Knitting FO: Birthday Hat

Last year our knitting circle decided to organize a birthday swap of handknit cowls.  We had such a great time doing it that we're doing it again this year, only with hats.  Since there were a few birthdays that were happening quite soon, I volunteered to knit one of the first birthday hats of the year on a roughly three-week deadline.  The hat ended up being made entirely out of handspun, although I could never have guessed that this is what I'd end up using the handspun for!  It started out as a bump of fiber from Hello Yarn in the colorway Garden Walk:

which I then tore into chunks of similar color, carded into batts,

and spun into into mini-skeins of individual colors.  Here they're all tied up together for washing:

Now, I wasn't 100% pleased with this yarn.  I'd originally intended to knit it into handspun Fiddlehead mittens, but didn't feel that the weight of the yarn was quite right, or consistent enough for the pattern. So the yarn hung out in the stash for another two years.  Enter the "With Love from Norway" hat pattern, some white undyed cormo handspun yarn, and destiny took over.

I'm so in love with this hat.  It's a very cute pattern, and it looks great on its recipient. I was a little worried about the color in between the orange and green (it doesn't look too amazing all by itself, it's a little... barfy), but in the progression with all the other colors it looks great!

My handspun is a little lighter in weight than the yarn called for in the pattern, so I added two hearts to the circumference of the hat and knit it on size 4 needles instead of size 6. The best part is that I've forgotten how much yarn it takes to make a hat, and I'm nearly certain that I have enough yarn to make another one. 

That's right, it's time to start thinking about holiday knitting.  Dun dun dun.

 

Knitting FO: Owls Sweater

I have been wanting to make Kate Davies' Owls sweater for a long time, probably about 2 milliseconds after I discovered the pattern existed. It's taken me an embarrassingly long time to a) get around to knitting it and b) finishing the darn thing, given how well the design fits with the rest of my wardrobe. I first downloaded the pattern back when it was free, and then purchased it when the designer updated the pattern with better notes and more sizes. This project is a little different than others I've knit because I made lots of changes based on what other knitters said in their project notes on Ravelry.

Side view of the yoke

As an aside, I feel that this is one of the best uses of Ravelry, particularly for me since I'm not a model-sized person.  Although there are notable exceptions, not many designers photograph their work in a wide range of sample sizes, so I use Ravelry as a gallery of what any given pattern is going to look like on a larger body type.  I've definitely decided to not knit certain patterns when I discovered I didn't find them that flattering on larger people.

I actually made a ton of modifications to the pattern, starting with the yarn.  I knew from past experience that knitting a sweater out of very chunky yarn adds lots of bulk to my frame.  I certainly don't need to look like I have even more padding than what nature gave me.  Owls calls for a very bulky yarn, and the first thing I did while browsing the 5,000+ projects was see what lighter yarns folks had used to knit the pattern.  Cascade Ecological Wool was a clear winner and turned out to be quite reasonably priced, so I picked out a dark heathered brownish-grey (or is it greyish-brown?  I can't tell!).   The downside of having all this info from Ravelry at my fingertips is that it tells me that I stashed that yarn back in April of 2010.  Yikes!

Three skeins ought to be enough, right?

I started swatching in January to check my gauge like a good knitter, and worked out that I would need to make a sweater just a bit bigger than the largest size in order for it to fit me at the gauge I was getting.  Great, more math. While I was swatching, I made a sort of half-informed decision based on other knitters' project notes to just make up the body and sleeves as I went along.  My reasoning was that I would need to do lots of math to create a larger size anyway because of my gauge, and I've had issues with sleeves being too tight or too short in the past, so I might as well make it from scratch anyway.  So that's what I did!  I figured out how many stitches to cast on based on my swatch (which thankfully did not lie), then decreased at either side for some waist shaping, then increased again on either side for bust shaping, trying it on as I went.  I also remembered to always stand up when trying on the body of a sweater, so I wouldn't end up with something that was only long enough to cover the top of my jeans while sitting.  I finished the body up to the armpits in March, and then promptly declared sleeves to be boring and stuffed the whole thing in a tote bag for several months.

 

And this is where it stayed for three months. 

After finishing a pair of socks more suddenly than I'd intended, I needed to grab something in a hurry for knit night, and remembered that all I had was boring sleeves. Since I was running late, I didn't have time to pick something out of the stash, so it had to be sleeves. I was smart and did my sleeves two-at-a-time though, so at least I didn't have to take too many notes on what I was doing in order to get matching sleeves. After joining the sleeves to the body, the sweater got to be quite unwieldy and not really that good for knitting on the bus, so my progress slowed a bit.  But since I'd been bitten by the sewing bug, a part of me really wanted to include this sweater as part of my Seam Allowance goals.  I know a lot more about knitting than I do about sewing, and I think it shows in how well the sweater turned out.

The whole sweater!

I also opted to only sew buttons on one of my owls for a more understated look, as many other Ravelers have done.  I like to think of my owls as being mostly sleepy, with one awake to see what's up.  Now that this sweater is done, I learned that I like my sleeves a LOT longer than what's usually written in a pattern.  The cuffs can be pulled down almost to my knuckles, which keeps my hands warm.  I was able to apply a lot of the knowledge I gained in Ysolda's class last year to make sure that this sweater fit just the way I want it to.  Finally, this sweater is going to be very versatile.  I can pair it with a skirt, tights, and boots for work, or just with jeans for a weekend.  The yarn is warm enough for foggy mornings and evenings, but not knit too dense for California.  I'll be testing it out while we're on vacation next week in another typically cool and misty environment: Scotland!  I have one more regular blog post lined up to run while we're gone, and many adventures to share when we return!

Knitting FO: Lunasea Socks

I could probably temporarily rename this blog "Adventures in knitting stuff that I've had queued on Ravelry for more than 2 years", with the way I've been choosing projects lately.  The latest FO is another pair of socks (first official knitting project for the Seam Allowance!): the Monkey pattern by Cookie A., out of Blue Moon Socks That Rock Lightweight in the Lunasea colorway.  This sock yarn has, in the past, been a little odd to work with. It's a very dense sock yarn, really almost a sport weight compared to stuff like Tosh sock or Malabrigo sock.  It's also very tightly spun and plied, and thus it's not nearly as rub-against-your-cheek-and-sigh soft as those, either.  It knits up into an incredibly hard-wearing fabric, though.  Of all the sock yarns I've knit with, the socks I've knit out of this yarn have yet to get holes (and after five years of being in the rotation, that's saying something).

Gauge has been tricky for me with this yarn in the past, though.  Knitting it up on size 0's is ridiculously dense: more like kevlar than socks.  Knitting on size 1.5's often yields a sock that is comically large in the foot, though.  Oh, and I should mention that only recently have I acquired size 1 sock needles.  So for these socks, I knit the feet on size 1's and the legs on size 1.5's, and it worked like a charm!  They fit nicely, and I'm still as in love with this colorway as I was when I first purchased the yarn back in 2007 (yikes).

 

Just like everyone else in knitterdom has told you, the Monkey pattern is a great one.  There's a reason it's so popular: the lace pattern isn't too hard to read or memorize, it does a great job of breaking up any potential pooling in your variegated yarns, and the rest of the sock construction is straightforward.  I will almost certainly knit this pattern again sometime, as I still have lots of variegated sock yarn in the stash.  

Starting thoughts on the Seam Allowance project

One of my larger goals this summer is to learn more about sewing clothing.  I took a garment-sewing class at Verb during spring break (and meant to blog about it then, really I did!) and eventually finished the top.  I like the shirt quite a bit, and have worn it four or five times since completing it.  For those who are interested, this is the "Violet" top by Colette Patterns, and the fabric is a lightweight cotton floral print by Lecien. 

Joining the fronts and back of the shirt.

It got me excited to sew more clothing, but I didn't have the mental energy to put together anything more complicated than a quilt with rectangles during the second half of the semester.  As final exams wound down, my thoughts returned to more clothing.  Knitting sweaters is all well and good in October, but in June my thoughts were on breezy tank tops and sundresses.  As she so often does, Kristine at Verb read my mind and has started an initiative that she's named "Seam Allowance".  In my head, I've been imagining this as a learning community and support network. It's well-timed both in terms of my interests and work schedule; summers are always less hectic for me. So this is what my kitchen table looks like these days (except messier, and with more fabric scraps scattered all over the place):

The sewing station.

The Seam Allowance pledge is to make 25% of your wardrobe, and all forms of creating garments are allowed: sewing, knitting, weaving, crochet, etc.  I have to admit that I was a little hesitant at first; 25% sounds like a lot of clothes when I consider my closet and dresser.  Am I over-committing myself to a project that I will burn out on once my work picks up again in the fall? And what does 25% of my wardrobe even mean?  What do I want it to mean?  What do I want to get out of this?  What do I want to learn?  How do I want to change?  

Another Violet shirt, this time out of midweight cotton from a discount store in Anaheim.

I decided to join after doing some thinking.  Yes, 25% of my wardrobe feels like a lot, but that's primarily because I have lots of clothing that I don't wear.  Some of these items just aren't for everyday (pantyhose and strapless party dress, I'm looking at you).  I have no guilt or anxiety about hanging onto these items or having purchased them instead of making them.  Some of them are for everyday, and I'm holding onto them for slightly sentimental reasons even though I don't wear them.  This category includes clothing items that were gifts but don't quite fit my style, band t-shirts purchased at concerts out of commemoration, and clothing that used to fit but is a little too small these days.  Some (maybe most) of these items should probably go to the donation bin.  So one of the things I'm hoping to get out of my participation in Seam Allowance is to make more conscious decisions about my wardrobe, and thus keep it to a manageable size.  Kristine suggested that 25% could mean that we have enough handmade clothing to wear one handmade item every day.  I still haven't quite decided what I want 25% to mean, but I think I'd like to define a core set of clothing items that are in "regular rotation" (i.e., they get worn at least once every two weeks, or something like that) and have 25% of my regular rotation items be handmade. 

I also have several goals involving body image that are tied up in Seam Allowance, but I'll write more about those later because they really deserve their own post.  

Oh, and I'm counting all my handknit socks, too.  

Knitting FO: Darjeeling Socks

A large portion of the sock yarn I own was collected between 2007-2009, or as I'm going to call them, "The Variegated Years".  This was a time when I was fresh out of grad school, dizzy with the prospect of a real honest-to-goodness paycheck coming in every month.  It was during this time period that my stash size exploded, and one very big enabler instigator assistant in this process was The Loopy Ewe.  Now, don't get me wrong, I love Sheri over at Loopy.  She helped me build a very nice sock yarn stash that is a beautiful (if a bit worryingly large) source of inspiration. 

This yarn, Numma Numma Toasty in the colorway "Apple Butter" was no exception.  And plus, it's mostly browns and tans!  They're neutrals, so they'll go with anything, right? Right, except we have to actually KNIT the socks before we can dash around in their delicious golden-hued warmth, pretending we live somewhere the leaves on trees change color in the fall.  I actually went back to my order history and saw that this yarn was purchased in January 2008, which means I've had this yarn sitting around in my stash for more than four years.

I bet if, back in 2002 you'd asked my husband-now-but-boyfriend-at-the-time if this knitting thing would go this far, he would not have ever suspected that I could be the type of person capable of purchasing yarn and then hanging onto it for more than 4 years because it was just too pretty to let go.  What can I say?  Must be the wool fumes.

If I love the yarn so much, how come it's taken this long?  Well, I went off sock knitting for a while, and then just when I started to get back on the wagon, something had shifted subtly in sock knitting.  Before, everyone was looking at color combos and coming up with hilariously funny (and sometimes punny) names for their colorways.  Now, it was all about solids and semi-solids and shaded solids.  Or self-striping, but in the very meticulous way that means you probably just want to knit a plain old pair of stockinette socks and not put any kind of stitch pattern on there to muss up the colors.  It was just that much more difficult to find a pattern that I could really visualize in a variegated yarn.

The Darjeeling Sock from Knitter's Book of Socks though, had all the hallmarks of being a good pattern for a very colorful yarn.  Purl-stitch rows, broken ribbing, and on top of that it has interesting arch shaping in an unexpected place!  I was flipping through the book trying to decide which pattern to knit after finishing my pajama socks, and knew this would be next.  And I was right, it's great for variegated yarn.

I've since finished these socks, and they're very nice.  I've learned to make my socks a tiny bit longer in the feet, since the soles of my socks tend to felt a tiny bit and shrink up after many wearings, and I think this will help them hold up a little better.  I did the surprisingly stretchy bind-off at the top of these socks, which was a new technique for me.  I knit these until I practically ran out of yarn, so they end quite high on my leg and the extra stretch is more than welcome.  I'll probably knit this pattern again, and I think the only thing I'd change is the pattern on the heel flap, which was a little hard to keep track of during knitting.  But other than that, I can't wait to add these beauties into my sock rotation on the next chilly morning! 

Spinning Update: A sweater for the husbeast

For the longest time, I've been avoiding posting about my spinning because it's been so boring.  I mean, when your husband starts asking when he'll get his own handspun handknit sweater, it's such a happy moment.  I had so much fun with the first one!  Washing the fleece, immersing myself (literally) up the elbows in the processing of what comes off the sheep into a wearable garment.  That thing is my go-to sweater for beach parties.  It all sounds like so much fun, until you stop and think about all the knitted items you've made for yourself that never get worn, or get worn so infrequently that it hardly seems worth the effort you put into them in the first place.  You begin to realize that you'll just kill yourself if you make something that he wouldn't wear, so you have to start asking him about clothing preferences.

Let's just summarize a few facts here.  The husbeast is the kind of person that A) doesn't like anything too fancy (no colorwork) B) naturally runs a little warm and thus C) owns precisely one other sweater.  Oh, and this is the sort of sweater I want him to feel comfortable wearing around the home, so nothing too tight.  Did I mention that the man is also 6 feet tall, and has extra-long arms for his height?  This is going to be one huge sweater, and if I was going to spin for it, that meant a major commitment to spinning a solid color. I started spinning the singles during last year's Tour de Fleece, and haven't gotten anything new on the wheel until last week! 

That's why my fleece (Blake, the one I got washed by Morro Fleece Works) was the perfect match for the project.  First, I have a TON of fiber. Ok, not an actual ton, more like 4+ pounds.  I tend to spin yarn that is denser than commercial yarn, so I knew having a large amount was important for a big sweater for a grown man.  Second, it's all one color.  Further to that, the beautiful chocolate brown is a color I know the husbeast won't find objectionable and since it's the natural color of the sheep's wool, it won't fade over the years the way something dyed might do.  Third, it's a really heavenly preparation from Morro, which means very little predrafting and overall faster spinning.

The challenges have been keeping myself motivated to keep spinning the same dark brown merino wool over the months, and to keep myself spinning consistently.  I made a few choices in designing what type of yarn I'll spin to help with consistency.  I'm doing a 3-ply yarn (a true 3-ply, not a chain or navajo 3-ply) and spinning six bobbins in a row before plying.  That's truly the most boring part, spinning 24 ounces of brown wool singles without the quick break of plying in between.  Having six bobbins allows me to mix & match my plies to help even out the yarn a little bit.  I label the bobbins 1-6 in the order in which I spin them, then I ply 1, 3, and 5 together and 2, 4, and 6 together.  My yarn is ending up in the heavy-worsted-to-aran-weight range, which is quite plump. Having a thicker yarn means that small inconsistencies won't be quite as noticeable. 

The color boredom I've been getting around by letting myself spin a bag of Hello Yarn fiber in between each "batch" of 6 bobbins, so right now I'm spinning my "Curiosities" superwash merino.

Hopefully getting to play with a little color will help me stay motivated.  We'll just try to ignore the fact that I've already got one dark brown sweater on the needles (more on that later) and am preparing to knit a second, larger, dark brown sweater. 

Knitting FO: Bed Socks

In perusing the last few posts, I realized that I never showed you guys the amazing socks I made for myself (and I have to break up the sewing content somehow!). When I heard Clara Parkes talk about socks at Verb (many moons ago) I had recently listened to Brenda Dayne talk about pajama socks. We were able to touch all the samples from the Knitter's Book of Socks at Clara's talk, and I knew that the Strago pattern by Jared Flood would make excellent pajama socks.

My husband and I are both of the same mind when it comes to sleeping: it should be warm enough that you can actually fall asleep, but not so hot that you don't need a blanket or two. We'd both rather be a little too cold than a little too warm. Because I tend to run a little cooler than he does, that usually means that what's comfortable for me is a bit too warm for him.  Also, my feet just get cold if they're not covered.  The Strago socks are perfect bed socks because they're loose-fitting enough that you can slip them off by gently sliding your feet around while half-asleep.



One of the main things I was worried about was choosing two colors that were too similar in value for the pattern to show up well, so I tried to get shades on opposite ends of the color wheel.  The two colors of Shelter I chose (Hayloft and Faded Quilt) match my owl pajama pants perfectly.

The only change I made to the pattern was to knit the entire sock on 4 mm (US 6) needles, because I have pretty narrow feet and was worried about the socks staying on my feet as I pad around the apartment in them.  The woolen-spun Shelter yarn happily accepted my tighter gauge, and the fabric feels like soft cushy felt underneath my feet.  We've been getting a few sunny days here and there, but we'll get lots of June gloom as well, so these will probably continue to get lots of use even during the summer months.  

More Adventures at Verb

Even though I'd successfully finished Angostura, when I saw that Ysolda was returning to the Bay Area to teach a class specifically about her book, I couldn't resist. In fact, I sorta talked two of my knitting friends into taking the class as well (although unfortunately we took it at different times).



The rest of the store was packed, because it was also the one-year anniversary of Verb's grand opening. Graceful tall white curtains separated us from most of the madness. I'd brought a bunch of different size needles and a tape measure (just in case), along with my copy of Little Red in the City. I found my seat and set up my stuff.



The class was mostly about information in the "introductory" portion of the book, and although I'd read through some of it, having a class was definitely helpful! Being able to ask for clarification about what was written in the book, hearing from the author herself about the most important parts (and having her tell you what the most important parts were!), and taking notes the whole time really solidified the information in my brain. I'm also very grateful to have the condensed-version handout that Ysolda made for us.

I'll admit to being a bit of a keener. When Ysolda asked for a volunteer, I immediately raised my hand Hermoine Granger-fashion, before I even knew what she wanted us to volunteer for. Turns out she wanted to do a measuring demonstration about how some of us ladies are a little *ahem* more 3-dimensional in the front than in the back.

I also got a good mental kick in the pants, because I did this thing that my own students do all the time which really bugs me. I haven't really done successful short-row shaping for the bust of a fitted sweater, and I wanted to know the best way to perform the wrap-and-turn. Ysolda gently pointed out that the book outlined three different methods that all effectively produce the same result, with very explicit tutorial-style instructions. Guess I should have read the book a little more carefully before asking my question! I wasn't put off at all, and now I think I need to just knit a wrap-and-turn swatch to get the hang of it. Overall, the class was very good and it was (in my opinion) dead cheap. I would have paid more for this class, and I would have really shelled out for a full-day workshop where we could measure ourselves and actually swatch. I left the class with new sweaters dancing in my head, but also with the knowledge that the holidays were right around the corner.

The only thing that could possibly have distracted me from crazily attempting to knit a sweater while simultaneously embarking on holiday gift knitting is this:



My new sewing machine.

I bought more fabric than yarn during the anniversary sale after the class was over. More adventures to come.

Where did October go?

Goodness gracious. It's been awhile since I blogged, and I am DEFINITELY properly ashamed. Hopefully, I'll be able to distract you with photos of the latest knitting FO.

Introducing Angostura:



I adore it. It's the first knitted vest I've made, and Ysolda's instructions didn't lead me wrong. I wore it to work on an evaluation day, because I wanted to look smart and professional and feel confident.



The cable at the small of my back is still utterly charming.



It's not quite cold enough to wear it with a long-sleeved shirt, but we've had a couple of nippy mornings over the past two weeks (along with some very sunny afternoons). I'm betting this will see a lot more action as the weather continues to cool down.

The best part about this vest is that it's made from swap yarn (Cascade 220 Heathers, for those who are interested). I used a little more than 3 skeins for the vest. Given the tremendous amount of swatching that I did for this project, I'm glad I had a lot of extra yarn. And how there's some left over for a hat!

All of my happiness and swatch madness aside, I still chose the pattern size a teensy bit haphazardly. I really need to sit down (or stand up) and honestly take my measurements, and it's really incredibly difficult to do that when you're excited to cast on for a new project. To combat the startitis, I've signed up for Ysolda's class at Verb next weekend. There are still a few spots left in the Saturday afternoon class, and Ysolda is signing books in between. My goals are to take good measurements, and to learn more about short rows. I partially started with Angostura because it doesn't really need short row shaping, but it's a technique I'll need to get more practice with if I'm going to be really satisfied with my sweaters in the future. Until then, I can daydream about which one to start next!

Swatch Abuse

I really thought that the first item I knit from Little Red in the City would be a Cria cardigan, but I weighed the yarn I was intending to use and now I don't think there's enough there for a Cria. So instead, I decided that the perfect back-to-school project would be a sweater vest. Because nothing says "authority in the classroom" like a knitted vest on top of a crisp white button-down shirt. I dug up some old Cascade 220 in a beautiful heathered teal-blue that reminds me of mallard ducks, and got to swatching for Angostura.



Now, I don't really enjoy swatching. Ysolda waxes poetic about swatching, and how much she loves the experimental and quick nature of swatching as a designer. Reading this paragraph has kind of convinced me that I'll never design a sweater. But I took to heart her suggestion that for a garment like a vest, sweater, or cardigan, it's worth the few hours of swatching to make sure you get the right size at the end. In my mind, it's now very simple: swatching is necessary if I want a realistic idea of my gauge. I cannot will a sweater to fit properly, nor do I have a mystical psychic understanding of how every single yarn will knit up on every single needle size. Also, just because I like the feel of US size 6's does not mean I can knit with that size for every garment.



I was even a very good knitter, and blocked my swatches. I made four (although only three are pictured here), one each on US size 7, 6, 5, and 4. The size 4 swatch was definitely too small, and the size 7 was too large. While I was fretting over whether to use size 5 or 6 needles, I decided I might as well take some photos of the swatches. And this started to happen.



Eventually, it turned ugly. I'd forgotten how much the smell of wet wool (apparently) drives the cat bonkers.



Look familiar?



He kept going for the smallest swatch, eventually giving it the rabbit/disembowel feet kicks.



So, you hear that swatches? I did everything I was supposed to do. I washed you and dried you and measured you. If you lie to me, I'll let him loose. And he has no sense of mercy.



Oh, and I ended up going with the size 5's.

More Finishing

First of all, yes, I've started something new. In fact, two somethings new. But I'm saving them (so sneaky!) so that I have something to blog about next week, which is the first week of classes. Stress levels will be high, creativity will likely be low, and I'll need something easy to blog about. In the meantime, I have one more finished item to share:



The pattern for the baby blanket squares (that I previously blogged about here) is finally ready! It's free and up on Ravelry as the Garter Outside-In Mitered Square.

The design process for the square was radically different than what I went through with either of the mitten patterns. It's been like one of those movies that is kinda long, and feels like it has more than one ending. You sit there, and find yourself thinking "Ok, bladder, I know we have business to take care of but just hold on. The credits are coming up any minute now!" And then fifteen minutes and three sweeping crescendos of music later you're feeling a little anxious and bored, and if you're me, guilty about feeling bored because it was really a good movie and you're still enjoying it, but could they just wrap it up already?



The bulk of this pattern was all written in early spring. What I really learned with this pattern is that the layout, presentation, and all those other elements that my brain tends to think of as "extra" are really quite important to the pattern. As in, they must be done before you publish the pattern. Nevertheless, I felt like the technical brainwork involved with this pattern was minimal compared to the mitten patterns, which is why it's up for free.

Finally, I want to thank all the members of Purl Jam and the One-Sock Sunday group who knit squares for the blanket, proofread the pattern, and offered constructive criticism. It turns out a knitalong with about 20 participants is a great way to test-knit a pattern, and you are the best test knitters! Also my thanks to Erica, Marissa, and TK for coming to my rescue with photos. I've definitely learned my lesson there, and will be a more consistent photographer in the future. Happy knitting, everyone!

Finish-it-up-itis

I might be having a bout with it. Seaming on the mitered square blanket is coming along apace. Four of the six strips are done, which means that I've done more than 2/3 of the seaming. My travel project, the striped Gothsocks, also got finished last night:



These socks were about as simple as possible: 72 stitches on size 1 needles (although I used 0's for the cuff, heels, and toes), 2x2 ribbed cuff, plain stockinette leg and foot, with an simple wedge toe and identical afterthought heel. The Gothsocks yarn is lovely, and I have quite a bit left over. Perhaps some matching fingerless mitts?



I also finished up the quilt from two posts ago. After I finished the basting, I waffled for a few days over whether to machine quilt or tie this one. I even bought supplies for either option. In the end, I decided to go with the ties. I used 6-strand cotton embroidery thread and put one tie at each corner junction and in the center of each block. Looking at this quilt, I love how the navy blue fabric used for the border and the blocks in the center brings a sense of coherence to the design.



I'm also very glad I decided to include a strip in the backing. Again with the coherence.



My favorite elements of this quilt are really summed up in this photo:



I was pretty careful to sew the bird blocks so that all the birds were facing up, but I missed one. When I first realized I only considered ripping the seam for about 30 seconds. This project had too much momentum. Now, I'm gad I left it the way it is. Every time I see that one bird, I laugh and think of him saying "Herp derp, I'm a bat!" In the original plan, I was going to bind the quilt with the same poppy-red fabric I used in the back, but at the last minute I decided to do the binding in the bird fabric. In the picture above you can see one of the little birds sneaking a peek at us from the binding. I think I ended up with three of these sneaky binding birds. So cute!

So that's the latest FO update for now. But I'm already plotting. The best part about finish-it-up-itis is that after it's made its way though the craft space you get to start new things!

Beginnings!

I'm excited about starting three new things right now. First, on the spinning front: Yesterday was the first day of the 2011 Tour De Fleece, and although I didn't make a strong start, I have big plans for today and the rest of the tour. Here's my progress from Day #1:



I spun as much as I could yesterday morning before we had to leave for a wedding. I'm making up my TDF goals as I go along, and I might only get to this one.



The husbeast has been hinting that he'd like a sweater. It's a little bit funny because normally he never gets cold, but I think he'll need one if we ever end up on another camping trip like the last one. Since I've got more than 5 pounds of fiber in there, that will be plenty for a large man-sized sweater. Goal #1 is to spin as much of this fleece as I can before going crazy-bored out of my mind. If I have to, I'll sacrifice a bobbin or two for my sanity and spin some Hello Yarn fiber.

The second thing I'm excited about starting is exploring sewing. The quilt, as I hinted earlier, is finished:



I hand-stitched the binding to the backside of the quilt during the drive to and from Yellowstone, and finished it up when we got home.



It was a fabulous first project, and made me realize that several guidelines that I like to tell beginning knitters hold true for beginning seamstresses as well. A simple pattern executed with beautiful materials and solid tools will be far more pleasing than a project done with cheap tools or materials that you don't love. The simple rectangles were very forgiving when my cutting was less than perfect, and although the quilting lines tend to meander a bit, I can't resist running my hands over the smooth surface and smiling at the tiny owls on the underside of the fabric.



We put the finished quilt on the bed immediately, and it hasn't come off since. I can hardly wait to make another one.

The third thing I'm super excited about starting is this:



The book arrived on Tuesday, and the yarn was formerly a very ill-fitting cardigan. I've read through about one-third of the introductory material, and I've already learned a great deal. I think the first sweater I'm going to swatch for will be Cria, the short-sleeved version.

What have you all started recently that you're excited about?

3 Years, 48 Colors, and 6,156 yards

The blanket squares are done.



This last batch, 7 squares in all, were completed during this most recent spring-and-summer bout of finish-it-up-itis. After the most recent update in June, I realized how close I was to the finish line and swore to be faithful to the project until the squares were complete. I was on the home stretch, I could see a light at the end of this unpredictably long tunnel. I mostly stuck to my guns (except a little pair of socks. But they only put me out for five days, and besides, it was my birthday).



While working on the squares this time, I started envisioning the blanket as a finished object. It's exciting and daunting to think of all the sewing, but I still feel that this is a significant turning point.



I uploaded the first set of photos in March of 2008. At the time I'd been working on the blanket on and off for about a year, and had 15 squares. I thought that would be half the finished blanket, and estimated it would take another 6 months to finish knitting (ha!). I uploaded 2 more in April and May of that year, then 4 more in March of 2009, 2 in October, 3 more in November, and 3 more in June. I've shown many blocks before, and blogged a bit about the project here in case you're feeling nostalgic.



In that post, I speculated that it might take another two years to finish the blanket. Thankfully, sewing the squares together into their blocks of 4 will still be highly portable. I will almost certainly sew all the blocks together before I decide on the final layout of the blanket, and I have my photos of each block to remind me of the placement I like best for each square.



Cara, my inspiration for this project, blocked all her squares and tucked in the ends before photographing them. As you've probably noticed from my photos, I'm nowhere near that neat. I still love reading through her journey with that blanket. I think we were both driven to this crazypants project by a love of colors and their interplay, but executed things so differently. She finished her squares in 46 days, whereas I took about 38 months to get everything off the needles.



Now, I'm more worried about the knitting of the border. By my calculations, if I'm picking up stitch-for-stitch around the edge of this massive thing, I'll have 1,728 stitches in one round of blanket. Numbers like this make me gasp for breath. I'm thinking about single crochet edges. But I really love to imagine using this blanket. It'll be huge, and machine washable because of the mercerized cotton yarn. I have fantasies about sewing a fabric lining to the back, so we can use it as a beach blanket (and to hide the wrong side).



I gave up keeping track of the squares by spreadsheet about two-thirds of the way through. I suspect that allowed me to finish sooner than otherwise. As it is, I ended up with more leftover yarn than I thought.



There's probably 5 or 6 skeins' worth of yarn there. I'm going to save it for sewing and knitting the border. The funniest thing to me about all this is that skein of white. I bought that in the first batch of yarn, and never ended up using it. I might still save it. It's bright bleached white, and I guess I think it would end up dingy-looking after some harsh use. For now, I'm giving the blanket a break for a few days. That's about how long it will take me to decide which of the five projects screaming for attention in my break to cast on (one of them, I kid you not, is another blanket). In the meantime, flickr will have to keep my humongous blanket fantasies satisfied: