little stuff

Is it okay if I leave the kids to their own devices in the sandbox for a few minutes while I drink a beer and blog? Because if I have to listen to one. more. minute. of incessant whining I just might lose my grip. The little stuff can break you, ya know?

Anyway.

Here are some detail shots of those shorts I made for Anya.



This is how I finished most of the seams:



And here's a bit of ribbon I tucked in the elastic casing as a faux label:



As far as knitting goes, I've been working through some smaller projects lately. Glenna's Viper Pilots socks, for one. Normally, I consider socks to be a small project, but this particular pattern is very involved. There is a big ol' chart with lots of cables and twisted stitches and long row repeats and such. Even though the finished result will be small in terms of physical space, these socks are going to take forever to finish because I can't work on them unless I'm free from all other distraction. Which is practically never. That's okay, though, because I don't have a deadline. I suppose I could have chosen a simpler sock project a month or so ago when I started these, but I like the design (and Glenna's blog) so much I just couldn't resist.



Here's a simple little cardigan I was hoping to finish before summer weather makes all things wool irrelevant. It's a free pattern from the Classic Elite website (this one), and I'm using the yarn it calls for and everything. It's called simply "one-fifty", and it's a sport weight merino wool, and it is squishy and fab-yoo-lussss.



In fact, I like this yarn so much that I bought some more to make Anya a sweater. I know, I know, I shouldn't be buying. But I couldn't resist this pattern I found on Ravelry and a friend of mine who's moving away gave me her almost-full punch card to Lakeside Fibers and my already somewhat weakened resolve just caved when I found the perfect colors...
(Yeah. That's how stash happens, y'all.)



And last, this little cardigan that has gone so fast, it's almost done and I haven't mentioned it until now. This is a free pattern from the IK Knitting Daily website. I'm so glad they offered it for free because it is simply the only thing I like at all in the summer issue (so glad I let my subscription lapse, btw). I'm using RYC cashsoft DK I've had sitting around. The color is "imp," an odd peachy-yellow that not many people could wear. I held it up next to Anya and it's dreadful on her, I'm afraid, even though the sweater would fit her. So I need to find a tot to wear this little thing!



You see I have little projects going now, but big plans for more. I also hope to do some more warm-weather sewing. So, like always, stay tuned!

serger=fail

I could get used to these 3-day weekends! Since Stu had the day off, I was hoping to get a lot of sewing done. This morning between snacks and diaper changes, I managed to sew some more produce bags (tutorial coming soon, I promise!). This afternoon I had grand plans to sew up some summer shorts for Anya. It's just about the simplest pattern ever and it should have taken half an hour from start to finish but my serger kind of blew up in my face.

Well, not really. "Blew up in my face" just might be a bit of an exaggeration. In truth, it was much less dramatic than that. I turned it on, re-threaded one of the 4 (!) cones of thread (it broke the other day when I was trying to use it, and I am just getting around to rethreading now), closed up the safety plate, got a scrap piece of fabric to do a test run, pressed on the pedal...and nothing happened. NOTHING. Nada.

Sigh. Of course a 30-minute project turned into a couple hours of complaining to anyone who would listen, calling a couple repair places (fruitless, it being a holiday and all), searching for the manual (again, fruitless, because I'm a little disorganized), and turning the serger on and off about a dozen times hoping it would magically start working.

It didn't.

I did finally find the manual, and I think perhaps the safety trigger is ON (from opening up the machine to rethread) and won't turn OFF. The last time I used the machine it didn't have any problems, so I don't see how something could have actually broken or jammed. I'm going to try and figure out how to make that switch work properly and if I can't, I will give the repair shop another try tomorrow. There's only one left in town, so it could be a while before he can get me in, unfortunately.

In the meantime, I just HAD to finish these shorts for Anya, because if they fit, I can make her several more pairs very quickly (in theory, barring more equipment failure and all). I went ahead and finished the side seams by turning under the raw edges and stitching them down. It was one extra step, but didn't take too long, truthfully. The crotch seam still has raw edges but I figure she won't be wearing these for more than one summer anyway, so it's no big deal, really, even with inevitable wear and tear.

The good news is: they fit! And they are adorable! And she seems to like them:



The equipment required for knitting is a lot simpler, you know? At least you don't have to plug anything in.

bag bananza!

Last week was Stephanie's birthday. I broke my tradition of making her unusual socks. We dyed sock yarn together with Kool-Aid when I took the kids to see her and Eric in March, and I've been unloading stash yarn on her for a while. I guess I figured it was time for something a little different.

Our coop sells reusable produce bags. They are very simple drawstring bags made of very loosely woven cotton material, very light and breathable. You put your mushrooms and greens in these bags, the theory goes, and not only are you sparing your local landfill those flimsy plastic produce bags that can never be reused, there is the added advantage of your lovely veggies not turning to slime two days after you bring them home. I like the idea but the ones I've seen at our coop are kind of stupidly expensive. They are probably organic and all, but still. When I saw them, I thought, "I could make these in a flash! I'm not spending 7 bucks on a bag for bulk mushrooms."

That was, like, 3 years ago, and I never got around to it. But then I saw the same idea in the book Sewing Green when I was browsing in Borders a couple weeks ago, and it hit me that these bags would be really great gifts. At least, they would be really great gifts for eco-conscious people like Steph (and my parents and my in-laws and other relatives...y'all watch out - you might be next!)







Hopefully I can get a tutorial posted soon, so I'll save the details for that, but here's a quick run-down of materials I used:

1) flour sack towels (I got a pack of 6 from Target for $5.99. Each towel makes two fairly generously sized bags.)
2) thread, sewing machine
3) fabric paint, brushes, jumbo sponge stamps
4) something for a drawstring (I had grosgrain ribbon on hand, but any sort of thin ribbon or nylon cord would work.)
5) one helpful 3yo



Decoration is optional, of course, but as far as Daniel was concerned, the painting was the best part! I think he spent a solid hour in deep concentration painting the bags we sent to his "Aunt Teffnie." I wouldn't let him squirt the paint out of the bottles, but he dictated the colors (we ended up with a lot of brownish mixes) and I showed him how to brush the paint onto the sponge stamps and then press them on the bags. Sure, there are some smudges, but I think Steph likes them anyway.

Daniel was so gung-ho about painting bags, in fact, that he has asked to do it a couple times since we finished the first batch. Who am I to say no to a creative endeavor? The third time around, Anya wanted to participate. She's too little to handle fabric paint (her fingers still go in her mouth a lot), but I set her loose with some non-toxic watercolors. She only painted a few blotches on her legs and clothes!



Making these bags has turned into such a hit here that we'll be doing a bunch. Daniel has already designated the last several for his Grandma, his Oma, his Opa, and even one for Aunt Bonnie (Steph's mom). I hope he lets me keep a few!

owls for anya

It's shameful how little knitting I have done for Anya. I have a litany of excuses: she's got hand knit hand-me-downs from Daniel (I made everything fairly gender-neutral), my knitting friends knit her sweaters when she was born, her Oma bestows handknits upon her as any good knitting grandmother should. But of all the handknit sweaters she has received, little Anya has worn out or grown out of nearly all of them, so a couple months ago, I decided it was time to do something about that.



I had enough elann.com's Highland Chunky leftover from the A4A cardigan to make another child's sweater, and the Owls sweater pattern (I used the free one - scroll down) from Needled seemed like a good match. The free version of this pattern is adult-sized and uses bulky yarn. I followed the numbers for the smallest size using chunky gauge (4st=1") to make what I thought would be an Anya-sized sweater. As you can see, she's got some room to grow into it (she's got a knee-length dress on underneath!)



The sleeves took a couple tries. At first they were too skinny; I guess kids' arms are bigger than adults' in proportion to chest circumference. I also discovered that I don't like knitting sweaters in one piece from the bottom up because of how awkward those first couple yoke rounds are when you get near the armholes. (This isn't a problem with top-down sweaters.) I had everything on two circular needles until I was a couple inches into the yoke, and it was very cumbersome...still, the finished product was well worth the effort, don't you think?





The buttons are just plain old cheap things from Joann's. It took forever to sew them all on (17 owls, you do the math). In fact, the rest of the sweater was done and blocked and everything for a few weeks before I got around to it. But then Friday night Stu and I had lots of TV catching up to do (he was studying for a final all week), and even the final episode of Lost plus The Office weren't enough time to get it all done. My timing was perfect, though, because the next day was very chilly and Anya wore it for a photo shoot and a trip to the farmers' market (where she got tons of compliments.)

Pattern: Owls yoke sweater, free version, which I adapted for child's size
Yarn: elann.com Highland chunky in mocha cream, about 8 skeins
Mods: just the sizing, and I left out all the waist shaping, of course.
Made for: my daughter Anya

beer and knitting

Ann had it right when she captioned yesterday's picture: "how to be a happy mother of two toddlers." Me? I couldn't do it without beer and knitting. I'm not a big lush or anything, but there are days when that dinnertime beer and post-bedtime-TV-knitting get me through the evening without losing my mind. Since I live in Wisconsin, there is plenty of good beer and plenty of good yarn to be had.



What I'm holding there is a Black Wheat by New Glarus, a brewery only about 30 miles away from us. Stuart even biked there once (not to the brewery, but to a campground just down the road from it). I like Black Wheat, though it's a little malty for Stuart's taste.

So anyway, the Millefiori cardigan is completely and totally done and I am happy with it in every way. It fits stunningly, the yarn drapes beautifully, the clam stitch is cool (though a pain in the ass to execute), and even the buttons are classy.



This is not a great picture of me, but you can see the sweater pretty well:



Pattern: Millefiori cardigan from the Spring 2009 Interweave Knits.
Yarn: Elsbeth Lavold Bambool, a merino/bamboo mix. It's gorgeous, though slippery, so gauge was sort of a toss-up. I lucked out.
Mods: I left the clam stitch off the sleeves and worked them flat (the pattern calls for working the sleeves in the round). The pattern also calls for knitting on the buttons as you go; it was some convoluted process involving dental floss that I couldn't figure out. I didn't choose the buttons until I had finished everything else, so I just sewed them on later.

my heart just melted

I finish sewing buttons on my Millefiori cardigan. Anya is sleeping. Daniel is watching Wallace and Gromit and making a game of sticking his dirty, filthy feet in my face. Moment of truth: I take a deep breath and try on the new sweater one last time. "Look, Daniel, my sweater is finally finished!" I say. "Mom, look at you. You're beautiful," he grins.

No amount of compliments will make me trust him with the camera, though, so pictures will have to wait until Stuart gets home. Soon, soon.

ETA: Here's a little preview:

almost there

The finishing on my Millefiori cardigan has been painfully slow. There was lots of seaming, for one thing, especially since I elected to do the sleeves flat instead of in the round. Plus the button and buttonhole bands were worked vertically and sewn on to the fronts, so that made for some extra seaming. I haven't sewn on the buttons yet, so I'm not pronouncing it done quite yet.



Last night when I finally got the neckband done and button bands sewed up, I tried on the sweater. I dread that part of the process. What if something is wrong? What if the arms are too tight and the chest is too big and it balloons in the middle? Happily, the fit is perfect. Sadly, I think I somehow made the buttonhole band a little longer than the button band, so if the cardigan is open, it hangs lower on one side. If I fiddle with it and hold it shut (as if it were buttoned), it looks fine. But this sweater took forever and a day to complete, so I'm kind of mad that it isn't just perfect.

I'm not sure how that happened. I counted my rows painstakingly as I was knitting the body of the sweater so that everything would match up. But I didn't count the rows on the front bands, and that was probably a mistake. I sewed them on as I knitted, so I thought everything would be just dandy, but I think my imperfect seaming abilities are responsible for one being a little longer than the other. When you're doing mattress stitch on twisted rib with a selvedge, it's just hard to tell whether you're really doing it right. The yarn, Elsbeth Lavold Bambool, is really lovely and has a beautiful sheen and drape, but it's also a bit heavy, so any problem matching lengths is exaggerated by the drape of the yarn.

Gah. This is driving me just a little batty. I can't take it out and fix it. I just can't. Just thinking about it gives me a giant headache. I am going to sew on the buttons and hope it looks good when it's closed. If it doesn't...we won't even go there.This particular cardigan doesn't work worn open anyway - too floppy.

I think when I'm finally done with this sweater, I need to go back to some small, no-fail projects. Like socks.

how i learned to knit

She didn't make it a meme, but Dee Anna over at Pair of Ducks had some questions for the audience. Since I'm this close (*holds fingers about 2cm apart*) to finishing about four different projects and too lazy to take pictures before they're done, I thought I'd answer over here. I think I've told these stories before, probably more than once, but oh well.

1.) How did you learn to knit? When I was about 8, I enrolled in a knitting course at the 4-H Extension Center in my home town. My MOM was the teacher! You have to understand that when I was a kid, I did NOT LIKE to learn things from my mom. What did she know? (ha!) But for some reason I didn't mind her teaching me to knit. I suppose it had something to do with the fact that she was the teacher for a whole class, so to my young mind she wasn't just my mom. She was the teacher and therefore I didn't mind listening to her. Also, she was my ride home.

2.) Did you have a teacher or any outside guidance? See above. Knitting was a whole different game back in the 1980s when I was learning. There was no such thing as the interwebs with online tutorials and how-to videos. Not to mention the million and one "how-to-knit" books in print. Knitters now are much, much more empowered than they (we) were a couple decades ago, simply because information is available pretty much anywhere. Back then, you couldn't really learn unless someone showed you how.

3.) How was it in the beginning? Honestly, I don't remember how easy or difficult I thought it was. I wasn't the slowest learner in the bunch, but I don't remember how enthusiastic I was, either. I stuck with the 4-H classes for three or four years, though.

4.) How long did it take to learn to love knitting? I didn't looooove knitting until I was in grad school and found a knitting buddy named Autumn. We have much in common other than knitting, but early in our friendship she taught me how to knit socks. Until that point, knitting was something I had enjoyed on and off. As an adult, I made Stuart a horrible sweater he never wears (and I don't blame him) and my brother a beautiful gray cabled sweater that he probably never wears because it is 100% wool and he lives in Virginia. (My brother is 6'3". That sweater took a long time.) I had also made a few baby sweaters for expectant friends of mine. But it wasn't until Autumn showed me how to make socks that I discovered just how much I love to knit. Maybe it was the realization that you don't have to stick to a pattern, that your own intuition and experience can take you a long, long way; I felt like a door had been opened for me, and I ran right through and never looked back.

5.) What was your first project? Ah, the first project. It was neither a scarf nor a dishcloth, my friends. Nor was it a hat. No, no. As the rules of 4-H knitting dictated, my very first project was a pair of garter-stitch slippers with a pom-pom on the toes made out of bright yellow Red Heart acrylic yarn. They were every bit as awful as you can imagine. Since my mom retired from teaching high school, she's been volunteering again as a knitting instructor at the same Extension Center, and she tells me that the rules and guidelines for knitting classes have changed and opened up to allow much nicer projects. It's a good program.

6.) What do you wish you had made for a first project? Just about anything else. When I teach people to knit (which I have done from time to time), I usually start with a scarf in garter stitch or a hat in the round.