Knitting Spaces

Everyone has their nook, their favorite workspace. In my dreams my workspace is a comfy armchair in an open, clean room where I can knit whenever I want. Maybe with a wall of color coded yarn behind me, and a cup of cocoa or tea nearby. In reality, my knitting space is almost always my dining area, after work. The drink nearby is more often a glass of wine than tea (no complaints there). It's not an open space because we rent a pretty tiny house, but I can see the oak forest through the window. Sure, the screen is pretty grimy but the orangey-yellow leaves are still pretty. I can't seem to knit without something else going on in the background, so my laptop is almost always open and playing a movie or TV show. Having a device play a movie, and actually watching a movie are two different things. I'm surprised I haven't worn out my Harry Potter and Grimm Season 1 DVDs because my laptop has run through those discs way more than I've actually watched them. Fact: Hermione is awesome and Monroe has some great sweaters.

My knitting tree

But, every once in a while, when it's not too cold or too hot or too damp, I get to knit outside! No background movie needed. When I have the chance, my yard is my favorite knitting spot. Especially during fall.  I live on a small, woody mountain so there's always something to explore when I look up from my knitting. There's a (half-dead) tree in my yard perfect for leaning up against, and an especially soft, grassy patch perfect for sitting. You can sit and knit for hours. It's worth getting freaked out once in a while because an odd bug mistook you for the tree and started crawling around on you. You look up and there's trees in every direction, a small wood pile here, the garden plot there (or what's left of it), and the green mountain to your right. It's pretty sweet.

My mountain! Yes, it's mine. Don't litter on it. 

So, inconclusion: yes, I'm still renting, no I don't own a TV, yes I know too much about Harry Potter, and no I would never color code anything. I'm not that organized. Welcome to the life of a 20-something. But so far I've been very lucky. Where's your favorite place to knit?

Wood pile, and lovely maple(?)

The good, the bad, and the "meh," part 2

Part 1 of this series was about a sweater I made that didn't turn out as planned. But in this post, I'm focusing on a piece of knitwear that I'm very happy with, wear often, and am even a little proud of. My last post was about having a pity party and complaining when things don't work. This one I think is more fun: it's a chance to brag about something you created and love.

I like to think I take time making decisions. But once in a while I make up my mind to do something with very little forethought and no idea of what I'm getting into. Sometimes it's really big decisions, like "hey, I think I'll go to grad school." Other times it's more forgiving decisions, like "hey, I'm going to knit this lace top," even though I had never knit lace, read a pattern chart, or made anything more complicated than pair of socks. Those socks don't fit well either, FYI. So when I came across Quince & Co.'s "Helene," I decided I had enough of messing around, I was making this. I chose to blithely ignore the fact that this top was way beyond my skill level.

In part 1 of this post, I started out pretty full of myself. But in making this piece I was a little intimidated. I've never been good at arts/crafts. As a kid, my macaroni art was always sub-par, and I still can't color in the lines. I didn't think I had any more potential as a knitter than I do at turning pasta into pictures. I was so new to knitting I didn't even know how to wind a skein of yarn into a ball. Actually I didn't know what a skien was, and I was confused as to why my yarn arrived in this odd, braided shape. So when I found the ends, I turned the first skein into a fantastical knot that took days to undo. I'm not exaggerating: days. Then I Googled what a "skein" was. What a great start! Once I actually got knitting, I didn't realize the pre-blocked shirt would be so tiny. I was terrified I had made some mistake and would end up with a baby-sized shirt! There was much confusion, many YouTube tutorials, and profuse swearing. But two months later, out of the haze of nail-biting and worrying, my Helene emerged. And it was really cute! It fit me well! I, who didn't know the difference between a skein and a ball of yarn, transformed linen yarn into a lacy, fashionable shirt! It was like magic, except super slow!

"You jealous of my shirt bro?"

I love my Helene because it helped me realize why I love knitting. And even though I had no idea what I was doing, I was patient and learned and it worked out! It taught me a lot about drape, fit, and shaping. It's with Helene that I learned I can make something exactly for my body. Plus there are so many ways to dress this top! Maybe you didn't want to display your least loved projects, but what about your favorites? Share something you've made that you absolutely love! Tell me why you're proud of it. After all, you made it, you love it, and it's probably awesome, so don't be modest.

The good, the bad, and the "meh," part 1

You see a sweater pattern. You picture how it will look after you knit it up with your skillful hands. You haven't messed up a pattern yet, and you're obviously a natural. It's going to be sweet! Sure, you spot a part or two that may trip you up, but no biggie because you're awesome. And then you start, and you remember that your imagination and reality don't always mesh. This is the story of the "meh" project, in this case, the boyfriend sweater. If you have a good boyfriend sweater story, this is a good place to share it!

After having successfully made myself a couple of pullovers (as in 2) my boyfriend started looking wistfully at my warm merino wool sweater. I didn't have anything I was itching to make, and he didn't have any good sweaters, so why not make him one? I started in early March, thinking I can get it done in about a month for him to wear on the chillier spring days. I didn't finish the damn thing till July.

There were so many problems! My gauge was way off, my measurements were off, the yarn didn't hold shape, I hated the pattern. I started and ripped it out again three times. I was slogging through a bulky wool sweater in midsummer. I seriously wanted to burn my knitting, anything so I would never have to see it again. Yet another problem was I had never made anything for a body that is not my own.  Here's an interesting tidbit of information: men's bodies, in general, do not have waists like women's bodies do. They are also larger...like big rectangular boxes. Don't get me wrong, I like men's bodies.  They can be quite nice. And my boyfriend is not a large man. But his body requires more yarn than mine does, thus slowing me down when I'm already dreaming of burning his unfinished sweater.

I went from being optimistic about knitting my wonderful boyfriend a wonderful sweater, to feeling sorry he would be stuck with it, because I wasn't stopping this far in. Oh no, I was committed. In the end my feelings about my first boyfriend sweater settled on "meh," and that's the closest thing to a positive feeling I've had about it. It ended up saggy and oversized. But on the plus side I learned a lot from this particular project. I learned how to do saddle shoulders and a shawl collar. I learned I didn't pick the best way to make the pockets. I learned I have a lot to learn, and I'm still pretty new to knitting. I learned to slow down and think through parts of a pattern I don't understand.

I hope you've never made something you're unhappy with.  But if you have, this is the place to rant about it. Post an image link to your not-so-loved project and commiserate! Why didn't it turn out as you imagined? Did you learn anything new from your "meh" project? What would you have done differently? I would have knit my boyfriend a basic raglan pullover instead of a more complicated cardigan, but hindsight is 20/20.  The good news out of all of this is he actually likes his sweater. I'm still not convinced he has a good sweater.