Ardrum Scarf

I finally worked up the courage to block the Ardrum Scarf.  I finished it about a month ago and it had been sitting in a drawer ever since, patiently awaiting further developments.  Well, yesterday its number went up.

Let me tell you, I was terrified when it came to plunging this fragile pile of yarn into water and manhandling it into shape.  All sorts of disaster scenarios flashed through my head.  What if it felts?  What if I break a thread?  What if, what if, what if?  You see, this was my first time ever blocking lace, or to be more precise, laceweight. 

Scared or not, I finally did it, got the scarf properly wet and commenced pinning.  Surprisingly, no major disaster occurred and the shawl is now drying up in all of its stretched glory.

You may have noticed that I changed my regular blocking arrangements.  Usually I pin the victim to the carpet in the only carpeted room in the house, but we are awaiting a visit from a certain young lady (she of the Poppy Girl fame) and the room in question happens to double as her playroom.  I may be ignorant when it comes to toddler care but I know enough not to set them free in an area full of pins.  I went for plan B, which was a spare mattress installed in the living room. 

Turned out that in my haste to prevent accidents involving someone else's child I completely ignored health and safety of my own dear dog.  Persuading the said dog that walking over a mattress full of pins is not a good idea proved impossible and I was feeling the first delicate inklings of frustrations, when my Other Half suggested a brilliant solution:

'Let's haul the mattress up on the dining table'.

Here it is, a visual proof of my brazen disregard of decor propriety (please ignore general crappiness of the picture).

The fact that my Other Half came up with this solution and that he doesn't mind at all also says a lot about him.  Envy me!

Pinning to a stripey mattress had one unexpected advantage - I had all my straight edges sorted out without even trying.

If you were wondering, the whitish string is my answer to blocking wires, because I don't own any.  In fact, the string worked so well that I can't see a reason why I should own them, ever.  Frugality and simplicity, that's the ticket (and we will NOT mention permanent insolvency at this point). 

The lace pattern is not very clear, for which I apologise.  The stripiness of the mattress is to blame here;  it occurred to me that inserting a blank page under the lace would make the design more visible, but the idea arrived after I pinned the whole thing and I didn't want to tempt the Fate too much.

To tell you the truth, the lack of clarity may not all be due to stripes.  I realised (with some horror) that I should've used larger needles.  Stretched to the utmost, the scarf will pass muster but only just.  My kind sister (who is the soon-to-be owner of the scarf) commented that invisible small-holed lace will contribute to the shawl's warmth-emitting qualities, but I admit I'm somewhat* disappointed.  It may not count as a Major Disaster, but it's definitely in the Could've Done Better category.  Lesson learned, and considering pain involved, it's probably remembered for life, too. 

I will probably take some live action pics of the scarf once I un-pin it, so stay tuned.  Also, I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but the pattern for this beauty is Ardrum Scarf by Aisling M Doonan.  The pattern is free, which is one more reason why you should knit your own.  Have fun! (And remember to use large enough needles...).

One more thing.  This...

...is the reason for naming my current WIP 'Amaryllis'.  The unnaturally short stalk is most likely due to my neglecting forgetting to water it for a considerable period of time.  Poor plant, it must have decided it's now or never. 

Amaryllis the sweater is coming along nicely.  I got to the armholes the other day, so I'm working back and forth now.  I also got a chance to try it on and *deep breath in* it looks like it's going to fit.  So far, at least.  Don't say it too loud, touch wood, perform any superstition you can think of so that the rest of the work is not jinxed beyond redemption.  Illustrated report to be published soon.


*somewhat?  I seriously considered ripping the whole thing up and re-knitting it

On the beauty of Christmas avoidance

The sun is shining in a fairly uninterrupted pattern, which is mind-blowing for Irish standards.  The weather is, in fact, so beautiful, that it tempted my Other Half out of our den and both himself and the Dog are off for a long walk.  It takes more than a few feeble December rays to drag me outside so instead I chose to stay warm and blog. 

The light is perfect for a photo shoot and I even have some prime snapping material - a package full of yarn arrived in mail yesterday (I love you, Mum!) and my stash grew by another sweater's worth.  Despite these obvious hints from Fate, I'm stubbornly ignoring my picture taking responsibilities, hoping instead that I can get away with offering you a random pic of my dog from the times when she was still a tiny puppy.

A ton of super-concentrated cuteness, wasn't she?  She's posing on one of my creations that REALLY deserves to be shown properly.  One day, I promise. 

I begin to worry that there are more dog pictures than yarn pictures here.  I am told that puppies are super popular in the Internetland so it might be OK.  Do let me know if I'm badly misguided and need to reform ASAP. 

I promised you a little elaboration on the non-existent Christmas theme, and even if I'm little late (I was supposed to post it yesterday, did anyone notice?), I'm going to deliver. 

In short - I don't bother with celebrating Christmas  (do you envy me now?  Pity me?  Feel outrage for my blatant disregard of cultural traditions?).  This means a couple of things:

1)  I enjoy blissfully stress-free Decembers

2)  I'm not broke in January (well, no more broke than usual)

3)  I sometimes need to fend off public Reactions to my heretical attitude

It's not that I have some deep grudge against the whole shebang, I just can't see any point in working my ass off to participate in something that's rather meaningless to me.  I'm not religious.  My family lives some 1500 km away.  I'm not very social (and come December, I am particularly grateful for this fact).  I don't have a standard 9 to 5 job.  I don't much care about doing things because everybody does. 

If I had children, things could be a little different.  I have tons of good childhood Christmas memories.  I got the presents, didn't have to go to school, got to eat all the food that someone else cooked, what's not to love?  If I ever stumble towards motherhood, I'll probably restart the tradition, just to produce the same memories for the sake of next generation. 

I the meantime?  I'm the only one who cooks around here, so I can eat Christmas fare any day I like.  I still get presents (yarn from Mum arriving just so in December would be too much of a coincidence, wouldn't it?).  My Other Half is even more intense in his Christmas bashing, having been scarred for life many years ago by annual pre-festive crazes - for the sake of distant relatives who thought it proper.  And come January, I'll be able to take all the money I didn't spent on lights, reindeer and other Yule crap and buy yarn.  Ha!

Heretic and proud!

PS.  Red aran sweater grew by another five statutory rounds since the last post.  It also got a name - Amaryllis - inspired by a beauty just a-flower on my window sill, exactly almost the colour of the yarn.  Today I'm wildly optimistic and I think I MIGHT avoid ripping by adding a couple of extra rows.  A Christmas miracle in coming?  Keep your fingers crossed with me.

Aran Red update

It seems that talking about a problem might be the first step towards a solution.  After pouring my heart out yesterday, I remembered a piece of equipment which I don't own, but have access to and after figuring out various boring technical details, I am reluctantly back in the photographic saddle.

This does not mean that I have learned to take good pictures or that I suddenly started to enjoy the process, but I can at least show you my progress on the red aran pullover.

It is currently growing at a supersonic rate of 2-3 rounds a day, which may be due to some or all of the following:

a) I'm still recovering from the recent bout of knitting block.  I don't get queasy at the very thought of knitting anymore, but the idea of spending a couple of hours with yarn still lacks the usual appeal.  Feels weird but there you go.

b) While I'm usually fairly confident in my designing abilities, I'm little uneasy about this whole 'I'll figure out details when I get there' attitude.  I'm getting dangerously close to the armholes, where I will have to start counting again and I'm not in much hurry to get there.  Hey, it's the dark time of the year, I am not at my sharpest and brightest. 

c) At this stage, the pullover starts looking dangerously short-ish.  I did swatch and measure etc., but swatches are notoriously fickle.  I have a bit over 30 cm now and only a few rows to go before dividing for armholes if I were to proceed as planned, but I'm more and more convinced that the plan will need serious adjustments.  It is remotely possible that a couple of extra rows will fix the problem (do you think I can count on my luck here?), but I rather suspect it's more complex than that.  You see, the design includes some significant waist shaping and I fear the stubborn shortness may mean that the skinniest part is not where it should be.  I sense some ripping in the air...  We'll see.  I'm not that eager to find out.  Maybe, if I give it enough time, it will fix itself?

I know I had one more excellent reason to take things slowly but for the life of me, I cannot remember what it was.  Obviously, it was extremely important and not a lie at all. 

The yarn is still gloriously red though, and even at my current astonishing speed I should finish the sweater before the winter ends, so all is good, right? 

One more pic for you, this one more truthful about the colour:

Sorry about the weird angle.  I'm only beginning to crack this photography thing. 

How are your Christmas preparations going?  Will I be the object of your envy if I tell you that mine are non-existent, because I cancelled Christmas this year? 

I'll tell you more tomorrow.

Oh, and I just remembered reason d) for knitting in bite size chunks.  Here it comes:

d) I lack any ambition whatsoever.  This, if you were wondering, is a 100% truth. 

Pictures, @&$%)^&# pictures!

I hate taking pictures, and this is a phrase I'm going to repeat at least a couple of times today.  I may have also mentioned this before, but the intensity of the feeling is such that with every single utterance of the above phrase, it feels brand new to me. 

I am also feeling rebellious (which, admittedly, happens often), so I'm going to celebrate this fact by producing an entirely pictureless post today.  Just try and stop me.

The war between camera and me goes far back.  I can count on my fingers the number of pictures that I actually look good on.  Fine, a career in modelling is not something I'm striving for so who cares.  But for this blog thing, I do need images, and lots of them, and my vocabulary fails me when I try to describe what a huge pain in the ass that is. 


Reason number one:  equipment.

You probably won't believe it easily in this tech-abundant age, but I hardly have anything that I could snap a picture with.  My camera is ancient and while I can force it to spit out an occasional good image, I am usually thwarted in my efforts by ever-depleted batteries.  I don't know how it happens, but this piece of junk seems to consume as much electricity as a fair sized village.  The blasted batteries drain even when I'm not using it at all.  Would you like to know the usual photo shoot script around here?  I hasten to oblige.  Here's me, with a brand new FO, wanting to take some pictures.  I reach for my trusty *hear me snigger* camera, and

Option A - the batteries are already gone, which means postponing the photo shoot by some 12 hours which in the real world means 'indefinitely'

Option B - I turn the thing on, I line the shot, snap three pics and watch my screen go dark.  See option A for further steps.

I am also one of the last few people on Earth who do not own a smartphone with a camera.  I am close to the breaking point and I will probably get one in some not-too-distant future*, but I'm not there yet. 


Reason number two:  I am a filthy person

Rejoice those of you whose houses are less than perfectly clean.  If you wonder whether your place is the filthiest spot in the world, stop.  Whatever mess you have on your hands, my mess is certainly bigger. 

99% of the time I am also blissfully not bothered by any of it.  Some people in my life are (you should just hear the lectures my Tidy Sister gives me from time to time) but luckily, I don't share a house with any of them.  My precious Other Half is wonderfully compatible with me in the mess department, so we're living happily ever after in our merry pigsty.  Just don't ask me how long ago my sheets were changed**.

So far so good, but when it comes to taking pictures...  Let's say I'm not too eager to broadcast my mess to the world and when I need some images, I have to either go outside or clean at least the part of the room that is going to be in the shot.  If you know anything about Irish weather, you will know that it hardly ever agrees to outdoor photo shoots and while sometimes I'm vigorous enough to tidy up, too often the combination of cleaning and fighting my camera proves too much for me and I simply give up. 

That, my dears, pretty much explains why my blog posts are so scarce.  Things may change from now on. 

You see, I used to think that a blog post is supposed to consist of many pictures and little text.  That's what all the 'experts' out there are advising, and knowing the media-rich environment we are living in, they are probably right.  Did I mention that I'm feeling rebellious today?  Screw the experts!  Writing comes to me much, much, MUCH easier than taking pictures.  Why on Earth should I torment myself when blogging can actually be pleasant?  If, as a consequence, Stitchsmart will not end up as The Greatest Blog There Ever Was, I can take it. 

I am strengthened in this resolution by a recent development that brings a lot of mirth to my grey existence nowadays.  You see, I've discovered Yarn Harlot.  I'm pretty sure I've stumbled upon her blog before, but for some inexplicable reasons I didn't linger.  The mistake rectified, I've been reading her archives for the last couple of days (yes!  All 10+ years of it!) and laughing myself silly in the process.  I love this woman!  If, by some unimaginable train of events, you haven't discovered Stephanie's chronicles yet, go there now!  You'll thank me later.

Anyway, I was pleasantly surprised how much pleasure reading her posts gave me.  'Reading' is the key word here.  Not that there are no pics in the Yarn Harlot world.  There are many, and nice ones too, but the blog is word rich and I loved it.  Loved it!  I can't say I forgot how I liked reading because that's impossible, but I did forget that blogs can be read as well as looked at.  The revelation of it!  Oh, the joy! 

So, here's some announcements.  I'm going to steer Stitchsmart in a slightly different direction from now on (and I only hope that my resolution holds and lack of pictures will not reveal itself as an excuse NOT to blog...).  I'm still going to fight the fights and try to get as many images as I can squeeze out of my dying camera, but I am also going to write more.  I may not torment you with long and pic-free posts (as today's) too often, but they will happen from time to time.  The whole re-vamping may result in more posts - I hope it counts as good news.  I will certainly result in this much happiness for me and for that alone it's worth it. 

Oh, if you're wondering about knitting...  Things are happening.  The Ardrum Scarf is finished (although unblocked) and I'm hoping like hell that the transformative powers of blocking on lace have not been exaggerated.  I may not have got back to my usual crafting frenzy, but (touch wood) the knitting block seems to be over and I'm back in business, halfway through the gloriously red aran sweater.  I've designed it up to the armpits, I'll figure out what to do next once I get there.  Not too long now...

I might even snap some pictures and post them here soon.


* As if I could afford it, hahahaha!

**  Seriously.  Don't.

In Defence of Acrylic Yarn

I have attempted this topic once before, for a different publishing platform, but I grew too heated in my arguments and the article was scrapped before publication.  I'll try to keep it polite this time, but I feel quite strongly about some aspects of the subject so please let me apologise in advance if I ruffle some feathers. 

From what I observed, for most of the knitting community 'acrylic' seems to be a dirty word.  Hardly any patterns specify acrylic yarn as suggested material (some baby knits excepted).  'Anything but acrylic' appears to be the obligatory answer when you're asked which yarn is your favourite.  In general, knitting with synthetic fibre is a crime akin to farting in a ballroom - you may not be jailed for it, but it's certainly not something that happens in a polite society. 

Well, I've always had a soft spot for the underdog and I have to confess that I'm often irked by such attitudes.  While acrylic does have some disadvantages, it also has many qualities that more than make up for it.  A knitting book (the title of which I cannot recall just now) once described it as 'low in snob value' and I think this explains perfectly why synthetics are shunned and also, perhaps, why I like them so much. 

Because, let me say it loud and proud, I love acrylic yarn!  Ok, maybe love is too strong a word but I certainly can see nothing wrong with it.  Some 80% of yarn in my stash is non-natural and I intend to keep it this way.  Why?  A couple of reasons.

1.  Ease of washing

This is the big one.  Since I tore my hands bloody many years ago in a washing machine-less student accommodation, I get pissed off when I even think of hand washing.  Why, then, would I want to keep on making clothes that can only be cleaned this way?  I throw my acrylic sweaters to the washing machine, spin the hell out of them and voila, the job is done.  By the way, did I mention that acrylic fibre dries really, really fast?  And doesn't felt?

2.  No need to block

I may not hate blocking, but I don't exactly love it, either.  Acrylic does not need blocking, just the opposite - heat blocking may destroy it.  Off the needles = ready to wear.

3.  Softness

Hair shirts may have been in vogue back in the medieval times, but we've moved on since then.  I can't think of any reason why I would want to spend time making a garment that I could not comfortably wear afterwards.  Obviously, you can have soft natural fibres - fair play there - but I've seen wools that I would not dress my worst enemy in.  So what if it's natural when it's also unwearable?  Acrylics - especially baby acrylics - are almost universally soft and smooth.

4.  Price

I am very against turning knitting into budget-breaking, elite hobby.  Let's be frank - natural fibres are waaaaaaaay more expensive than acrylics.  Sure, I get that hand dying and spinning are work intensive, time consuming crafts.  I'm happy for those who manage to stay afloat in the business and I wish them many loaded, snobbish clients.  In the meantime, can I have my yarn with low price tag, please? 

I could probably think of a few more arguments in defense of the humble acrylic, but this post is already too wordy for comfort.  I hope I managed to convince you that synthetics are not quite as bad as the rumour would have it. 

If you disagree, feel free to voice off in the comments.