wednesday's poems

here are some knitting poems (haikus?  kinda...) that i found

Knitting 

by Theresa Ann Moore

Knitting needles sing

Connecting soft looping notes

Compose sweater song

Sitting and Knitting

by Pisapia Gina

Sitting and knitting

allured by its yellow hue

bees sit beside me.

when in doubt, bsj

i was looking through my flickr account the other day and realized that there is always one knitting pattern that i can count on:  elizabeth zimmermann's baby surprise jacket.

now, of course, i shouldn't make this sounds like some big revelation, because it's no news at all that i have made this pattern so many times i can probably do it in my sleep.  it is also no news at all that i've taught this pattern so many times, i could probably walk someone through it in my sleep.  BUT, no matter how familiar i am with the pattern, it still amazes me every time!

After knitting the pattern, you end up with this floppy looking square type of thing.  

Then you just fold it up and it becomes this darling little sweater!

and FINALLY:  sew on some buttons and you are done!

some other pretty neat-o things about this pattern are (1) you can use the same pattern for a wide range of yarns:  fingering, dk, or worsted.  its the same pattern no matter what, you just get a different size sweater!  (2) in anticipation of a mystery baby, you can pick a gender-neutral color and you make button holes on both sides of the sweater, so when the baby is born, you can pick some buttons, sew them on the correct side (buttons go on the right for girls, buttons go on the left for boys)* (3) the entire thing is done in garter stitch!  no purling!  and (4) once you get the hang of ms. zimmermann's minimalist pattern-writing style, this is quick, quick, quick!

here are some more BSJs for your viewing pleasure:

and one more!

*don't ask me why, i don't make this stuff up.  if you are an anarchist, feel free to f*** it and put your buttons wherever you damn well please.  

footprints

i just finished (well, last week) the most magical and lovely socks.  have you tried knitting a personal footprint a la Cat Bordhi?

here are my very own personal footprints and they fit like a glove!  or, well, er, a footprint, actually...

this is a quite brilliant way to knit socks.  you start at the toe, increase until it is wide enough for your very own foot, knit straight, increasing as needed to fit your instep, knit straight again,  all the way until you're ready to start decreasing for the heel, which is a basically just the same as the toe (in reverse!).

along the way you make a nifty notation with some scrap yarn:

and THEN, both bravely and magically, you get out your scissors, cut that little marked row open, hold your breath, catch those stitches on your needles, and knit up a leg!  voi la!  socks:

twisted +

(Noro Silk Garden)
Originally uploaded by myriadlane

my most favoritest and beloved local yarn shop now has an online store! check it out!

as if you needed another excuse to buy yarn.

wednesday's poems

Another Westminster Bridge 

by Alice Oswald

go and glimpse the lovely inattentive water

discarding the gaze of many a bored street walker

where the weather trespasses into strip-lit offices

through tiny windows into tiny thoughts and authorities

and the soft beseeching tapping of typewriters

take hold of a breath-width instant, stare

at water which is already elsewhere

in a scrapwork of flashes and glittery flutters

and regular waves of apparently motionless motion

under the teetering structures of administration

where a million shut-away eyes glance once

restlessly at the river’s ruts and glints

count five, then wander swiftly

away over the stone wing-bone of the city.

*

i am in love with this spell thing

and!

a lesson about gauge

i have been knitting for many, many years.  i know the importance of gauge.*

* gauge is a measurement of the number of stitches and rows per inch of knitting.

i always check my gauge.  always.*

* except if it is a yarn and needle combo i use constantly. like, for example, blue moon fiber arts socks that rock in lightweight = size 1 needles (addi turbos or addi turbo lace needles). 

now, maybe, maybe sometimes, i get a little hopeful with my gauge. like, for example, when i knit a gauge swatch flat and get 3 1/2 stitches per inch and think, "well, when i knit in the round, my gauge will definitely be tigher, so that probably counts as 4 stitches per inch." 

guess what? it doesn't work that way:

and you might end up with a hat that is 2 times bigger than your head.  it does look kinda okay from some angles:

but not at all from others:

have we learned our lesson yet?  check your gauge.  be honest.  you're only hurting yourself.  

wednesday's poems

Ode to things, by Pablo Neruda

I have a crazy,

crazy love of things.

I like pliers,

and scissors. 

I love

cups, 

rings,

and bowls – 

not to speak, or course,

of hats.

I love

all things,

not just

the grandest, 

also

the 

infinite-

ly

small – 

thimbles, 

spurs,

plates,

and flower vases.

Oh yes,

the planet 

is sublime!

It’s full of pipes

weaving

hand-held

through tobacco smoke,

and keys

and salt shakers – 

everything,

I mean,

that is made 

by the hand of man, every little thing: 

shapely shoes,

and fabric,

and each new

bloodless birth

of gold,

eyeglasses

carpenter’s nails,

brushes,

clocks, compasses, 

coins, and the so-soft

softness of chairs.

Mankind has 

built 

oh so many

perfect

things!

Built them of wool

and of wood, 

of glass and

of rope: 

remarkable

tables, 

ships, and stairways.

I love

all

things,

not because they are

passionate

or sweet-smelling

but because,

I don’t know,

because

this ocean is yours,

and mine; 

these buttons

and wheels

and little

forgotten

treasures,

fans upon

whose feathers

love has scattered

its blossoms,

glasses, knives and

scissors – 

all bear

the trace

of someone’s fingers

on their handle or surface,

the trace of a distant hand

lost

in the depths of forgetfulness.

I pause in houses,

streets and 

elevators

touching things,

identifying objects

that I secretly covet; 

this one because it rings,

that one because 

it’s as soft

as the softness of a woman’s hip,

that one there for its deep-sea color,

and that one for its velvet feel.

O irrevocable 

river

of things: 

no one can say

that I loved

only

fish, 

or the plants of the jungle and the field, 

that I loved

only

those things that leap and climb, desire, and survive.

It’s not true: 

many things conspired

to tell me the whole story.

Not only did they touch me,

or my hand touched them: 

they were

so close

that they were a part

of my being,

they were so alive with me

that they lived half my life

and will die half my death.

dear yarn,

tulips

and a few experiments on the camera, just for fun.

many days, many projects, day 7

this brings me to the last day of my show and tell of recently-completed knitting projects, at least for now.  this is the little colonnade by stephen west.    i knit it up with socks that rock in mediumweight.  the colorway is algae.

yet again, a simple lace pattern made up of some ktog's, ssk's, and yo's.  in this case, double yo's.  very quick, very easy, and i highly recommend it for tv knitting.

which brings me to another tv admission i have to make.  i'm pretty sure i knit this entire shawl watching reruns of america's next top model! (i know, i know, another CW show).  this is my one and only reality tv weakness, and at least i own it!  how can you not love tyra banks telling girls they're too old (25) and too heavy (110 lbs at casting + 10 lbs during the show) to model?  it really is uplifting.  and plus, i kinda heart nigel barker because in one episode he took the contestants out to dinner with his mom!  and in another episode he took photos with his wife.

okay, that's really enough.

wednesday's poems

Snow by Louis Macneice

The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was
Spawning snow and pink roses against it
Soundlessly collateral and incompatible:
World is suddener than we fancy it.

World is crazier and more of it than we think,
Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion
A tangerine and spit the pips and feel
The drunkenness of things being various.

And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world
Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes -
On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one's
hands -
There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.

many days, many projects, day 6

amore, amour, liefde, dragoste, láska, sayang, kärlek, love!

that is the only word that can explain how i feel about this project:

that is a very single, very fat skein of malabrigo rasta.  the colorway is arco iris.   the pattern is kinda my own, and kinda a smaller version of this pattern.   a very simply k2tog, yo repeat.  all you need is a fabulous button, and you're done! 

this yarn is definitely my new second favorite chunky (nothing could possibly outshine de-vine...more on that later).  the colors are gorgeous, it is soft, and it is affordable.  if that isn't a prize-winning triumvirate, i don't know what is.