Saturday Muddle
This is pure unadulterated lust. 1300 yards of peridot green with hints of bronze. Alpaca/merino/silk. Lace. Lust. My brain is galloping through all the relevant patterns. My heart is beating fast. You non-knitters, you have no idea how a knitter's pulse can race just by looking at some yarn. It is a heady feeling.
Thankfully the yarn is already mine as I actually dyed it myself yesterday afternoon. Woo.
Isn't it funny how I can always make time for lace knitting even though my knitting schedule is already full? Is that similar to how sock knitters think? Just one more skein of laceweight sock yarn? Just one more shawl pair of monkeys? Maybe I can relate to the sock knitters after all.
I really did not mean to make this yet another post about knitting, but somehow I succumbed. I do have links to share, but first: more knitting!
I finished the first of my The Vicar's Mitts and I'm overjoyed. Most glove patterns run too big for my ludicrously tiny hands. They are much too wide and then paradoxically too short for the upper part of my hand ("this bit") which therefore must be longer than the average hand. Witness the joy of designing a pattern that fits you like a .. erm .. uhm .. er.. glove!
If I were to be critical, I'd probably want to extend the corrugated ribbing cuff for added warmth, but I'm thinking a longer cuff would ruin the look. And I love how it looks and fits. I should do this self-designing lark more often. It's very gratifying.
(I do apologise for the photo. it is the oddest thing: on Ravelry the photo is crisp and beautiful; uploaded to Flickr, the same photo turns overly sharp/defined; here it turns blurry. What gives? And no, the glove hasn't been blocked which is why it is slightly lumpy.)
So, links.
- Firstly, a knitting link. I love Patsy. I think a red Patsy & I are meant to be. I have a cunning plan.
- Persnickety Snark has posted its Top 100 YA Books. Funny how so much YA literature is superior to so-called "grown-up literature" (Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials is one of my all-time favourite reads. Ian McEwan's much-praised Atonement isn't. ).
- One of the few sewing blogs I read had a fantastic entry: We Live in a Good Body. I have my own reasons for having assorted body issues, and I found it strangely .. affirming to read Gertie's entry: "I think so much of our culture is built around the idea of somehow getting another body, as strange as that may sound.(..) I've certainly spent plenty of time buying into the idea that I could somehow have a "better body" if I just did something differently. There's no upgrading to a better body in this lifetime. I already have a body, and it's a good body."
- This Air New Zealand in-flight video made my day. I don't even think you'd need to be a Kiwiphile to get a kick out of it (although if you are, yes the soundtrack is The Exponents)
- Karl Lagerfeld amuses me endlessly. I don't know why. Or maybe I do.
- AfterElton.com looks at obsessive fandoms. I'm long out of 'fandom', but I still have scars to show from my brief journey into X-Files fandom all those years ago. Although I've met some great people through my fannish years, I've also seen quite a bit of scary behaviour. Really scary behaviour.
And on a final note, I have definitely become Middle Class with a capital Em and Cee. I went out shopping for booze (long story) and I came home with organic ginger beer from a local brewery. Well then.
Changing
Ever played the casting game? You take one film or TV series and try to recast it using a specific criteria. One of my favourite ones was the "Lord of the Rings gone Hollywood bad" challenge. That one had Dolph Lundgren as Aragorn and Pam Anderson as Eowyn. My latest recasting involves the Inception cast. Apparently Christopher Nolan presented the idea to a Hollywood film company in 2001. So, if the project had been greenlighted in 2001, who would have played the various characters?
The central character, Cobb, a charismatic action hero with underlying trauma? Tom Cruise, of course. He did Vanilla Sky around the same time and was at the height of his career. As a result, I'd say that Penelope Cruz would be a shoo-in to be the 2001 version of Marion Cotillard. Julia Stiles might work as the young architecture student, now played by Ellen Page, but I struggle when it comes to the other actors. Who would have been the 2001 equivalent of Tom Hardy? Joseph Gordon-Levitt? Cillian Murphy? It's a silly game but I have been playing it in my head ever since I saw Inception last week (which is a peculiarly fitting way to think about the film, I suppose).
And now for some knitting.
I cast on for Kim Hargreaves' Opal shawl/scarf last night. I had some Kidsilk Aura in my stash from one of my recent stashing downfalls. The colour is really interesting - it is grey but with a blue undertone. It looks a lot like wet asphalt(!) and also like the colour of the haematite gemstone. Normally I would not touch a colour like that, but I think my Scandinavian minimalist wants out at the moment.
The pattern is incredibly easy - so easy that I decided to mess it up three times by not paying attention to the instructions and just playing it by ear. I find easy patterns the most difficult ones, actually. I got back on track, though, and the shawl is zipping along merrily. I am going to up-size it slightly as a I had a brain-blunder when I ordered my needles. For some reason I ordered 8mm needles instead of 9mm .. and can I just say that the KnitPro acrylic tips are not my favourite? The actual tip of the needle is wonderfully pointy, but the needle itself feels cheap (like bog-standard plastic needles) and the acrylic makes the yarn drag a bit. If I had known, I would just have gone for regular circulars and not expensive interchangeable needle-tips.
Hopefully I will finish it today or tomorrow. Hopefully it'll stop raining so I can post a photo. Hopefully.
Time-Travelling
First, a link: this Cat & Girl comic strip made me chuckle quietly. Grrl travels fifteen years forward to meet her future self. 1990s Grrl is underwhelmed by 2010 Grrl. And I chuckled quietly because I saw myself.
Having said that, I am mostly the same person I was fifteen years ago. I am older with a few new scars and bruises. I am also a bit wiser, less sociable, and more forgiving. I like the same things I did fifteen years ago (books, computer games, cake, my bed, old Hollywood musicals, vintage clothes, typography, Eurovision, and dogs) but I have added new things (my gawjuss Scottish boyfriend, yarn, coffee, philosophy, and matching colours). I think my 1995-self and my 2010-incarnation would get along just fine, although I bet my 1995-self would be appalled at my hairstyle (I just had my hair cut this past week and I am appalled).
In fact, almost fifteen years ago I made a deal with a good friend (who I miss dearly over here in Scotland). She would cook me a fancy three-course dinner if I wrote a book. Now it could not be just any old book - it had to be a special kind of book. My friend did not expect me to write an academic treatise nor did she want me to write a big literary sensation. She wanted me to write a frothy piece of Regency Romance.
I have read a lot of RRs - they are my comfort foods, my security blankets. I grew up in a household devoted to the weeklies' feuilletons, our local library's stash of Jalna-like books and, of course, Barbara Cartland (who I blame for my youthful infatuation with Lord Byron). Later I discovered Georgette Heyer who may be frothy but never nauseating (unlike Cartland). Today I go through phases: I may read a lot of RRs over a few weeks but then several years pass before my next RR frenzy. These phases usually coincide with stress, feeling homesick or going through a rough patch. Comfort foods and security blankets, indeed.
Could I write a passable RR? I think I could come up with a suitable plot involving, say, a Scottish laird's daughter who is sent to London for the season - on the way she meets a dashing highwayman who happens to be a notorious rake settling a wager. Add a couple of dogs, a duel, a dollop of gambling debt and a waltz at Almack's and I think we have a winner. Now all I have to do is write the darn thing and that fancy three-course dinner will be mine, MINE!
.. My younger self would be tempted, my 2010 self will probably just make the three-course dinner and skip all the writing.
In other time-travel-related news, Doctor Who made me cry this week with an episode about Vincent van Gogh, of all people. Your mileage may vary - the episode has divided fans in various online fora - but I took a great deal from it about beauty, art and life.
Completely unrelated: Congratulations are due to SoCherry who is on her way to becoming an honest woman and to Paula who ran a charity race today. Two of my best friends here in Scotland and they keep on amazing me.
Knitting In Public: True Stories
The couple approached me as I sat knitting. The woman told me that she had recently begun knitting again and that it was so nice to see a young woman knitting in public (I'm now the age when I appreciate being called a young woman). She then moved away to look at some flowers; her husband sat down on the bench next to me.
"So, do you have a special man in your life?" he wondered. I do have a very special man in my life, yes.
"Do you ever KNIT FOR HIM?" His voice grew a bit louder. I admitted that I do occasionally make something for my man.
"Do you KNIT HIM JUMPERS?" Yes, I knit my special one jumpers.
"I bet he LOVES your HANDKNITTED JUMPERS!" The man shot his wife a significant glance. "What a LUCKY MAN!"
Pause. Then his voice grew even louder.
"What about socks? Do you knit socks? Do you ever KNIT SOCKS FOR YOUR MAN?! Ach, NOTHING SAYS LOVE LIKE HANDKNITTED SOCKS!"
And that was when the woman decided she needed to go look at flowers far away from me and my knitting needles.
Reading, Watching, Knitting, Thinking.
I'm currently reading Colm Toíbín's Brooklyn. I am reading it slowly, taking it in line by line. I always do this with Toíbín's books; they deserve attention and care. Also, Brooklyn cuts very close to the bone with its story about a woman leaving one country to seek a better life in another country. Sometimes a bit too close. Some decisions are not made easily and the outcome is messier that anyone might expect. I'm thinking about what we as readers bring to books and what books bring out in us.
Mainly, though, I have been trying to finish my little red cardigan. I have had a couple of DVD marathons (verdict: Oh, I love Gregory Peck, the smallest gestures can be completely devastating, and Neil Finn should ditch the falsetto & Johnny Marr) and I'm now one tiny frill and a buttonband away from completion. I am thinking Synecdoche, New York might work for that. Then, it's upwards and onwards. New things to knit, new projects to fret about.
Oh, because I have certain weaknesses, these blog posts were really amusing: Create Your Own Regency Romance and Call In The Angry Villagers: 10 Clichés We Can Live Without. I swear I haven't touched any such reads in months.
And finally, I just loved this little throwaway line by John Cameron Mitchell: "There's no question (..) that Lady Gaga and Hedwig are from the same clan." So true and now I don't know why I didn't twig this earlier.
Going Places
Crocheting Adventures with Hyperbolic Planes, a book on how to make geometric models using needlepoint, has won a prize given to oddly-titled books.
Written by Latvian mathematician Daina Taimina, it was adjudged the winner of the annual Diagram Prize after a public vote run by the Bookseller magazine.
I think it says a lot about me that I didn't batter an eyelid at the title. Besides, Crocheting Adventures with Hyperbolic Planes does not hold a candle to books like Highlights in the History of Concrete or Bombproof Your Horse, both previous winners.
I finished my Monkey socks this weekend. They are very pink/lilac, but they do warm my feet (perfect for that impending snow we are supposedly getting). I'm just happy I won't have to use the Yarn Yard Bonny again. Just too synthetic for my taste. I have wound two cakes of delicious sock yarn - The Thylacine's Wellington BFL/nylon and Old Maiden Aunt's merino 4ply - and have scoured Ravelry for sock patterns. Like Ms Mooncalf, I think it is time to admit that sock knitting is no longer abhorrent or strange. It certainly has a place in my life.
Some exciting news: I will be teaching knitting and crochet classes in Glasgow this spring. Topics include the usual beginners' courses in both knitting and crochet, but also some advanced courses such as Continental knitting, Fair-Isle knitting combining English & Continental techniques, beading, finishing techniques and, yes, sock knitting . I'll be posting more info on the Glasgow and Scots Knits Ravelry groups soon or contact me directly if you want to know more. All the courses will last one hour and are free. Woohoo!
Finally, two blog posts about how we relate to our bodies. Kate Davies writes eloquently about how to formulate and describe the relationship (particularly if you have fallen ill) whilst Lilith of Old Maiden Aunt writes about feeling disconnected from her body. Both posts ask pertinent questions to which I can relate. I wish I felt ready to write about my personal struggles in terms of body and mind, but maybe someday I feel comfortable adding my thoughts. I thank both Kate and Lilith for being bolder than me.
Best Item Description Ever
I was looking for some gift ideas when I found the Adopt A Polar Bear Gift Pack:
The Adopt A Polar Bear is the perfect gift for those who have always wanted a pet polar bear, but are scared of getting mauled to death
(..)
What a fantastic feeling to know that you have done a little bit toward making our world a better place and making sure the Polar Bears get there cappucino and Jaffa Cake rations (or whatever it is they spend the money on).
Boredom Sets In
A brief link today pilfered from elsewhere: Hey, Oscar Wilde!. It is "a personal art collection of various artists interpreting their favourite literary figure/author/character". I really like this Winnie the Pooh.
Health update: I managed to get dressed and head outside today. Okay, I went across the road to the local supermarket and I went straight back to bed afterwards, but it's progress!
Speaking of progress, I finished the yoke on David's sweater tonight. He tried it on and we quickly agreed that the textured design on the yoke didn't work. I ripped back the 40-ish rows and I'm back to the drawing board. I know some might complain, but I'm fine with it. after all, I'd rather have him liking the finished sweater than me finishing something quickly which will never get worn. My shawl is also progressing well (and the list of unlistened-to podcasts is dwindling fast)..
.. I just want to get better really, really soon. If you think my blog posts are dull, imagine how I feel.
Mad, Bad & Orange To Know
Being ill has its benefits. Last time I was stuck in bed for more than two days in a row, I ploughed through Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell which I had previously failed to get into (the plot starts unfolding one-third through the novel). This time around I am knitting whilst listening to podcasts on John Milton (interesting) and Ezra Pound (dull and I even mouthed 'WRONG' at my ipod at one point).
I'm knitting with my bright orange 2-ply baby alpaca (yes, the colour is accurate in the photo). It is underspun, rather fragile and almost angora-like soft. And I'm knitting Percy, a pattern which I have previously attempted to knit. I'm now halfway through my second repeat of the dastardly Chart B and I might add in another repeat before doing the edging chart, just to make the shawl a bit bigger. It almost seems a shame to knit an intricate pattern in fuzzy yarn, but the process knitter in me actually Does Not Care. It'll be a mad, colourful and warm shawl - and I will have conquered Chart B. That is all that matters.
I am still ill, alas, but I think today I will actually get dressed!
And here's a little news story which may cheer you up:
Rumors of a city of 25,000 lesbians have led hordes of men to contact Swedish tourist authorities and swamp the nation's Internet providers. Chinese media especially have spread the tale of “Chako Paul City,” supposedly founded in 1820 in northern Sweden by a man-hating widow who banned males, reports Australia's Daily Telegraph. Inhabitants then turned to lesbianism “because they could not suppress their sexual needs,” goes one recent account in China’s Harbin News service. Swedish tourist authorities are baffled. “I've no idea where this came from, but it's not true," said a spokesman. “At 25,000 residents, the town would be one of the largest in northern Sweden, and I find it hard to believe that you could keep something like that a secret for more than 150 years.”
(I cannot remember how I came across it - if it's via you, please let me know so I can credit)
Deja Vu
YouTube Comment or E.E.Cummings? One of the funniest 20th century poetry/21st Century internet crossovers I have seen today. Not that I have seen that many, of course.
After a few weeks of awe-inspiring knitting productivity, my busy fingers have become almost idle. I cast on, knit maybe twenty rows, decide the project doesn't thrill me and I rip it all out. Lather, rinse, repeat. Possibly it is the continuous failure of Topstykke that haunts me. The pattern is great, of course, but I keep messing up:
- I cast on too few stitches and tried to remedy this whilst on a fast moving bus to Aberdeenshire filled with shouty Russian students.
- I cast on the correct number of stitches but lost my stitch markers somewhere between a sofa and the kitchen table (a 3 year old nephew might have been involved).
- I cast on correct number of stitches, got all of the set-up row right and blissfully knitted on until I realised that I was knitting a size up from what I'm supposed to knit.
- I cast on correct number of stitches, got all of the set-up row right and blissfully knitted on until I realised I had twisted my cast-on and I was knitting a moebius-shaped top which will be impossible to wear (in this dimension, at least).
So I think it is time to let Topstykke rest for a few weeks whilst I get other things done. David's sweater is a top priority (he won the Halloween costume competition, by the way) and I want to have another lace shawl on my needles (Aeolian, I'm looking at you). I just hope that I can stick with those two projects and not rip them out after twenty rows.
Shockingly enough I have begun reading again and am currently one-third through Iain Banks' Transition. Banks strides the literary and speculative fiction divide, but cunningly uses a middle initial "M" to differentiate between the two genres. Interestingly, "Transition" is being marketed in the UK without the "M" (i.e. it is not speculative fiction, you fools!) whereas the US market gets courted with the "M" (hey, it's speculative fiction!). My favourite Banks novel, The Bridge, is a non-M novel but is more speculative than many genre novels. It's all about marketing, isn't it? So far I'm enjoying the novel, in case you were wondering..