Look what I stumbled upon: a bunch of calculators, including one to estimate yardage for knitting socks (plain or rib) in any gauge. Or for any plain rectangle, or for converting a knitting pattern to another gauge.

How useful is that?
(Very. The word you're looking for is "very".)

Also lots of increase/decrease placement and blahblahblah. It's not that I don't think those are useful too, I just don't think I'm going to remember to use them at the times they might be useful to me. I'm stupid that way. But, a very cool page natheless, not so?

I love the internet. It's so full of smart people, and they share their smarts around. And sometimes, as with my current efforts to learn to knit socks on circs etc, it makes me feel smart too. I love that.

Posted by Robynn at 09:43 PM | Permalink | 2 cups of tea on the table

Okay, as the astute might have gathered, that chenille wrap will not be happening.

I'm not quite sure why; last time I worked with chenille, I didn't hate it this much. But, whatever; I'm not going to force it. I'm sure I could fiddle with needle size and stitch pattern till I got it right, but really. No.

Which means, I find myself short one knitted wrap. Does anybody have one they're rather proud of and would like to see photographed? I'll borrow it for as brief a time as possible, and will return it with the brooch or shawl pin of your choice, from this rather exquisite range.

Posted by Robynn at 10:33 PM | Permalink | 5 cups of tea on the table

"So are you hooked yet?"

Oh no, I said. Socks are great and all, but I love all forms of knitting equally, I said.

Well... yes, I do, I can't say that I'd rather knit a sock than a sweater, or a lovely lacy wrap. Generally speaking. But right now I would.

Right now, in fact, I have an unhealthy desire to toss all my other planned and current projects into a messy heap somewhere while I cast on the next sock IMMEDIATELY.

Harvey doesn't understand this.

Well, Harvey, it's like this. My inaugural socks are imperfect. They're a leetle too long in the foot; the stitchery is far from flawless; they are displaying an early tendency to sag. Plus, as gorgeous as they are, it's unlikely they'll ever get shown off in public. (The fault is entirely that of my shoe wardrobe — to show off socks, I need either really long boot socks, or I guess a kind of cute lace-up or similar shoe that I just don't have, certainly not in a large enough size to fit handknit socks into.) But they feel great. I put them on, I don't want to take them off.

Also, I really enjoyed the portability of socks. They look set to fill the gap in my handbag that has just been vacated by Gecko Ridge. In fact, I took them on a road trip just last weekend, and I do think it's the first time I've really enjoyed knitting in a car; normally I find myself wanting more elbow room, and put my knitting away pretty quickly. And I see how satisfyingly mindless they are (or will be once I've internalised the construction; I'm about halfway there now); get started, go, don't overthink it or check the pattern every five minutes.

And as previously mentioned, I am so curious about the possibilities of socks. I want to try out every possible way of making them. This will result in many wonderful pairs of socks, keeping my feet warm and cosy for years — or until I wear them out, which I hear happens fairly quickly with handknits, so this could be a self-perpetuating cycle.

I better get started.*

_____
* No. No! Don't you encourage me, either. Not just yet. I need to at least try to do that chenille wrap thingy.

Posted by Robynn at 10:34 AM | Permalink | 3 cups of tea on the table

A non-knitting friend recently asked me sternly: 'So how much yarn do you have?' It took me quite a while to add it all up mentally, and I realised that at my present shameful rate of progress, I probably have enough stash to keep me knitting for at least half a dozen years. (I well remember how I used to churn out six to ten sweaters a year... alas, no more.) It struck me as a fun idea to photoblog it. I want to say that this public display of accumulation might shame me into knitting from stash, rather than Stash (where I made an only semi-immodest visit yesterday), but come on. That's hardly likely, is it?

Let's take it from the top. Where by 'top' we understand recent acquisitions, where the rationalisation is still clear in my mind. Actually no, let's take it from the WIPs; I haven't actually photographed all of these, but you've seen 'em anyway, at least in bits.

A word of warning before we begin. Even by my standards, the picture quality is horrendous. Feel free to tut tut over my poor photographic technique, but before you ask 'darling, what were you thinking ?', please give the yarn the benefit of the doubt. Trust me, it's all a lot prettier than it looks.

Okay. So.

The works in progress:

1. Gecko Ridge. 30 blocks done (actually 33; I stopped counting and overshot a bit). Between this photo session last night and lunchtime today, I managed to sew up five strips, and sort-of attach each strip to the next one - just enough to make sure they don't get out of order. Further thoughts on the whole project will follow with the traditional fork photo.

Yarn: Noro Kureyon, one ball per block. The scraps (it's quite remarkable how widely the yardage varied between balls; some blocks barely got finished with their one ball, some had masses left over) will get added to those 3 lost blocks to make a cat blanket. Not like they need it, but Jemima in particular has been so very keen on Gecko for the duration...

2. Denim jacket. No pics. Slow progress. Having started this one in a mad fit of wossname, I immediately got distracted by socks and this is now in danger of turning into my Wednesday Wallflower.
Yarn: Rowan Denim, 1kg. I'm hoping that'll be far too much but I hate to run out. God knows what I'll do with the leftovers.

3. Chenille wrap, just started. This one's a not very well-conceived rush job (I need it for product styling purposes, have I mentioned?) and frankly I'm not convinced it's going to make it, but we'll see.
Yarn: an eBay special - 500g cone of purple DK-weight chenille. Beautiful colour. If the wrap works out I'll probably use it all up.

Okay, so now you know what I am doing, let's turn to what I *plan* to do. Remember, pretty much everything in my stash had a clear purpose at the time of acquisition, so I'll be identifying these according to what they are in my head. Let us proceed.

The latest infatuations:

The ladder-stitch summer party top.

This will be a reworking of a top I already have, which gets people very excited every time I bring it out, but the design just isn't *quite* there.
Yarn: Louisa Harding Sari Ribbon, 6 hanks. Vintage: yesterday.

The socks.

Bottom row, left to right: cosy magic-loop, toe-up socks (Wollmeise Granatapfel, worsted weight); knee-high somethings (Wollmeise Farn); regular size somethings (Posh Lucia).
Middle row and first ball on top: Cinder's Secret Stockings (Piece of Beauty).
Rest of top row: Lorna's Laces Shepherd Socks. Colour... Black Watch? Not sure.
Vintage of all these: within the last two months. (Shepherds, yesterday.)
I'm keen to compare and contrast lots of different sock yarns, as well as sock construction techniques. So far - having made precisely one pair - I am most attracted to the toe-up, short-row heel, 2 socks on one circ idea; and Lucia seems by far the softest. I think the Shepherds are least impressive to the touch, but then again they may wear the best.

The cowl-neck, extra-long aran.

Yarn: Rooster Almerino (1kg of it). Vintage: pretty recent. There was a bargain offer for the London SnB mailing list. I'm weak. And I want to be warm this winter.

The stripey top:

Yarn: 500g of Filatura di Crosa in every colour I could grab. Vintage: March 2007 (Venice).

The Clapotis.

Yarn: Lorna's Laces Lion & Lamp, in Watercolor. Vintage: around October last year.
The problem: I wound one of the balls up long before the other three, for reasons that passeth understanding. On doing the rest last night, I noticed that - although all four of these balls have been stored in the same dark chest all this time - the three that were in skeins seem to have faded dramatically compared to the other one. It's a scientific marvel! And really pisses me off. I don't want a mini-Clap. And I don't want to have to go buy more yarn. *pouts*

The shawl-collar chunky lace jacket (shut up. It'll totally work):

Yarn: alpaca/mohair from Texere, at an exceptionally good price. Vintage: Ally Pally 2006.

The fair isle cardi, plus something else, maybe a cute cabled ribby pullover, I haven't quite got the details yet:

Yarn: Lang Silk Dream (silk/merino blend, great value). Vintage: Ally Pally 2006.

The, um, I keep changing my mind on this but there'll be two of them and they'll be really pretty and stuff, you know, light summer jacket sort of things:

Yarn: There's actually two batches in here, around 600g of each in assorted colours. One is cotton boucle, the other is a really stunning bamboo (you can only see a bit of that here). Both are from a wonderful little shop in Cape Town that gets its stuff custom dyed. Vintage: November 2005.

The... er... I think they'll be two jackety things, probably, I have some ideas and even suitable patterns lying around somewhere:

Yarn: Rowan Summer Tweed, 500g each of two colours. Probably not *actually* enough for a jacket each, then. Hm. Vintage: some time in 2005. A John Lewis sale.

The long-line summer cardi of some sort, probably in a kind of broken rib, and dear lord there's a lot of it so maybe it'll end up a kind of twinset:

Yarn: Rowan Linen Drape, now discontinued. 21 balls. Vintage: er... January 2004? Maybe? I know it was a John Lewis January sale.

That concludes the supposedly planned project line-up, and brings us to the rather sad and lonely corner where hide the unloved, the widows and orphans and black sheep of the stash family.

The novelty yarns.

These were all gifts from very well-meaning but clueless non-knitting friends. But I love that they tried. One or two of these are even very pretty, but I have no idea what to do with a single ball of Jaeger Firefly. (Nor much desire to buy it a mate.) Most of these are going to be disposed of pretty shortly.

The frog pond.

One of these was attempting to be a very cute multidirectional jacket in Rowan Cotton Glace. I was running hopelessly short of yarn and haven't quite found the inspiration to find a Plan B. The other was the terribly ill-starred Red Hot Mama that I was working on around the start of this blog. (Which is as much indication as you need of how awful these photos are... that yarn (Jaeger Siena) is red hot, seriously. Not muddy brick. No. It glows.) It went through two entirely separate incarnations, both doomed. I'm a little scared of trying anything else with it now. And besides... I think we've established I'm not exactly short of distractions.
Vintage: both 2005. The purple cotton, January; the red, more like September.

The leftovers.

I had a second photo, of a box full of scraps, but it seems to have gotten corrupted. Never mind. It looked quite a lot like a messier version of this.

No, I don't know why I'm keeping a box full of old swatches either.

And the completely random.

This pile is mostly a combination of gifts, impulse buys, odd balls bought as samples or parts of projects that for whatever reason never even made it to complete yarn acquisition phase. But for some of these, too, I have actual plans. On the right there - singularly failing to show off their wonderfulness - are wound skeins of Seasilk and Artyarns Silk Rhapsody; these are probably going to be my initiation into the mysteries of the Moebius. That sequinned Tilli Thomas is a scarf gift in waiting. Other than that... yeah. It's anybody's guess where these'll end up.
Vintage: the oldest (those balls of chenille) are from January 1998. My first trip to London, where I found John Lewis and almost expired from excitement. The most recent (two balls of Cathay) was just a few weeks ago; they were to be the accent colour on a teal cardigan. Turns out everyone and their aunty seem to be sold out of all the good colours of Cathay, so I'm left with just the accent.

So what do you think? Do I have a stash problem? Or is this really very modest and reasonable and it's nobody's business but mine if I hover over the Posh Yarn sale tonight?

Posted by Robynn at 02:34 PM | Permalink | 8 cups of tea on the table

I love blog memes. I love the quirky little details they tend to throw up, and I love the way they provide easy blog content when you're lacking inspiration. Plus, I like talking about myself. (I'm an egocentric Aries.) So thanks, G! I'm glad to be tagged.

My 8 things aren't really random. They're largely inspired by others who have done this meme, or by memes themselves. Still, they're otherwise unconnected and irrelevant, so...

1. I love astrology. And numerology, and tarot, and feng shui. I cannot rationally defend them, but I have a deep attraction to belief systems that are inherently so aesthetic. (I don't mean pretty pictures so much as the idea that we can interpret life through mythic symbols and patterns.) So: I'm an Aries, with Cancer rising and moon in Aquarius. How about you?

2. Unlike you, G, I have an insanely sweet tooth. And a shocking inability to restrain myself. I adore chocolate, cake, pastries... not that interested in non-chocolate sweets (except for jelly beans and fruit all sorts) but I won't turn them down. I also love bread and pasta and all things wheaty; and the many glorious incarnations of cheese. Also wine, and cocktails. Not so much beer. Wouldn't it be nice if I had, say, an undying fondness for broccoli and steamed fish? But no. I gravitate towards the calories.

3. I recently read an interview with Vanessa Redgrave in which she said casually, "Everybody can relate to [this play] because we've all experienced loss." Except me. I have never lost anyone, and never had my heart broken. Yes, I do know how lucky I am (although apparently stunted emotionally because I have missed out on these universal human experiences).

4. I am persnickety by nature. Especially when it comes to language. I'm not quite of the Lynn Truss zero-tolerance school, but I do tend to shout at poor, innocent shop signs. Back at school, I remember borrowing notes from a friend, and returning them to her with pencilled in spelling corrections. Bizarrely, she's still my friend.

5. As a knitter, I'm strangely conservative. I have fallen into certain habits and ideas about what I like, and it's hard to break out of that. For instance, for about 10 years I didn't buy any wool. Not a single ball. I'm not sure what all I did buy, but I think it was mostly cotton. Now I'm dabbling my toe in the wool sock pond, and guess what? It's not itchy! Fancy that.

6. In high school, I wanted to be a fashion designer or buyer (globe-trotting shopping! Brilliant!), and in fact I was *thees close* to studying design. (Long story as to why that didn't happen.) Took me years to realise that while I do love clothes, I don't feel quite so warmly towards Fashion. Two other small flaws in my plan: I can't draw; and I hate, hate, hate sewing.
As it turns out, I could circumvent both of those problems and still achieve my dream (sort of) by launching a fashion store in Second Life. Wouldn't that be fun? Like playing paper dolls! I love that I live in a world where that sort of thing is possible. (And, for that matter, where I get to indulge my desire to make pretty clothes, and shop for pretty things, by knitting and selling gorgeous knitting paraphernalia. Result!)

7. I have two degrees (one in arts, one in business) and still feel hopelessly undereducated. I daydream a lot about further study; but what I really want is to take another undergraduate arts/humanities degree, since I couldn't possibly cover everything I was interested in the first time round. Hm, not so very practical, that.

8. I was "brought up gay", as a friend once said (yes, my father actually is gay), and love, love, love oldfashioned musicals. But not Lloyd-Webber, and please don't talk to me about anything Disney or jukebox-derived — I'm all about Rodgers & Hammerstein, Lerner & Loewe, Cole Porter. The King and I, South Pacific, Oklahoma — utterly fabulous, the lot of them. (By the way, if you share my unfortunate tastes, The Drowsy Chaperone is a wonderful pastiche and homage to the genre.)

So, that's my 8. I'm not going to tag anyone; but if you're reading this, and you'd like to play along, please do! Put a note in the comments so we can find your answers. Or for the blogless, put your answers in the comments. That works too.

Posted by Robynn at 04:52 PM | Permalink | 4 cups of tea on the table

So I've spent the past couple of days tucked up under the duvet feeling very sorry for myself. (It happens. You push your body too hard, you suffer for it, and I have been burning the candle at both ends and in the middle, for good measure.) But to be honest... maybe not all that sorry for myself. After all, I get to do large amounts of nothing, except maybe a little bit of knitting. And in very good timing, the new Interweave Knits arrived yesterday, and Interweave Crochet today. Perfect.

This summer Knits is stunning. Useful articles (I'm very keen to try the toe-up sock thing) and quite a few things that I could imagine knitting almost exactly as printed — unusual for me. Love Norah Gaughan's Origami cardi; love those spiral boot socks; but most of all I love this lace top. (Sorry for the titchy pic.)

As it happens, the night before this arrived, I was imagining something very, very similar. (Well, something initially more elaborate, but it got pared down.) So this one's definitely going on the list. Although the neckline will have to change. (High necks and large bosoms? Not such great friends.)

The Crochet mag, though... not so very much. I'm almost always disappointed in crochet magazines. I pretty much grew up seeing knitting and crochet as two aspects of the same craft — close siblings, at any rate. I never understood the great disdain heaped on crochet. But I am starting to. The potential is absolutely there, but the manifestation... well, I just think crochet's time hasn't quite come yet, in the way knitting's has. In the past six or seven years, knitting has grown up; there has been such a renaissance that even fairly amateur knitters have pretty sophisticated ideas about what can be achieved, and this is reflected in even the less professional zines and so on. But crochet has lagged behind, and while I see individual things that are just wonderful, I don't think I've ever yet seen an issue of a magazine, or a book, or any collection of crochet designs that really gets past the obvious. For all the talk about "crochet doesn't have to be stiff and lumpy" (absolutely true), it usually is. For all the claims about crochet's flexibility and how well it lends itself to creative, form-fitting shapes and unexpected directions (again, 100% true), I always seem to see the same boxy silhouettes. And the same unimaginative shell-stitch-type patterns.

*sigh*

But, look how far knitting has come, and how quickly. Admittedly there's always been Vogue Knitting (when exactly did that lose its place at the forefront, I wonder? Don't get me wrong, I still love it; but it is clearly no longer ahead of the trend), but the real development has been taking place elsewhere. I think even Knitty, fabulous Knitty, has improved by leaps and bounds over the past couple of years. When I first saw it, I loved the idea; not so much the actual patterns. Obviously that has changed. So one hopes the same will happen for crochet.

Ever the optimist, me.

PS. I have a sock.
Pictures soon.

Posted by Robynn at 03:33 PM | Permalink | 5 cups of tea on the table

As previously hinted, Storytellers rides again.

Sort of.

We've just finished judging the final competition (which I've nicknamed "open mic"), so those winners will shortly be published in the usual place; the honourable mentions, however, will be posted on the new Storytellers blog. Sort of an ice-breaker.

Posted by Robynn at 07:01 PM | Permalink

Did I mention my little encounter with the Wollmeise?

Do not imagine you can see the glowing gorgeousness of that greeny one. You can't. You just can't.

You also can't smell them. They smell... fruity. Pomegranatey, in fact. Which is interesting, because the red one is called Granatapfel (pomegranate). Now how does she do that?

And you can't feel them. You can't feel the soft, bouncy huggishness of that merino.

But most of all, you can't share in my delight at this little woolly collage I also received. (A sample set. What a wonderful idea.)

I am going to have so much fun with these.

My tech problems, in case you were wondering, are not solved. These pics are brought to you by the photographic kindness of dear Armin, who was on camera duty yesterday because we just happen to have some rather fabulous new products.

Which just so happen to be 10% off for spring.

Posted by Robynn at 01:58 PM | Permalink | 9 cups of tea on the table

["How Scheherazade was saved by her knitting", by Jessica Mayes.

Once again, technical issues are interefering with pictures... *sigh*]

“Enough!” said the king as he strode toward Shahrazad. “The people are in suspense as to how much longer you shall live. The advisors tell me to either let you live and be my wife until I die, or to command you to finish your story so I can kill you. But I,” he said as he leaned toward Shahrazad until he was almost touching her; “have a better plan. As you seem to enjoy knitting, judging by all the hours you spend with needles and string, I propose this plan: I will give you one week. During this time you shall live by yourself, seeing no one else. You will be given any supplies you wish; and at the end of that week, you shall present a garment you shall either wear to your crowning as queen or your death. I shall judge if you garment is worthy of your life. After the cunning you displayed in prolonging your life, I expect no less ingenuity in this. The week starts now. Your servant shall bring whatever supplies you wish.” The king turned and left the room, slamming the ornate wooden door behind him with an echoing bang.

One week later

Shahrazad stood before the doors leading to the King’s court. She was not nervous at all, but stood calmly with her head up. The heavy doors slowly creaked open. “You may enter!” The King’s loud voice commanded. Slowly and coolly Shahrazad drifted down the floor to stand before the King. She bowed. “What is this garment?” The King sounded only vaguely interested.

“This O King,” Shahrazad replied, “is a mobius shawl. The garment has only one half twist, and one surface. It represents the way my stories are all part of one story, the one I began when I first arrived here. The design in the middle of the shawl is encased by five knit rows on either side. This represents the way my tales are stories-within-a-story. And finally, O King, the design in the middle of trees, shows the way I started with one story that branched out into many stories, just as a tree extends out with roots and branches that are still connected to the trunk.” Shahrazad bowed low to await the King’s decision.

“I was prepared to kill you upon your entrance to this court and be done with the matter, but the curiosity that kept me waiting for the end of your story made me wait for the completion of this task. I am glad I waited. Here is my decision: Shahrazad shall live.” Shahrazad knelt to the ground, still wearing her shawl, and was crowned queen. “No more shall I kill. A wife like this,” said the King, “is surely enough.”

Posted by Robynn at 05:37 PM | Permalink