The Cat Hates My Knitting

Famous last words

The nice folks at Spinning Daily wanted to hear about people's first spinning experiences. I started to post a comment and realized I was writing a book. So, I thought I'd put it here.

I remember my first spinning experience very clearly. The Teenager was 7 years old. There were some lovely women at my local Canada Day celebrations, demonstrating handspinning -- both wheel and spindle. I hadn't been paying much attention, but my daughter? She was transfixed by the spindle. The woman holding it, invited her over to give it a try.

Well. That 7 year old kid suddenly had to have her own spindle. Immediately. It took her two days to earn the $5 needed to procure the starter spindle and some fibre. When we went to her house to get the set, the lady looked at my daughter, looked at me, and pronounced, "You're going to be a spinner!" My response was something like, "Nah, I knit. That's enough for me." She suggested to me that it would be a good idea if there was an adult available, to help the child out of any sticky situations she might find herself in. I thought that was a really smart idea, but it didn't necessarily make me a spinner.

Little did I know...

The lady (her name is Beth) patiently showed me how to apply clockwise spin into a bit of pencil roving. I tried it, myself, and did a pretty good job, but I still wasn't convinced. We took the starter set home, and my kid commenced to spin up every millimetre of the pencil roving we had.

Days later, we were back at Beth's house, looking for more fluff to spin into yarn. That was the day that Beth showed me a natural oatmeal coloured batt and a Turkish spindle. She showed me how to attenuate the batt into something I could spin, and then, showed me how to spin it into yarn. I'm not sure if it was the colour, or the smell, or, even the texture of the fibre between my fingers, but suddenly, I was getting it. I found the slow spin of the bottom whorl spindle somehow hypnotic and relaxing. We took home some more pencil roving for the kid, and two more batts of that lovely oatmeal coloured fluff.

I turned it into beautiful, lumpy, heavy yarn in about 6 hours over the next two days.
The kid and I went back and forth from our house to Beth's several times that first month (no small feat -- she lives in another town), learning a little more every time we visited. Pretty soon the intense interest of the 7 year old waned, but, there I was, wondering what other wonderful bits of fluff Beth had over there. I explored every natural colour of wool that I could get my hands on.

On one of my visits, Beth suggested I enter my first skein into the local fair. I thought she was nuts. She patiently explained that we all have to be beginners some time. It was strictly for fun. So I agreed to put my heavy, lumpy, beginner yarn into the ring with yarns from spinners who had been at it for decades.

I came in Third. (And, yes. There were more than three skeins in that class.)

That was the final motivation for me. I now wanted to try out different breeds of sheep, mohair, alpaca -- anything that I could make hold together on a spindle.

Oh. And those lovely ladies at the Canada Day Celebration?

Yup. Three of my best friends. Debbie, Beth (Mmhmm, that Beth)  and Sue.

I came, I shopped, I frolicked

I recently went to the 14th Annual Knitter's Frolic, at the Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre in Toronto. It's an outing I look forward to, every year. The folks from the Downtown Knit Collective do know how to throw a party, I tell you.

And the party favours are pretty special, too

I came home with:

A bottle of Soak, in the flora scent 

The book, "Wrapped in Lace", by Margaret Stove 

A beautiful skein of Diamond Luxury Collection Pure Silk Lace 

Some undyed silk hankies, which I had to rescue from the opinionated one -- seems she was intent on needle felting them...

And some beautiful merino/silk sliver in a colourway called "Cinnamon" -- yummy
What'd you bring home?

Frolicking Among the Yarn

Saturday morning, I packed up my family, retrieved the redoubtable Sue, and headed into Toronto for the DKC Knitter's Frolic, 2011 edition.

After a lovely drive, I kissed the Man o' My Dreams goodbye, said, "Seeya," to the Teenager, and headed into the maelstrom that is the Frolic. (Don't feel bad for them, they were heading to the World's Biggest Bookstore for the day.)

This year, I had only one goal. Acquire Margaret Stove's book, "Wrapped in Lace," which I found at the Yarn Source, for a wonderful discount -- they were having a retirement sale. A lot of knitters in Southeastern Ontario are going to miss Lise and her husband, I think. I certainly will. They have been a part of the knitting landscape for a long, long time. Best wishes to you both.

There was so much to see, and it was good to see other friends there, too. (I sent first-timers, Shawna, Christina and Nancy off without sufficient escort to the Frolic. It turned out okay -- they didn't underindulge -- and they want to go back next year.)

What did I see?

Well.

I saw spindles

I saw yarn

lots of yarn

Did I mention yarn?

I saw beautiful colours

I got a little culture, too. The Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre is the huge and beautiful hall where the Frolic has been held for as long as I've been going.

There's so much more that I completely forgot to take pictures of. The Rock Island Shawl. The Louet spinning wheels. The fibre. The shawl pins. The knitting tools. So. Much. Stuff.

What did I bring home? I'll show you, later.

So. Wanna come next year?

Vintage Kitty

Tina has a really cute little baby bonnet, knitted of white angora. It's got little kitty ears and it's from a vintage pattern, that's long out of print. I've always been intrigued by that hat, but I haven't been able to explore the knitting, because Tina hasn't been able to get the yarn in. About a month ago, on one of her yarn foraging adventures, she found some more. Only this time, there was a choice of black, green or fuchsia. Of course I grabbed some. Of each. And when I got it home, I found this in my pattern stash:

Once I had the pattern, it took me about five minutes to cast on.

and about 2 days later, I had a little hat of unspeakable adorability!

 
Oh! The squeee-ness of it all!

 
Anyone got a baby I can borrow?

 

 

The Perfect Bookcase - Part the Second

Having purchased the perfect bookcase, I spent the next two weeks waiting for the perfect time to assemble it. Truth be told, I was hoping that the elves would come in the middle of the night and do it for me. I would provide them with hand-knitted hats and sweaters made of finest silk and alpaca, as payment.

Since my world continued to be elfless and my patience was wearing thin, I did the only thing left to me.

I opened the box.

Upside down.

Hmm.

That's better.

According to the pictograms, one must first collect two naked, pudgy, bald gentlemen. In shoes.  Give one of them a hammer and the other gets a pencil. Then one may begin.

Now, I've done the IKEA two step once or twice in my life and I know that the one thing required for success is to REMAIN CALM. Uhh, no, wait. Stay organized. Yeah, that's it. Stay organized. To that end, I gathered up the required tools and enlisted the aid of some kitchen equipment:

Muffin tins?!

When there are 18 small fastening devices involved, the only way to stay sane and get the silly thing built, is to organize said panoply of small bits. Muffin tins serve well nigh perfectly.

See? Organized.

I followed instructions. I found the required parts. I tapped fasteners in the appropriate places

Her Most Serene Highness inspected teh troops. And teh equipmints.

And did NOT approve.

 I hammered and screwdrivered (phillips AND flat, thankyouverymuch)

I did battle with drawer assemblies, and I was victorious!

Very soon, the only thing left, was to fill it.

Perfect.

The Perfect Bookcase

You might remember this:

My sunroom studio -- almost perfect. The chairs are comfy, the table is sturdy, the windowsills are handy for the putting down of coffee mugs and glasses of lemonade.

But something was missing.

Back in the fall, when I made this space, I had intended to get a bookshelf. I have a fair few knitting books, and tools that I need to have close to hand when I'm up to my elbows in yarn. I was on a mission and on a budget. I tried, for weeks, to scare one up for free. No luck. Then I went to the thrift stores. There were a couple of beautiful bookcases, but they weren't for sale. I started contemplating where I might find a book case close to home. There was one at Canadian Tire, but the budget whinged. Loudly and immediately. We tried Home Depot. But that one was too-o-o big. Definitely Not a Good Thing.

I waited, patiently. It began to feel like I would always be tripping over books in my bedroom. And like I would always have to go somewhere else to retrieve the info I needed, five minutes after sitting down to knit. It was getting frustrating.

A couple of weeks ago, as I was finishing up a class at the yarn shop, I got a phone call from the Man o' my Dreams. "Any plans for the rest of the day?" he asked.

"Nope," said I, "Whatcha got in mind?"

"Let's go to IKEA."

When one gets to be a certain age (40-something), with certain life responsibilities (kids, mortgage, gassy cats), IKEA is as close to a theme park as one is  likely to get. So, off we headed to the Big City, for a visit to the Theme Park for Furniture.

After weaving our way through herds of slow-moving furniture shoppers (and their fleet-footed, agile offspring), we found the book case display floor.

There was the venerable Billy

There was Expedit

There was Expedit, again

And then!

Smadal

A bookcase I could live with, under budget! And, at 5 feet 6 inches, relatively easy to get home, too. (You do not want to be taking a seven foot bookcase home in a Corolla. Trust me.)

Now, for the fun part.

Anybody got a screwdriver?

Sharesies

My friend, Sue, has been putting up a lot of knitting info, lately. Mostly, so that she will be able to find it when she wants to use it. Smart girl, she.

In the spirit of sharing really interesting knitting info, I give you, possibly the most extensive collection of knitting, sewing, lacemaking, crochet patterns I have ever found:  The Antique Pattern Library

I'm really fond of antique and vintage patterns (even when I can't decipher them), and this is a collection that will take a good long time to wander through. It's not all about knitting, but if it's needlecraft, it's in there. The ideas in there, that are just waiting to become brilliant art, are myriad.

So, my friends, upgrade your Adobe Reader, and grab a cup of tea and spend an afternoon. Or two. Or six. This is gonna take a while...

Taking the Chill Off

She's done it again.

Milady found the floor too chilly

and no sooner did my current knitting project, the Clever Cat Knits Lace Kimono Jacket, attain a status of more than 50% completed:

...then she decided that she knew how to keep warm in the winter:

Sigh.

Well. When it's gray and snowy outside, somewhat like this:

and one can determine temperature by the amount of frost on the windows...

From 'somewhat nippy', all the way to...

'Whoa, Nelly! Pull out the extra sweaters. And grab a touque. And mittens. And maybe some blankets, too.',

it's always good to have something warm and beautiful to work on:

This is the beginning of a scarf, based on part of a lace chart from the Second Book of Lace Knitting, by Marianne Kinzel, I'm using Estelle Super Alpaca Lace and 3mm KnitPicks circulars (40cm long).

 Oh, yes. and the Kimono. As soon as I can extract it from Herself's pointy clutches.

Keep warm, my friends. Keep warm.

Queen of Thrift

The Teenager and I went for a walk, Downtown, on Friday. A more perfectly warm, breezy afternoon is not to be found anywhere. And truly a blessing at the end of September. We were out to scout the local thrift stores (there are three within a fifteen minute walk  from home), and to indulge in lunch out. Our most interesting stop was the local Salvation Army Thrift Store. My Teenager always finds something good in there. Me? It's kind of hit-or-miss.

Well. Friday, it was definitely a hit.

  See, I always go to these places, looking for yarn, because I always hear about how someone scored fifteen thousand yards of pure silk laceweight, for $1.25. I never find anything, except white or pink or mint green acrylic. (It bothers me to think how many dinosaurs died so that I could knit with imitation wool.) So I don't look for yarn much, anymore. But, this time? This time, I rounded a corner in the store and saw a little filing cabinet, with a magic marker label on it, that read, "Knitting and Sewing Patterns". Now I have been in this corner of the shop a hundred times, I'm certain. And I can tell you, I have NEVER seen this filing cabinet. And, yet, there it sat. Like it had been hiding behind the crock pots and coffee makers since before Noah scolded the elephant for sitting on the tea kettle.

Well. What would you do? I looked in the drawers.

At first, there was a sea of dubious 80's era sweater patterns. Definitely not to my taste. But, then. Hiding behind the image of a sultry, curly-haired siren wearing a deep teal, broad shouldered, short waisted, bulky weight, number, I spied something that whispered, "Vintage!" After a good fifteen minute rummage, I came up with these seven pattern books. Enough socks, sweaters, mittens and accessories to keep anyone knitting for months. Maybe, even years.

Joy!

The Teenager is very good-natured about my knitting habit. She just grinned and shook her head, when I showed her what I found. She, in turn, showed me the beautiful Chinese brocade top she found for $2 over in the ladies' wear department. Total expenditure? $3.75. Canadian. 25¢ each for hard to find knitting books, ranging in age from 50 to 70 years. We left, feeling like truly intrepid bargain-hunters.

Our next stop was lunch, at one of the Teenager's favourite restaurants. The Olympia. This is one of those old-fashioned, family owned establishments that is short on decor, and long on good, plain food and lots of it.

For the record? She finished that.