Knitting on Impulse

2010

It starts tomorrow. 

I'm not exactly sure what to say about 2009. It has, in many ways, been extraordinarily successful: the business is finally showing signs of genuinely being able to support us, and my daughter has a wonderful teacher whose approach has allowed her to blossom in ways I feared the system would permanently squelch. It has also been a runaway train that focused the stressors of the last nine years like a magnifying glass under the sun, gathered momentum in exponential fashion over the last two months, and left me clinging by my fingernails to the edge of a very black pit.

I had (and have) developed a strategy to ultimately bring the workload under control and fulfill my overwhelming responsibilities in sustainable fashion: goals, lists, constantly improving efficiencies, time management, streamlining, prioritizing, regular slots for assessing, tweaking, reassessing. Contingencies, slush time, and back-ups upon back-ups to buffer the "manana" nature of my in-house support systems. It is genuinely good stuff, and excellent progress was made in getting non-negotiable survival needs into a stable and consistent groove. Unfortunately, I didn't get to the self-care stage of The Plan (really - insertion of a self-care slot into the schedule was slated to begin as soon as the kids went back to school next week) before the physical and emotional reserves gave out.

The bigger goals are still valid, the framework is made and ready to be fleshed out in the next interval of clarity, but the only resolution I can clearly articulate right now is to find a space of calm and a spark of pleasure in this present moment. Only that. Only now.

Nineteen

Productivity

Want to see my new office?

It finally occurred to me that my ridiculously slow pace of pattern writing (aka downright avoidance) might have more to do with my work environment than a stubborn character flaw. One of the most useful areas of introspection I've been doing of late is to ferret out the many variations on my ingrained assumption that all difficulties with Getting Stuff Done are due to a lack of Discipline and Trying Harder. Powering through the pain is an undeniably useful skill to have in one's hip pocket for times of disaster or extreme need, but it isn't a particularly sustainable tactic for daily living. (I had a good 20 year run at it - still feeling the effects.)

Anyway, I discovered yesterday that my wee laptop and I can be rather astonishingly focused and productive at a quiet library desk, especially when it abuts a picture window overlooking a soothing winter wonderland. And thanks to Microsoft's new live workspaces thing, I don't even have to haul around flash drives or buy a huge whack of new software. The internet connection at the library is free, and just slow enough that it doesn't impede work, but makes impulsive email / Twitter / Ravelry checking impractical. There's no piles of laundry mocking me, no heaps of toys or dirty dishes in sight, no one who wants to tell me "just one thing" at a critical conceptual moment.  Perfect.

So... I'm currently hard at work on the earflap hat, and after that the sampler shawl, and after that, some of the many long overdue designs like Little Knight... the possibilities are limitless! I likely sound a little over the top, considering the obviousness (in retrospect) of the solution, but with our wee space and limited resources, the tiniest increments of efficiency generally take great care and planning to implement. A big improvement that shows up all at once feels like Christmas!

Speaking of Christmas, this is the last week of school before the two week holiday, and I've been dyeing up a storm of new colourways... which means that I can put away the dyepots and hang out with the kids for that time, but still put up new yarn each week. We'll be home, so shipping will continue per normal (taking into account delays for holiday post office closures.) I think they'll be Wednesday updates though, as I don't fancy doing it on Christmas and New Year's Eves!

Nearly Holly

Otherise known as Oregon Grape (which doesn't sound at all Christmasy), the leaves are very holly-like, and give me the same festive feeling, which is fortuitous, since true holly doesn't grow in our mountain climate. I did a version of this last year, but I've updated my technique, and I think I like this effect better (plus it is considerably easier to repeat.) I love the way red and green blend in places to create shades of warm glowing brown that soften the high contrast of the original hues.  The effect is very reminiscent of a tartan, which given my Stewart ancestry, may explain the particular personal appeal.  It makes me think of snowy days tramping the hills with a hound at my heels, returning to a roaring fire and a mug of mulled wine.

 
Mere Sock:

Summit Sock:

Blissful Sock:

Merely Worsted (the new merino/cashmere worsted wt):

 

Port

One of the things I let slide over the last few weeks of introspective hermitude was blogging the new colourways and inspirations.  And there were a few along the way that I'm rather fond of, so I thought perhaps I'd catch up.

Port has a special place in my heart.  Not only is it delicious, but having been privileged to attend a number of Air Force mess dinners with hubby, it is associated in my mind with tradition, ceremony, honour, the toast to the Queen, history, and continuity.

Plus it's really pretty.

The yarn I created has a similar intensity to the Cherry, but whereas the Cherry devolves to low notes of purple and black, Port is kissed with tawny gold.

Merino Whisper:

Summit Sock:

Blissful Sock:

Mere Sock:

 
Essential Merino Lace:

Just the thing for sipping by firelight on a snowy December evening, no? 

So I had this idea...

and I ran with it, because I didn't want it to get away.  Fingering weight sampler packs with 60 yards each of summit sock, mere sock, blissful sock, merino silk, bluefaced bliss, and merino fingering, for a total of 360 yards.  And then I sat right down and started doodling up a mini-shawl pattern, which will for sure not be ready to print by the time the samplers ship, but will be sent out by PDF once it's ready:

 

(There's also some of the regular sampler snack packs available in this week's update.)

As for other stuff, the brain fog is starting to clear (and along with it, the horrid tension headache that has been my constant companion for weeks). The essentials of daily life are firmly in hand and newly buffered against disruptors, and I'm starting to have energy to recapture the myriad of other things I've let slide, like - oh - blogging. Answering comments. I gave myself permission to be a hermit for the last six weeks - both in "real" life and online (though I think my online life may well be the more real of the two) and I have truly appreciated your forbearance. Personal re-invention takes a lot of focus and energy and this time I really didn't want to brush off the frustration and disappointment until "next time" and slip back into the comfortable rut of self-delusion - I needed to take on the task of creating my own peace of mind, my own safety net and making it real, making it stick.  It is an ongoing process, but I am feeling so much better.

Fudged For the Win!

Not fudged exactly, because I was actually on precisely the right track, I just forgot.  (It's the way my brain rolls these days - the subconscious doggedly getting on with things, while the conscious bit bumps around fretfully, wondering if this interminable headache will ever subside long enough to pursue a coherent train of thought.) After some consideration, I opted to add a completely new design feature all around the edge of the hat... and I think it looks great and fits exactly as I had hoped.

 
One great possibility of earflap hats is the ability to create a sort of cocoon around the head and cheeks without relying on elastic tension across the ears and forehead (the source of so many complaints of "itch") to keep it in place.  This is best accomplished by having zero to slightly positive ease in the initial iteration of the brim, then reducing the number of stitches a bit when knitting the all-around border. 

It could have used a bit of blocking to straighten out the garter stitch cross on the crown, but the necessary work surface was covered in gingerbread cookies and pots of icing, so it will have to wait.

I did take careful notes as I knit, except for the border, which I was rather winging as I went along, but since the girl child has ordered an identical hat in pink, I'll take notes on the border next time with an eye to publishing the design.

Yarn: Merino /Cashmere / Nylon in worsted weight - most of a 110 gm skein in Blueberry Skies. Every bit as lovely as you'd expect, and coming to the webstore as soon as I get the new category page sorted and a little more selection dyed up.

To Rip or to Fudge?

Another collaborative design, this time for/with my son, who hates hats as a rule, but had to admit that his ears have been frosty of late. It has a bit of a medieval military flavour, but in lieu of steel, Mr. Sensitive chose a merino-cashmere blend (same stuff as the Mere Socks, but in a 4 ply worsted weight - it will be showing up in the next update, which, while we're on the subject, will be Friday.) The light was fading, and his fearless companion was less than interested in sitting still, but you get the general idea:

 
I got it Mostly Right.  Graphic elements: quite satisfactory. Circumference: zero to slightly positive ease, because he hates things snug to his head. Problem: not quite deep enough. If I rip back to the beginning of the crown and decrease less rapidly, it will be deeper, but the lower edge will probably  have too much ease, once it's pushed down by an inch or so.  If I pick up stitches all around the bottom and add a garter stitch border, snugging it in slightly as I go, it would solve the fit issue nicely but might look like a hack job. If I rip it all the way out and completely redo the design, the boy will have cold ears for some time because last night's stolen moments of Just For Fun knitting time won't come around again for a while. 

Eowyn's fairly certain she doesn't want it, anyway.

How many yards in an egg?

DD to DS: "If an ostrich laid an egg on the roof, which side would it roll down?" (her version of the old "if a rooster laid an egg..." brain teaser).

DS: (knows the rooster version) "Ha! Ostriches don't lay eggs!"

DD: "Of course they do, silly, guess again."

DS:  ".............that side?"

DD: (triumphantly) "No! Ostriches can't fly - it would never make it up to the roof! Your turn."

DS: (looking smug) "Which side of our condo has more boxes?"

DD: "That's easy - all sides are equally crammed with boxes, because Mom keeps ordering yarn."

DS: (sighs) "You're right."

Topology

 

Last night, I did (with some misgivings about all I could/should have been doing instead) a completely self-indulgent thing and attended a math lecture given at the local library by a professor from Quest University. 

It was titled "The Shape of the Universe?" and was primarily an introduction to topology for the layperson, in an "imagine what you would see if..." sort of format. It was very basic, but served to penetrate the fog of laundry and bills and sibling squabbles, and nudge a passion that long predates the kids, goes all the way back to the fork in the road when I bade farewell to the infinite possibilities in the non-premed parts of the University calendar and set my feet on the path of altruism. (Twenty-two years later, I am slowly coming around to the realization that following my natural aptitudes would not necessarily have been selfish or indulgent.)

In my dream world, I would go back to university and study a mixture of math, physics, music, philosophy, and textiles - pursuing the truth of the universe with the purest tools of inquiry: logic, harmony, and wool. (Also I would attend a dream school, wherein my explorations would be subject to scrutiny by persons wiser than I, who would relentlessly push me to dig deeper, aim higher, think more rigorously... but I'd skip the whole soul sucking business of test taking and grade ranking. It would be a journey propelled by my own passion, not a tick in anybody else's approval box. And as long as we're dreaming, this imaginary school would be inexpensive, and have a completely flexible timeline.)

The topic of the lecture itself was also oddly resonant, because mapping the topology of my personal universe is really what I've been doing for the last while. Plummeting down one too many "invisible" crevaces and sitting down at last to make my own map, collect my own data, make my own calculations. It's amazing how long we can spend attempting to make sense of a topology dictacted to us by the beliefs of others, or assumed based on our own faulty information and wishful thinking... only to wind up repeatedly shocked, disappointed, let down, resentful. Whether my personal universe ought to have the shape it does is, right now, irrelevant. The more urgent need is to create an accurate map for navigation, and eventually, to search for the underlying principles and formulae that have generated its shape. Only then, can possibility emerge from chaos.