What Have I Been Up To?

I had to empty out my backpack in order to find a cord for my iPod and realized how representative of my life the pile of junk on my table actually was. School has been dominating the schedule as of late - I've been trying to fit in the knitting where I can, but it's been slim. The Lizard Ridge blanket square is ready to be cast off - always a good thing. If only I could read around to actually finding time to do it.

A Sleepy Man Walks Into His LYS...

I knew I shouldn't have stopped at the yarn store on the way home from school this afternoon, but I couldn't help it. My local yarn store, In a Yarn Basket, is celebrating a year of being in business. I, coincidently, am celebrating a year of being a knitter and thought I would be nice to myself and buy two more skeins of Noro for the Lizard Ridge.

Note to self: do not go to the yarn store when sleepy. I had lost two days at the beginning of the week to a head cold and had managed to still complete everything I needed to get done, but by the time the symposium I organized had finished this afternoon, I was exhausted again. Sleepiness + piles and piles of lovely, lovely yarn = Me, walking out of the store looking like a drug addict who had just gotten his fix. Not only did I walk out with the two skeins of Noro but also with six skeins of Cascade 220, the fixings for more Fiddlehead mittens.

I feel a little guilty: I had promised myself I would not buy more yarn until I had worked through a good portion of the yarn I already own. Must use the stash. However, I realized, all the yarn purchased today has a purpose, patterns already attached to them. I'm buying early holiday presents that will, eventually, get knit up. I'm buying entertainment on the random night I do actually have free. Rob from Threadbear had a post a day or two ago that got me thinking about the economics of knitting, particularly about the price knitters pay to create the garments and projects we make. True, it may cost more to make socks than actually buying socks, but there's something about the act of actually creating something with one's own hands that cannot be duplicated. The act of knitting, much like the act of writing, feeds me.

Walking out of the yarn store this evening, yarn in hand, I hoped for a similar scene a year from now: In a Yarn Basket's second anniversary. In a time of economic turbulence, local businesses need thoughtful support from community members. A few things I'm trying to do in my own yarn (and general product consumption):

• I try to pay with cash, particularly if I am shopping at a LYS. Credit and debit cards carry a small transaction fee with them that I would rather help my LYS avoid if possible. Every once in a while, I don't have cash and they happily accept my little plastic card; it's just something I try to keep in the back of my head.
  
• I try to limit my online yarn shopping. Chances are, aside from the lovely offerings on etsy.com, my LYS can order any yarn my little heart desires. I might as well order it through them since it tends to equal out after shipping and handling.
  
• I try remember to bring my own bag. Bags, like everything else, cost money and I own enough of them that I can easily bring one with me when I visit the LYS. It's better for the environment, helps the LYS conserve resources, and helps keep my closet clear of excess bags. (Side note: If you're ever in Bloomington, In a Yarn Basket has great bags. Seriously great bags.)

It will be a while until I need more yarn: the skeins purchased this afternoon join an over-flowing bin of wool that will soon become mittens, blankets and, maybe, even a sweater. When it's time to purchase yarn for a new project, however, I will be thoughtful about how I go about it. Long live the LYS.

Done with Entrelac!

I, somehow, managed to find the time to finish the Entrelac scarf I started back in December last weekend, blocking it this week. I am overly thrilled with how lovely this scarf turned out - yes, it took a while, and the eight stitch back-and-forth got a little old around skein three, but the end project, as modeled by the lovely Anne of my Thursday night knitting group, is gorgeous. And long. Long scarves are always good things.

The pattern comes from Freckles and Pearls and used four balls of Plymouth Yarn's Boku in colorway 12. I love the colorway - the self-striping yarn provides the basket weave pattern definition and really pops after being washed and blocked. It was also surprisingly soft once washed. I let the scarf soak for about twenty minutes in Brown's Top of the Sheep Shampoo before blocking and it came out silky soft.

What I didn't love about the yarn were the several breaks I experienced while knitting - the Boku would literally break while in the middle of picking up stitches or knitting through a row. Luckily, these tended to be in spaces in the pattern where I could easily fix the issue. I read that Noro's Silk Garden (with a similar composition to Boku) is less prone to break, but I can't help but be attracted to the pricetag of Boku. It sells for $6 a skein at my local LYS while Silk Garden normally runs $10+. I used four skeins (could probably get away with three), which sets the price point for this project at $24 versus $40+.

I remember now why I stopped knitting people scarves for holiday gifts around August: they simply take too long, but this entrelac scarf was definitely worth it. It's all packed up and ready to be mailed out, which officially ends my holiday 2008 knitting. Better late than never, right?

Fiber Voyeur: The Yarn Garden

Despite a growing pile of academic reading I should have been delving into, I started Kate Jacobs' Knit Two last night, her sequel to The Friday Night Knitting Club, revisiting the familiar characters and yarn-filled space of Walker and Daughter. Forty pages in, it's similar to that first novel: light reading peppered with characters I can't help but want to know and knit with. The novel picks up five years after the conclusion of The Friday Night Knitting Club and the circumstances the characters find themselves are not the only things to have changed. The very walls of Walker and Daughter have changed as well, which is a little hard to bear but totally expected. Five years have passed, it is only natural the store, so integral to the book and characters within it, should change as well. What makes it so difficult is Walker and Daughter is the store we all wish we gathered at on knit nights with friends - it embodies everything one could possibly want in a great yarn store: experienced, energetic service, a lovely selection of fiber, and space to sit, talk, and work the needles for a while.

The closest I've ever come to Walker and Daughter is the lovely Yarn Garden, located in Charlotte, Michigan. Charlotte is a small bedroom community outside of Lansing that continues to host small-town events like Frontier Days, always held the weekend after Labor Day, and has a small, yet sustainable downtown. The Yarn Garden is in an old building off a side street downtown, facing their historic courthouse. The facade is merely a hint at the personality awaiting inside the heavy, old wooden double doors.

The Yarn Garden is a cozy space but the soaring ceilings, low shelves packed with yarn, and staging make it a delight. Lindsay Harmon, the owner of the Yarn Garden and blogger over at Yarn Gnome, loves knitting and her selections in stock show. On the shelves, you will find classic yarns, Cascade 220 and Berroco, along with some lovely surprises, like Yak. It is a thoughtfully laid out space, with carefully selected yarns and brilliant ideas to go with them.

I happened to spend a day at the shop last weekend, taking a mitten class. The back of the shop has space for classes, a long table right next to the sale bins, which I think was strategic as I walked out of the shop with three skeins of yarn, totally destroying my goal of no yarn unless there is a project in mind. But when you see it, you gotta grab it, you know? The instructor for the class, Janeen Licatovich, designed a mitten called the Cathedral Window Mitten. I saw a sample of it when visiting the store last fall and was excited to get to finally take the class. Janeen teaches several classes at The Yarn Garden and her colorwork is amazing. I fumble through my colorwork projects with the hope I will, one day, be as good as she is. Anyway, I learned how to make the mitten, which is sitting in a basket next to my bed, having not been touched since. Grad school is definitely getting in the way of my knitting time.

I like to think of The Yarn Garden as something of a local yarn store away from my local yarn store. There's always plenty to look at, a delightful mix of standard yarns with specialty yarns, and great people.

It's the template upon which I build Walker and Daughter in my mind while reading: exposed brick walls, store samples that make me wish I had more skill, and lovely, lovely yarns just waiting to be made into something. Also: if you get a chance to visit (and I highly recommend you do), be sure to pet Noro, the shop pup, but don't bring any treats. He's on a diet.

What is the Role of the Netbook in Education?

An article in this morning's NYT ("$200 Laptop Breaks a Business Model") got me thinking about technology and education, especially within the frame of the recession. With the economic climate as it is, school systems are going to have to get creative with technology, especially as they continue to strive to prepare learners who can engage in "multiple literacies, including digital, visual, textual, and technological, [which] have now joined information literacy as crucial skills for this century" (ALA, 2007). The netbook, a stripped-down version of the laptop utilizing solid-state hard drives, is usually equipped with Linux, a free operating system, and open-source software, such as Open Office. Some netbooks take advantage of email and online document services from the likes of Google, computing done "in the cloud." The key element here is price: you can buy a netbook for $200 and have the basic productivity software (word processor, presentation software, spreadsheets) for next to nothing. What makes this so interesting is the speed with which schools will adopt and utilize these technologies, if they will will at all. With shrinking technology budgets, will funding be allotted to existing machines or to these new, smaller versions? Who will provide training for educators to engage in these technologies and how will they be incorporated into teacher preparation programs?

Come the Snowy Weather

It's sort of snowing here in southern Indiana - sort of meaning something along the lines of it snowed last night, covering the ground in a lovely blanket of white, but the snow has since changed to a sleety substance. Regardless of the way precipitation manifests itself, it is cold, perfect weather for staying inside and knitting. Unfortunately, I'm inside but not knitting. I haven't been knitting a ton since the holiday rush, finishing those last few gifts before the big day. Too much going on, especially with the start of classes. Hopefully the insanity will die down a bit and I'll have a little more time to work with some needles and yarn soon.

I have not been totally abstinent, yarn-wise, and started on my Lizard Ridge (Ravelry link). What a delightful pattern! I wanted something quick and easy and this was definitely just the ticket. The blocks knit up quickly and I've managed to get three blocks from two balls of the same Noro Kureyon colorway. Thrifty (somewhat) and a great project for the small moments I've had to knit in the past few weeks. I'm up to seven blocks - only twenty-three to go.

The block of Noro 170, which were surprisingly different to one another. I found the key to be knit the blocks using two balls of yarn, knitting from the inside of one and the outside of another. It allowed for greater contrast, although the top block (heavy on the greens and oranges) was a fluke.

These blocks are from a ball of 185 and are my favorites thus far. I love the way the colors work together and how the blocks are similar to one another yet distinct - a much better illustration of the method behind my two-ball approach to knitting these.

The lone block made of 213. I like the watery feel of this colorway and am interested in how the other blocks will knit up. As I look at them in a pile on my desk, I'm excited to get them all finished so I can see how they fit together. Perhaps knitting time this weekend, part of which will be spent weaving in all these ends?

What's an Audit Trail?

I recently read an article by Jerry Harste and Vivan Vasquez from a 1998 issue of Language Arts entitled "The Work We Do: Journal as Audit Trail." In the article, Harste and Vasquez analyzed the hardbound notebooks Harste jotted and drew ideas into as a roadmap of his work as a researcher and teacher educator. They called this the Audit Trail, defined by Wikipedia as a "chronological sequence of audit records, each of which contains evidence directly pertaining to and resulting from the execution of a business process or system function." It's a pretty powerful idea and one I am still attempting to fully wrap my head around, accounting for the various ways our ideas are impacted by the material we read, the experiences we have, and the baggage we carry around. It makes for an interesting ledger of how ideas are added to, changed, tweaked, and a possible tool for me to more fully to understand my own thinking and how it is changing. This is my attempt at creating an audit trail, making myself accountable for my ideas.

Preparing to Leave

I'm a little confused about the difference between fair isle, color work, and stranding. Are these all words for the same thing or are there subtle differences that define each practice?

Regardless, this is a photo (a bad photo, but a photo all the same) of my first fair isle/color work/stranding piece. This is the Leaping Stag hat from Nordic Heart Designs. I was looking for a hat for my stepdad and, being the hunter he is, thought this would be perfect. The hat was knit up in the course of about four weeks although I can honestly say I didn't spend a ton of time knitting at any one time. This is the piece I worked a row here and there as the end of the semester allowed. It could probably be finished in a fraction of the time if deliberate time were spent on it.

I loved the colors - it's knit up in Cascade 220 Superwash, colors straw and maroon - and matches a scarf his girlfriend brought back from Scotland for him this fall. I wish I had checked my gauge as I knit the piece - when I knit my swatch, it was perfect, but the hat itself is just a smidge too big. I used sevens but would probably change to a set of sixes the next time I make this pattern. Also: blocking this item was tricky... it's still not perfect, but it's something else to experiment with. Overall, a lovely pattern and a great first-time knit in this style.

Claire Boissevain-Crooke, the mind behind Nordic Heart Designs, has lots of lovely patterns for great hats. Unfortunately, her website isn't up yet but can be seen via Bloomington's Yarns Unlimited site here. I have a little crush on her Nordic Star pattern. I can definitely see one of those in my 2009.

How lovely it has been to lounge about! I'm unsure I've ever had such a semester as this past fall semester and am more than thrilled for it to officially be over. My break, thus far, has consisted of much visiting, even more laughing, and more eating than should be allowed. And there's knitting. Always with the knitting.

I'm still knitting holiday presents, actually. My friend Joanna and I have a holiday tradition: we don't celebrate until February. This is usually because she is working on something lovely and homemade while I shopped around for the perfect book for her. This year, it's because she's having a baby and I'm knitting. Her scarf, an entrelac pattern done in Boku yarn, is a bit more along than the picture, taken before finals week when I still had spare moments to knit, and is turning out really nicely. Entrelac knitting is really great for those yarns that self stripe, like Boky and its more expensive cousin Noro, and is a great pick-up, put-down project. For this particular pattern, you're only working eight stitches at a time, making it easy to work on it for fifteen or so minutes, put it down, and return to it later marveling at how much progress you've made. It took me a little bit to figure out how the actual knitting works but find myself zooming through it now. I did happen upon a tutoral on entrelac knitting, in case you're curious.

This is the last of the holiday presents, thankfully. The majority of my knitted tidings have been passed out to happy (and hopefully warm) friends and family. I can, perhaps, begin working on a project or two for myself. Up for my 2009 knitting: the Lizard Ridge blanket and a new pair of mittens.

Now, however, it is time for me to go to bed.

Fiber Voyeur: Knitting Off Broadway

I just got back from a quick jaunt to Michigan to celebrate the holidays early with my aunt and uncle before they leave for Arizona. By celebrate, I mean I spent the weekend in their kitchen near their wood stove working on my laptop. Oh, finals, how I will be thrilled for you to be done.

When I drove home yesterday, I realized most of the local yarn stores on my route would be closed - Sundays tend to be a bad day to run out of yarn - but remembered I had visited the lovely Knitting Off Broadway on my way home from Thanksgiving a few weeks ago. This deceptively small shop is located in Indiana's second-largest city, Fort Wayne, and features a lovely selection of yarn, both artisan and pragmatic. I say deceptively small because the space itself is tiny but Jan Bell and her daughter Natalie cram an insane amount of yarn into the space, filling openings and shelves with worsteds, chunkies, and sock yarns galore. (Special emphasis on the sock yarns - it's like a sock yarn mecca!)


This is a store that is meant to be enjoyed. The space is light and airy, filled with wonderful fibers but not overwhelming. Perhaps the most enjoyable element of the store is the staff. When I happened to stop in, both Jan and Natalie were in the store and were both absolutely lovely. Knitting Off Broadway is one of those stores I would feel comfortable walking into, cozying into a chair, and knitting for the rest of the afternoon, not something that can be said for every LYS out there. Sadly, I had just shopped at my own LYS in Bloomington before leaving for the holiday so my yarn needs were few. That didn't stop me, however, from walking out with a ball of chunky Rowan in the most interesting shade of blue - somewhere between a seafoam and sky blue. Felt amazing and made a great cable hat for holiday giving. (They have a great basket of last skeins at cut prices - perfect for small projects!)


Knitting Off Broadway is a nice surprise: helpful staff, dedicated owners, and a really great selection of yarn. When talking to Jan about her yarn selection, she replied that Natalie only ordered yarn she truly loved and that was so apparent: the feel and colors of the yarn was lush and deliberate. Every yarn had been chosen for a particular reason, placed in a particular spot. This is a yarn store where they truly care about the craft of knitting, fostering community amongst knitters, and providing high quality yarns to knitters.

When I left my one and only knitting class ten months ago, I felt strangely energized. In my hands, I held my Brittany needles, size eight, and a small square of gray scarf in garter stitch. The stitches were uneven, stitches had been picked up giving it an odd trapezoid shape, but it was, in all of its ugly beauty, mine.

The creation of something solid was refreshing. Entering my second semester of doctoral study, I had almost forgotten what it meant to create something physical. My creative energies were spent writing, making sense of ideas and fleshing out those of my own. Writing is as important as breathing but I missed creating things corporeal. I resolved, as I walked back to my car that February morning, to knit something for everyone on my holiday list. This resolution, with the holidays a not-so-distant memory, made sense in February. With Christmas currently right around the corner, it no longer seems like such a brilliant idea.

In the course of ten months, I've knit scarves, pairs of mittens, hats, and a single sock that has yet to have a mate. These gifts, soon to be sent out to loved friends and family, were spread out on my living room floor earlier this evening to be sorted into piles. These would go with me to Michigan. These would stay in Indiana. This would need to be mailed. These belonged in Wisconsin. These garments were a physical cartography of my knitting education: the scarf I first learned how to stripe, the mittens I first figured out color work, the very first hat I knit in the round. Each project has taught me something new about the craft, which makes total sense in light of my friendships.

Each friend has taught me something about how to be a good person in the world. It is only fitting that I give them a garment (albeit a small garment) that has taught me about moving string and needles to create something resembling beautiful. I have always struggled with the holiday season; it seems to have become simply a marketing machine with people trampling other people in Wal-Mart the day after Thanksgiving and exchanging gifts with close to no thought put into them. Knitting has reinforced my holiday spirit. When my friends and family open their presents, I hope they know how much I thought of them as I selected yarns, manipulated my needles, and wrapped their garment ever-so-carefully in brightly colored papers.

I will not be knitting for everyone on my list next year, though. After ten months of insane knitting, it will be nice to relax a bit. Perhaps I'll even cast on a square for a Lizard Ridge.

Here It Goes Again

It snowed yesterday. After last winter, I wasn't expecting snowfall this early in southern Indiana yet woke up to light, fluffy flakes drifting down outside my window. There's nothing like snow, especially around this time of year. It reminds me to slow down, to really be thoughtful about what I'm doing. In the middle of finishing coursework and attempting to tie up loose ends before the semester concludes, it was a welcome reminder to breathe, to take stock.

I've missed blogging. In the past, I blogged frequently, mostly about teaching elementary school and then the application to graduate school and then my blogging habits took a backseat to all the insanity that is the actual graduate school experience. I miss it. So here I am. Starting it over again. Yet another Neurotic Knitter starting their own little place on the Internet. Despite the title, I'm unsure this will be solely a knitting blog - how many of us are solely knitters and nothing more? - but a place to dump my thoughts about the goings-on of the world, what's currently gracing my iPod, the books that find their way onto my night stand, and my attempts to figure out what I am doing with my life. Of course there will be knitting, but there may be other things as well. You've been warned.