out there was never a completed sock.

There was only one sock: The one sock in my project bag. The one on the needles. I had gotten my self in such a lather about finishing the pair that I imagined I had finished the first sock.

I wasted almost 20 hours of driving with nothing to do. To boot, my husband (HWWV), after I told him the story, remarked, "I was wondering why you weren't knitting during the trip."

Ugh. I did finish the *first* sock today. Ugh Ugh Ugh.

They're all I Want to Knit These Days

Ever since I completed my upcoming book, The Knitting All Around Stitch Dictionary (available for preorder!), I have been in a complete and total knitting funk. And we're talking a huge funk. A funk-a-dunk. A funkity-funk-funk.

And it's not like I'm not interested in knitting per se. I love knitting. I love knitting to the moon and back. I love knitting like I love a nice, bubbly gin and tonic (well, almost as much). I love to knit like I love to fly in my dreams. I love knitting like I love a good, stinky cheese.

But even as much as I love a good, stinky cheese, there comes a time when I've had enough good, stinky cheese and I have to switch to a creamy brie. But cheese is cheese. And knitting is knitting. And after knitting about 300 swatches for the new book, I just can't focus on anything other than knitting socks.

Ever since I knit my first pair of socks many years ago, they've become my go-to project whenever I'm low, whenever I want to knit without thinking, whenever I need something portable. So this is what I've been doing since my last post. I've been knitting socks.

Starting with the blue patterned socks at the bottom of the picture and working clockwise: Regia Design Line by Arne & Carlos in Moonlight, Knitterly Things Vesper Sock Yarn in a color I can't recall (When I knit mindlessly I tend to throw away or lose ball bands), Regia 6-Fadig Color in Nature, Knitterly Things Vesper Sock Yarn Glitterful in Majestic and Regia Design Line by Arne & Carlos in Twilight.

And now, I've cast on with my very favorite sock yarn of all time: Opal (This one is Brasil which is now discontinued but I love almost all the Opal line). This stuff is stiff as all get out but boy, you can beat the socks with a stick and they'll last practically forever!

 

New Class on Creativebug!

I'm so happy to announce another class by me that is now available on Creativebug. This time, I show you how to make some cute pom pom socks. These make perfect gifs, the project is portable and they're super quick to knit. I was just there filming a handful of classes, and this is one of the five that we made. I believe that they're releasing one a month, so stay tuned for more.

One of the great things about Creativebug is that you can get unlimited classes for only $4.95 a month. There are a lot of knitting, crochet, sewing, quilting--even illustration and painting classes.

So check it out! There's even a way to try two weeks free!