Finishing

New year.
New job.
New city.

I have lots of reasons for my silence. No time to post. No time to knit. I am lucky to get one row a night done on this pretty thing



(Swallowtail Shawl by Evelyn Clark)
which was due by my mother's birthday. Which was two weeks ago.
I only have 8 rows to go.

(This is, obviously, what I am making with my beloved handspun laceweight BFL. It's my biggest handspun project to date, and giving it away is a supreme act of generosity because I love it so much. Perhaps that's another reason it's taking me so long to finish.)

I wanted to end 2007 with a post about finishing. Better late than never.

I was very despondent about my finishing skills after my first Baby Surprise Jacket (see here).

But I made two great strides before 2007 was over.
For one thing, I made a second BSJ that I was much, much happier with than the first one.



The reason? This:



I can't remember where I read a blogger's description of reinforcing the button band by sewing ribbon tape on the reverse side of the button band and doubling the buttons. But I tried it. And it worked like a charm (and even went through the washer and dryer like a charm). As a result the sweater seemed to me much crisper, neater, and, well, more finished.

The other stride involves the poor languishing still-unfinished Chanel Crossing (most recently blogged about here). It's all sewn up, ends are woven in, and the border is kicking my ass. I'd love to be able to wear this to my new office before it gets too warm, but I'm not counting on it.

But the revelation here involved CROCHETED SEAMS.
Now, my first knitting book, and therefore my touchstone, was Maggie Righetti's Knitting in Plain English. I still think this book is delightful. But some of its outspoken views are, well, not my own. Primary among these is her repudiation of the crocheted seam. If I remember correctly (I can't refer to the book since I have loaned it to a new knitter), she equates crocheting the seam on a knit sweater to pouring canned chocolate sauce all over a delicately flavored soufflé. Or something along those lines. So I read that and vowed I would never crochet a seam.

Well, Maggie, you are wrong, wrong, wrong. Because if I had tried to stitch-seam the sleeves on a three-color tweed jacket, I would have basically gone mad. You can't even mattress-stitch these pieces properly, because of the way the colors vary at the end of every row.

Instead, I got this.



This is a shoulder. It may not look all that great to you, but believe me, no other sleeve I've set in, or rather attempted to set in, would withstand such close scrutiny.

And on the inside, the seam is a nice straight line.



(Sorry for the crap photo. I guess you'll have to take my word for it.)

There are different ways to set in a sleeve, many of them involving the equivalent of grafting, and I will continue to hone my skills in them. But I can guarantee that this jacket would never have looked so crisp had I not crocheted those seams.

For photographic proof that the whole thing DOES look good, though, you may have to wait another couple of months.

Spin Cycle

One amusing thing about being a beginning spinner is that you have no idea what you are doing.

I have been sitting since Rhinebeck over my 4 ounces of Blue-Faced Leicester roving, spinning away and wondering why I wasn't getting through it faster.
After I filled two bobbins I began plying it. It still seemed pretty irregular, and I thought, Well, I'll have some coarse handspun to make into a shawl for my mother.

Then, when I started spinning on my spindle and it did seem to go faster - I spun up the whole 4 oz of the Spunky Fiber Club's November installment in a few days - I just assumed I was getting better.
It wasn't until I had finished all of the Spunky Club roving (Falklands wool, 212 yards total)



and was back at my wheel finishing the BFL that it dawned on me that I had actually spun laceweight.



You'd think I might have noticed before then, but no, I thought it was going to turn out pretty chunky.
262 yards, 21 wpi, and I still have quite a bit of the 4 oz hank (from Cloverleaf Farm, colorway "Jewels") to go. I hope I can hit 400 yards.

Actually, I just hope I can keep spinning this fine, now that I've gotten all self-conscious about it.

Corn Dogs

You know you have entered a new stage of fiber addiction when you start using implements that make your spinning wheel feel high-tech.

I was forced to leave my wheel for a few days with two bobbins of gorgeous BFL singles on it, only half-plied. This was such a wrench that thinking about plying kept me awake a couple of nights.

Meanwhile, this month's package from the Spunky Eclectic fiber club arrived.




Falklands wool, in the color "Pie for Everyone."

And I still haven't touched last month's installment. Because I am still spinning the BFL I started after Rhinebeck. The BFL I thought I would be done with in a week. (Yes, there has been limited fiber time this month.)

In my frustration, I turned to a $15 implement I had bought on a whim for just such an eventuality, but never learned to use.


I learned to use it.
I divided the fiber into four equal sections, and divided two of those sections lengthwise, and spun them on the spindle to create reasonably equal amounts of fiber.
What I got were two corn dogs.


Two unequal corn dogs. (Here's what was left over from the larger one after plying.)


I guess my skills at dividing roving equally are even more low-tech than my technique for spinning them.
Note the nod to Chinese take-out in the creative use of chopsticks.

I then turned to my trusty Lazy Kate. Size 10, if you were wondering.

Once I had plied the yarn, I went for the niddy noddy.


And presto - a very small, and rather overtwisted, skein of yarn. (About 93 yards.)


The yarn is having a bath now which should calm that twist down nicely. You could hear it fizz with relief as it entered the water.
2 oz. down, 2 to go.

I get back to the wheel on Sunday. It's going to feel like a Cadillac after this.

Chance of rain

Or so they said in yesterday's weather forecast.



What a perfect day for sitting and knitting and spinning. Unfortunately I have to work.

I got nothing for the blog this week. I'm still slogging away on the divine Chanel Crossing. Here are some sneak preview pictures (blurry, as befits sneak preview pictures. This is the blog equivalent of those first-run movies you can buy on DVD from some guy on the street who taped it in the theater on his pocket video camera. You want them in focus, you have to wait for the official premiere).




My husband looked at me last night as I inched my way up the second sleeve and said, "Is that the sweater you wanted to finish for Rhinebeck?"

I think I detected a faint note of derision in his voice, but perhaps it was merely incredulity. I hope it was incredulity that I would wear something so glamourous to Rhinebeck, rather than a hint of doubt that I would finish this by Christmas.

Handspun Harlot Hat

Three years ago I never would have dreamed that you could make this


into this


by way of this


thanks to this.

When I saw Stephanie's post about a spontaneous hat I knew that was what my handspun wanted to be.
It was my first actual cable project too, so I can cross that one off my list.

And I think I even have enough yarn left for a scarf.

Gloves & Monsters

Here's a belated Halloween post showcasing my mismatched handspun handwarmers.


Same number of stitches, different levels of spinning skill.
Result: one handwarmer fits a human hand. One looks like it was made for the Incredible Hulk.

The arty flower shot is a tribute both to our fall crocuses (a highly recommended flower, sending up bright splotches of white and purple in the carpet of fallen leaves) and to this Halloween-season classic.

Rhinebeck

I did not finish my sweater in time. (In fact, I haven't even finished the first sleeve. I have, however, knit the sleeve cap twice, and am working on attempt number 3.)

I did not take any pictures.

I did not eat fried artichokes. (My friend and I found it notable that the line for artichokes was as long as the line at the fleece shed.)

I did not buy any yarn.
I did not even buy wool carders, though now I wish I had.

I did not buy the gorgeous shining electric green bamboo roving that I had in my hand at the start of the day, when I had forbidden myself to buy anything til I had cased the joint. When I went back to get it, every scrap of their bamboo was gone. (Still kicking myself over that one.)

But I did buy other things.


Clockwise from top: 4 oz of Blue-Faced Leicester roving; approx. 4 ounces of a tussah silk/merino blend as creamy and rich as ice cream; 5 ounces of a wool blend whose provenance I forget; and one lovely, shining, Romney fleece.


A fiber orgy.

Getting my first fleece was a rite of passage. After waiting in line for an hour, hundreds of ravenous fiber hounds fell on this room full of fleeces like Bridezillas at a wedding-gown sale. I roamed rather haplessly up and down the aisles, pushing past overstuffed bags of fleece and the warm bodies of people thrusting their hands into them (one woman was testing locks by spinning them up on a drop spindle), feeling like a fraud and not sure what I was supposed to be looking for. (I wanted Blue-Faced Leicester, but I think most of that was in the separate BFL area.) At one point I saw that Amy King (aka Spunky Eclectic/Boogie Knits) was right next to me, going toward a fleece with such an air of fierce determination that I didn't have the nerve to say anything to her. She definitely seemed to know what she wanted (evidently she got six fleeces).
But after all that I did find a fleece that spoke to me, a Romney with a wonderful shiny luster and great crimp. And after some inner debate, and the requisite testing of a lock for crimp and strength, I headed toward the check-out with that and a cottony Corriedale. I made myself put the Corriedale back - one whole fleece is plenty for a beginner to deal with. Let alone a beginner who right now has more work than she can handle.
I adore the Romney.

And I got right to work spinning the BFL.


(This is an old picture - my first bobbin is now full.)