It's one of those things you didn't know you needed until you saw it: a Flying Spaghetti Monster pattern. Just in time for Chrifsmas, too.
(If you want to know more about being touched by His Noodly Appendage, this should explain it.)
Not at all knitting related, but quite marvellous none the less:
Please go and give a warm welcome to Extemporanea, over at Purl-handled revolver. Extemp - previously (and still) of Freckles & doubt - is a ferociously smart and funny woman, whose sudden decision to pick up the needles has made me quite indecently happy. The decision to start a knitting blog is even better. So, go say hi, and while you're at it, remind her to sign up for Ravelry.
A little musical diversion for you. Enjoy!
I was a Girl Guide for about five minutes. I never actually collected any badges, though I think I was ready to go for the hairdressing one, based on the fact that I cut my own fringe. (Rather shorter than I meant to.) Now, however, is the time to make good on that missed opportunity.
Race you to level 3 Macgyver?
O'course the good thing about these cool, grey, drizzly days is that my cats get ever so affectionate. And who am I to complain about fluffy company... everywhere I go... every single step... draped over my wrists as I type... well, I admit, it's not very conducive to productivity. But damn, they cute.
Talking of cute: How adorable is this dancing robot? Lil guy's got rhythm.
Ahem. Back to the topic (such as it is). Yes, so, it's distinctly autumnal all of a sardine. And my pleasure in this fact makes me realise: I have finally adjusted to the English climate. (Hey, only five years... that's not bad, right?) After bitching and whining every single summer that it's just not enough, it's not reliable enough, it's not nearly long enough... well, this summer was about the most unreliable and certainly short-lived that I've yet experienced, and you know? The lovely, sunny days we had recently just confused me. I didn't quite know how to dress or what to do. Now it's all damp and miserable again, I feel strangely relieved. Boots! Scarves! I can handle this.
And of course knitting. I am thinking about warm woolly stitches almost every minute of the day... so about 10 minutes more than usual, then. Really, I'm obsessed. And newly driven to actually Get Stuff Done. Which means being more productive with my work time, so that I can allow myself to take some knitting time. That's a win-win idea.
There's an interesting discussion on Ravelry about how to knit faster. It's wandered from the usual continental/English debate* on to project fidelity (or lack thereof). It's interesting to me that now I've learned the joys of having a project in every room (well, nearly), all in different stages of completion and of different levels of complexity, I actually seem to be making better progress than when I was focused on just one thing - which you might have thought would make for faster completion. But of course there's a great advantage to having something ready to just pick up at any convenient moment, even if your big sweater/lace shawl/bed-sized afghan is at an awkward stage. And there's another factor too: enthusiasm. Sometimes getting stuck in a dreary bit of a big project turns you off knitting generally, at least for a while, unless you have other fun things to distract you.
What about knitting smarter, though? Particularly as regards design. I wonder whether I would need to reinstate a little project monogamy if I wanted to actually create a new design, one with a bit of detail and structure to it, one that requires some mental focus. I guess there's only one way to find out. Folks, consider this a vow: I will, before the year is out, get cracking on the cute swingy asymmetrical cabled jacket that is haunting my dreams...
But right now, I have a wedding shrug to deal with. I started swatching with my beautiful Kid Silk lace last night and suddenly I realise (being a bit slow on the uptake) that I might have rather more work on my hands than expected. Yes yes, you may all laugh now, you old KSH hands; I know it's notorious stuff. But I honestly didn't realise. Wish me luck.
(And just when my denim jacket was going so well... I'm halfway through the second sleeve. What are my chances of finishing the damn thing before 6 September? Considering I have this damn shrug to deal with, and preferably two, in case the colours don't match? Dammit.)
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* Which included some links to videos and such, which I perused because I've been wondering how people can say it's easier to rib continental-style when I find it so hard, and that's encouraged me to try it again, and we'll** report back on that later. But I also looked at Annie Modesitt's animations on her "combined method" and I'm now thoroughly confused. Her purl is indeed the way I tried continental purl, which is smooth and simple and gets the stitch sat the wrong way round on the needle. (Bummer.) But her knit... can anyone explain to me how that is different to a regular, English-style knit stitch? Or continental. I dunno. You can't really see how the yarn is held. Edit: I think I've just answered my own question, taking another look at it. The stitch is, indeed, sat differently on the needle, because of the purl stitch. Is that really the only difference? Sometimes I'm amazed at how much fuss gets made over tiny little details like that.
** No, I'm not sure why I sometimes lapse into the royal we when blogging either. But indulge me, would you? Us. Indulge us. We are amused by it.
Too much to do, too little time, but I just had to draw your attention to two things.
1. As of course you know, Saturday is Knit in Public Day. Now, that's a bit like Chocolate Day in my mind (what, you mean it's allowed just once a year? Ludicrous!), but let's turn it around and say that on this day it is compulsory to KIP, rather than just greatly to be encouraged, as per usual. (Suddenly I'm liking the idea of a Chocolate Day. Oh wait, that's called Easter!)
I'm going to be joining this trouble-making group here; I've long wanted to go to one of their meetings and never quite made it. If I can't get to Jubilee Gardens on KIP Day, really, there's no hope for me! So if you can get to Waterloo, please come and join me* — *cough* I mean, them — and if you can't, I'll expect to hear all about your KIP exploits afterwards.
2. My new blogfriend Chelsey has had a marvellous idea: a knitter's book swap. Note, this is not a knitting book swap, but a book swap for knitters. Novels, not know-how. I love it. I'm signing up right this second. If you want a chance of enjoying the benefit of my most excellent literary taste, then join us! Join us! And please, spread the word.
That's it. I'll be back with pictures (of socks, and presumably, knitters! In public! Quite shameless!) very shortly.
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* Their itinerary is demanding. It starts on the steps of St Paul's, at noon. Then moving onto the Tate Modern (1.30-2.30), the London Eye (3.30-4.30) and Trafalgar Square (5-6pm). While I think the full tour sounds like a bundle of fun, I must restrict myself to just one choice venue, and for transport reasons** I pick the London Eye.
** I.e. I'm a lazy git who won't stray too far from the station.
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.
Just found this great tool via the comments over at Dee's:
Seems very easy to use, and I particularly enjoy the "tink" and "frog" commands on the edit menu!
* That's German for "useful". It's one of my favourite words; I just love the suggestion of nuttiness. It's fun to say. Go on, try it. Out loud. Entertain your co-workers.
I almost forgot — I hear there is a rocking exhibition this month at the Here Gallery, called Twisted: Knitting on the edge, and featuring "15 artists who are exploring the subversive potential of knitting". Sounds cool.
Did anyone see the Metro this Monday? It had a feature about craftivism, with a wee shout-out to the glittyknittykitty girls as well as other fibre fiends. Great to have people picking up on the wide range of what's happening in the needlecraft world, but I must admit I was disappointed; an appreciation of the humour of it seemed rather lacking. Ah well. Ours to enjoy, right?
Knitting can send you over the edge. For reals.
Absolutely one of the cutest animations I've seen in a long while!
You know when you just have too many odd balls left over from too many projects, and no idea what to do with them? You could maybe make a single sock. Or a quarter of a cushion. Or a patchwork afghan... if you don't mind patches of clashing colours, wildly differing weights and scarily unsuitable yarns.
Or you could make a door handle cosy.
Why not?! They did.
And let's not forget the now world-famous tree sweater. From a Seattle in-joke to New Zealand fashion magazine story, this little scrap of pink wool has made its presence known.
Even if you have a strict will-only-clothe-animated-subjects policy, there's scope for crazy: how about a
squirrel sweater?
And cute to revolutionary isn't that big a leap either. Check out Marianne's project to cover army tanks in pink: "The tank is a symbol of stepping over other people’s borders. When it is covered in pink, it becomes completely unarmed and it loses its authority." (Hat tip to the knittivists for the link.)
There. Don't let nobody tell you knitting* is boring.
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*Or crochet, yes, in the case of the squirrel...
Time was when I thought of knitting as an essentially solitary activity. Just you and the needles, and maybe a cat or three. Then came the internet, and the knitting boom (no coincidence I reckon, but I'll save that for another time), and stitch and bitch groups, and then came blogs, and knitalongs, and suddenly knitters seemed like the most sociable group on the web. And in the pub, and in the park...
And then we got Organised.
One crazy Canadian got inspired, and suddenly the whole world was talking about the Knitting Olympics. We've hardly recovered from that and now, the Knitting World Cup! ...in fact, there are two. This one is expressly for charity; very cool. Confusing, but cool.
If you're more inspired by cheesy reality TV than football (and who could blame you, really), there's The Amazing Lace. Except it's already started, so for those of us who haven't signed up, it's strictly spectator knitting at this point. Never mind; it's never too late to Knit the Classics — a knitalong for the bookish! I love it.
My confession? I'm participating in none of these. I watch with great excitement and awe, but I have a little commitment problem. There's been a lot to do round these parts, and knitting — dare I say it — is not top priority. I mean, obviously there is knitting happening; how else could a person stay sane? But it has to happen at my pace. Otherwise I'm just asking for trouble.
(Also, my needles are otherwise occupied with tit bits. Which should be delivered tout de suite, really.)
But in the meantime there's always Worldwide Knit in Public Day. And this weekend promises to be gloriously sunny. Show your sticks, knitters!
Craftistas spotted in the Grauniad.
Purlescence spotted on Glittyknittykitty (totally my favourite knitting blog evah).
And so we take over the world, one politically incorrect phrase at a time.
The AntiCraft's latest issue is up, and this is just so pretty, I only wish I had a Beltane celebration to attend. Maybe I should arrange one especially... bit late though.
Doll part gardening is particularly entertaining, although as they say, you don't really need instructions. Just be inspired.
Are you the best knitter in the UK? Course you are. If you're ready to prove it, check out the BBC's National Village Show — they're looking for competitors to defend their traditional accomplishments (biggest marrow! knottiest cable?) against all comers in a fight to the death. Well, maybe not to the death, but rather to the cash, in the true spirit of reality TV. Give it a go if you're hard enough.
Of course, that juxtaposition of knitting and gardening reminded me of the Knitted Garden project. I'll be terribly disappointed if the BBC don't feature a few woolly wisteria.
Personally I find all that cleverness a little overwhelming. I prefer my knitting a little more relaxing. You know, just hanging out... Eeek! No, not like that!