Roving

Listening to some people at the knitters' group meeting last week discuss their amazing yarn stashes inspired me to take a good look at my own. "Amazing" it is not. It consists mostly of leftover bits of yarn from past projects, and nearly all of it fits in a large lidded plastic bin from IKEA. Stuffed into the back of my closet, behind the bin, I did discover one bag I had completely forgotten: it contains four wheels of peach-colored pencil roving. I had originally purchased them with the idea that I'd make a poncho or something and felt it, but I didn't get very far in the knitting because the roving kept tearing. So I put it aside...and that was about a year and a half ago.

I sent an e-mail about this to the knitters' group, asking for suggestions on what to do with the roving. (One person in this group told me that what I described as "a blob of yarn that looks like a squished donut" was actually called a "wheel," like a wheel of cheese.) One person suggested I make Elizabeth Zimmerman's rib warmer vest. I think it looks like fun! She's going to help me get started on it (and show me one she made herself). With luck, I'll have it finished in time for next winter!

A local knitting group

Last month, I attended a meeting of a local knitting group for the first time. I'm not sure how long this group has been meeting (in a nearby township's very swank community center), but I was first invited last fall by two friends who are fellow moms in my daughter's playgroup and who attend the same church we do. Only in the last couple of months has Sylvia's bedtime schedule become reliably consistent enough for me to be able to pop out of the house for a few hours in the evening. (Her dad is absolutely wonderful about baby wrangling, but if she needs to nurse...well, he really can't help in that department!)

At the March meeting, there were four people present: one of my friends, two longtime members, and me. Everyone was so nice, and I got some great advice about sewing on buttons (i.e., put a clear button on the back side to provide support, and use the same yarn for sewing because sewing or button thread is just too rough on the knitting and might tear through it).

At tonight's meeting, both of my friends were present, as well as four longtime members, one of whom just returned from a seven-week trip to New Zealand (*drool*) and showed off some of the amazing yarn she bought there. The leader (official or de facto, I'm not sure) of the group, Pat, is an amazing storehouse of knitting knowledge. She's also quite opinionated about knitting techniques and methods--and not at all afraid to tell you what she thinks. Surprisingly, this doesn't come off in the least bit obnoxious. She somehow finds a way to be very friendly and helpful when she tells you that your bottom-side-of-the-sleeve-seaming could be better. She told my friend Katie and me that...and then proceeded to show us, very carefully, how to do mattress seaming properly. I for one was grateful for the lesson, because seaming is not my forte (as the Frankenblanket aptly demonstrated).

I showed off the striped baby sweater (this is what elicited Pat's observations about my seaming), as well as Anouk (whose side bands I haven't adjusted yet--but since Sylvia won't be wearing until next fall or so, I'm not in a hurry).

I also got advice on my next project: a cardigan to go with Anouk. When I ordered the yarn for this pinafore, I actually ordered the exact yarn that was called for in the pattern--no substitutes whatsoever. And I ordered an extra ball of each color, just in case. Well, if you look at Anouk, you'll see that it uses very little purple and even less red--so I have a lot of those colors left over, along with a healthy amount of green and orange.

Anyway, I had a great time at the knitting group meeting, and I very much encourage everyone to knit with friends at least once in a while. It's nice to compare projects, it's reassuring to get a "That looks great!" or advice on a troublesome part, and it's great just to hang out and chat with friendly people who share your obsession, er, I mean hobby...

Option paralysis

I'm still avoiding the cardigan with the too-short sleeves, so I've been looking for another project to start. I finished up a second dog blanket for my friend Beth, and I tidied up my surprisingly ample yarn stash. There isn't enough to anything to start a really big project (like a blanket or a sweater for an adult), but there are single skeins or balls or lots of different things. One friend of mine is expecting child #2 this month, and I want to knit something for the baby (known to be a boy). Maybe I'll try my hand at winging it and see if I can figure out how to make a knitted version of this one-piece sweater. Or maybe I'll crank out a jester hat for the guy--who doesn't love those, right?

Sleeve frustration

Well, I've mostly finished the cardigan I've been working on. I say "mostly" because I just completed the second sleeve...and I think it may be too short. (This garment was begun in my "Gauge swatch? We don't need no stinkin' gauge swatch!" days.) As someone whose arms are often just a tad too long for whatever size garment I'm wearing (what I really need is a size S shirt/sweater/top with size M arms), I have a fear of knitting sweaters with too-short arms. This fear resulting in Sylvia's first sweater, which has arms long enough to suit an orangutan. Anyway, now it looks like the sleeves for the cardigan are too short. I can either undo the bindoff and add a bunch of rows (which probably won't work, 'cause the bottom of the sleeve will still be too tight for a chubby baby wrist) or completely redo both sleeves. It looks like the latter will be the best option, but right now I'm feeling too annoyed to do this. Project Completion Satisfaction was within my grasp...only to be snatched away at the last minute by too-long sleeves. Grrrrr.

Grumbles

When I was working in the city, my local yarn shop was one I could walk to during my lunch hour. It was in the middle of the historic part of town, so the scenery was nice and the traffic not too bad (it's hard for someone to drive like a bat out of hell on a cobblestone street). The staff were nice enough, and the regular yarn selection okay, but my favorite part of the store was the bargain basket under the table with the books for sale. Each ball or skein in that basket was only four bucks! The basket contained leftovers--too few balls to make it worth the shop owner's while to waste valuable shelf space on them. There was never enough of one yarn for an adult-sized sweater, but I could always find at least a scarf-worthy amount or something. Once in a while I got really lucky, as when I found six balls of Debbie Bliss baby cashmerino in brown (in this case, the societal tendency to dress babies in pastels and brights worked in my favor, 'cause that meant this lovely brown was just waiting for me to give it a home). Most of the time, though, I'd end up with one or two skeins of some interesting yarn that I probably wouldn't have given a second look to if I'd had to buy it at full price. But for four bucks I'm happy to add it to my stash and do some experimenting with it!

Unfortunately my current local yarn shop--the one that's near where I live--doesn't have a bargain basket like this. Phooey. The store has some great yarn, but, to be honest, most of it is far too expensive for me to be able to afford--and certainly too pricey for the sort of dare-taking and experimentation that a bargin basket encourages. I sure do miss those great deals...