Perfection es Cereza

I'm a shy person. I always have been. Talking to people I don't know is not a strength of mine. One time in high school AP Psych, we had to do a survey project and I had what was very close to a nervous breakdown at the Brickyard at NC State. In recent years I've gotten better at this, partially due to living on my own, partially because my last two jobs have been in customer service. The idea of interacting with new people, however, still sends chills down my spine.

This is why I'm always surprised when I go to yarn stores. It's not a hugely common occurrence for me. My lack of personal transportation combined with a student's income and access to Wi-Fi means that most of my yarn purchases are online. When I do get the chance to go to someone's LYS (I don't have one), I'm always surprised at how easy conversation is.

Knitting has this magical way of making everyone around it more approachable. It sets a baseline for conversation for every knitter. You walk into a yarn store and everyone there is willing to talk about the softness of cashmere, the pros and cons of DPNs, which stitch markers are the least obtrusive. Or, perhaps, what your LYS is.

I noticed this yesterday when I went to a local-ish yarn store about fifteen minutes from where I'm vacationing. Heidi & Lana is an adorable little yarn shop in Sebring, Ohio. It has a large wool selection and quite a few worsted and bulky weights that I had my eye on. I didn't see a lot of lighter weight and no lace, but I didn't have a ton of time to browse, as I had to get back to the cottage to go my first cousin once removed's birthday (my dad's sister is twenty years older than him -- relations can get confusing).

As I was checking out, the owner Margaret asked if I was visiting, presumably because this is the kind of town where, if you're a knitter, you shop there. I said that I was from out of town and that I liked to visit local yarn stores when traveling. She asked me where I was from and when I said central North Carolina, she recommended a LYS that I had never heard of in Cary: Warm 'n Fuzzy.

This nearly made me laugh out loud. Only in knitting circles would you be able to walk into a tiny store in one of the most rural towns in Ohio and be directed to a different tiny store over 500 miles away on your doorstep. I love this community.

Excuse the fuzziness, I'm back to my camera.

I bought three skeins of Kraemer Perfection Worsted, one in Dew Drop, two in Quartz. Perfection is an acrylic/merino blend that is theoretically machine washable -- though I will probably wash a swatch first to test that. It's very soft. I tend to like merino/acrylic blends because the sleekness of the acrylic takes some of the scratchiness out of the merino. Usually the latter doesn't bother me, but my itch sense flares up sometimes so it's nice to know I have the yarn to deal with it.

I have no idea what I will be making with the three balls, I just know that the colors are very complimentary. The Dew Drop is a little less deep then in that picture. The color palette of the two reminds me of beaches -- sand and sea. Which is hilarious because they're wool.

While Heidi & Lana was in the most rural of rural, The Designing Woman was in Fairlawn, a suburb of the city of Akron. My non-knitter cousin-in-law had mentioned that she knew of a yarn store near her house and so my mother was kind enough to let me sidetrack the family for twenty minutes so I could go scouting out the premises.

Heidi & Lana was a gorgeous little store, but its variety was somewhat lacking. The Designing Woman had more variety than I could explore in the twenty minutes we were there. It had Rowan, Cascade, Lopi, fair-trade from South America, glitzy yarn from France, buttons, needles, hooks. I suspected wizardry as the shop seemed too small on the outside to hold all of the yarn inside. And that wasn't counting fabric and buttons, which the shop also sold.

The owner, Suzanne was very sweet and nice, despite having major surgery recently, and answered all my questions about all the different kinds of yarn she carried. We talked a bit about how I learned to knit, how her daughter had been the knitter of the family before she learned, what patterns we were both interested in.

Finally, after staying ten minutes past closing (which was unintentional, but which I still feel bad about), I managed to settle on one skein of Malabrigo Mechita in Cereza, which is 100% very soft Peruvian merino. The deepness of the red doesn't quite come across in this picture, but it's beautiful. I think I will very much enjoy knitting with it. It also solves my Red Problem*: I love red and I look great in it (I think -- think -- I'm a summer palette, but since I don't completely know what that means, don't take my word), but I've never knitted anything red except for some socks I gave my cousin, who is a Boston fan.

Since the Malabrigo solves my Red Problem, I know exactly what it's for, unlike the Kraemer. But that's a surprise for when I start working on it. And I still have to buy beads, so you'll just have to wait.

*No, not that Red Problem. That Red Problem won't be solved for about forty years.

PS: The Designing Woman also had knitting books and magazines of all shapes. Specifically Windswept: Collection One by Marie Wallin, which reminded me that I have a story to tell you all. But that is for another post.

Stop me, please

You know when you are already planning a trip and then something else you want to do in that area jumps out at you? On some occasions, this can be a fun surprise. SAFF was the weekend after Fall Break last year, so I didn't miss it. It didn't rain all over me when I visited Skellig Michael in Ireland (aka Luke Skywalker's private island -- a fact I will never get over). When I went to California, I got to see the Thrilling Adventure Hour live (yesterday was the anniversary of this momentous occasion) and Paget Brewster signed my Beyond Belief poster; all a month before they announced live shows were going to be ending. The trip I'm on now magically coincided with my mother letting me use her money to buy local yarn (pics later).

But sometimes, these are not so convenient additions to what you want to do. Sometimes, they are downright inconvenient. Like, if they happened one week later, you would be able to enjoy all of their many wonders, but now you're stuck trying to logic yourself out of just buying the damn train ticket and going to the thing.

Apparently, Loch Ness in Scotland has a knitting festival. Loch Ness Knit Fest. Isn't that just the best thing you've ever heard? I was already planning a trip to Loch Ness with another friend who will be studying in the UK this fall (a brilliantly witty young woman whom I will not name). I had just discovered that bed and breakfasts are much more affordable than I thought they would be and I had set my sights on one specific one that I shall not name, lest the internet snatch it from my grasp.

(It's so cute. And it's only two miles from Loch Ness. And it has the best views.)

Then, while googling Loch Ness yarn shops (as a knitter is wont to do for every location they visit), Google's autocorrect filled in to Loch Ness yarn...festival.

I, to put it in the French, flipped my shit. A Loch Ness yarn festival?! In Loch Ness?! Where the adorable B&B is?! It seemed too good to be true.

Of course, it was. Alas, Loch Ness Knit Fest goes from 29 September to 2 October (getting used to the British way of date-naming). I arrive in the UK on 24 September and most of the first week I am there is get-to-know-you games and social events for international students. I will be over jet lag, as I'm going to Spain for a week before I arrive in England, but I still won't know anyone or how to get around. Also, I'm like 90% sure that my friend (who is not a knitter) would not go to Loch Ness a week after she arrives in the UK just for a knitting festival.

And yet, my brain is still trying to find a way to do this. It has suggested traveling alone (not happening); kidnapping my friend (I don't know where her housing is at her host university; so, no); going for one day (which would constitute 8 hours of train travel and approximately an hour of being able to do anything); and kidnapping a random student of my host university to accompany me (which is probably the best plan, but I still wouldn't know them very well. Bonding?)

Basically, I'm in a pickle. The best thing would be to avoid all tell of Loch Ness until I forget about the yarn festival, but that is not working for me.

The other plan is to try and find other yarn/knitting festivals in the area of the UK that I will be spending most of my time in. My mum suggested it. She might not know what she has wrought.

The Golden Hour

In photography, the golden hour (sometimes known as magic hour, especially in cinematography) is a period shortly after sunrise or before sunset during which daylight is redder and softer than when the Sun is higher in the sky.

-- Wikipedia

I normally don't notice the golden hour. It's ridiculously hot where I live -- upward of 95 degrees Fahrenheit every day for the past two weeks with ridiculous humidity -- so going outside really isn't an option and natural light changes go unnoticed from indoors.

This week, though, I am visiting my Yankee family in the north of the country and it's been beautiful. My aunt and her husband own a lake house and a boat and we've gone out every day, then stayed up late into the night outside.

This has given me the opportunity to not only recognize the golden hour, but utilize its magic picture-editing abilities. It's like nature's Instagram filter. Which may be the most Millennial thing I have ever said (typed?). In any case, I used my father's phone (his camera is better than mine) to snap pics of my current projects.

I'm currently working on two major projects, this being the first cast on. It is the gorgeous Evenstar Shawl by Susan Pandorf, published (but not bought) as part of her Fellowship of the Ring Series. I love this pattern for two reasons:

One: it's really complicated. I know there are some knitters who are content to work big chunky garter cowls until the end of their days. All power to them, truly. But I am not that kind of knitter. I like a challenge. Evenstar has four charts, each more complicated then the last (including chart 3, though it starts off simple). Miraculously, I've only had to go back to fix a mistake twice. This is partially due to my love for yarn surgery though. I've made more mistakes than two.

Two: It's geeky, but not overtly. While I love knitted Daleks and Game of Thrones crest charts as much as the next girl, there is very little chance that I will ever make anything with them. My knitting, while occasionally geeky (re: the Elenor shawl), is geared more toward the traditional. Evenstar is Lord of the Rings themed as well as totally gorgeous.

The shawl is beautiful so far and I love it. This is partially due to the yarn, which is Valley Yarns' Colrain Lace. I bought it from WEBS during one of their sales (I don't remember which) and it's 1540 yards on one cone. I think it's supposed to be meant for weaving, but it's lace weight and it's lovely, so I have no complaints. It's a merino-tencel blend and the tencel gives it a nice smooth sheen and feel to the merino's softness. The tencel takes away any residual itch from the merino completely.

I haven't been working on Evenstar a lot this week, though, because I'm at a quite repetitive point in the whole process. The current portion of the pattern calls for the same repeating four rows for twenty-four rows. The stitch count at this point is 560 stitches per round. I'm at seventeen out of the twenty-four. It is slow-going right now. Fortunately the rest of this chart looks very complicated -- it will be a good pick-me-up after the slog.

Instead of working on Evenstar, I have been dedicating my soul to this beauty. That's not a fantastic picture -- the golden hour is an hour with long shadows and a propensity for turning things pinker than they are in real life (though that could be the camera), but those are the wicked neat cables of Amy Gunderson's Valentina sweater. That is the front and it's quite near the seventeen inches necessary for beginning armhole decreases (closer now, as this picture was taken two hours ago).

I am studying abroad this fall in the United Kingdom and have been informed by television, movies, books, news reporters, and rumor that the United Kingdom is a very damp place. In my experience, wool has a tendency to keep a fair amount of moisture out. It also stays warm even when it's wet, which will be good considering I will be there through December (I actually get back two days before Christmas). As such, I needed a hardy wool sweater and I knew just the yarn for it.

Two years ago, my mother told me that if I saved enough money for airfare to Éire (it's a terrible joke; I regret nothing), she would take me there as a high school graduation / eighteenth birthday present. I scrimped, saved, bought a $900 plane ticket, and had my first ever alcohol buzz in a hotel bar in Galway the day before my eighteenth birthday. With my mum. I'm a rebel.

Anyway, we also visited the Aran Sweater Market on Inis Mór while we were in Ireland. Now, I know that the whole thing about Aran fisherman being identified by their clan cable pattern is basically baloney. But, even if its origins are slightly fraudulent, the practice of Aran knitting has become a part of knitting culture and not to its detriment. Aran cabling is gorgeous. So, I bought a sweater's worth of 100% Irish wool and it has been sitting in my stash ever since.

Not sitting aimlessly in my stash, I assure you. I would bring it out, cast on for a sweater, then it wouldn't work out because I never gauge anything and, as such, things wouldn't be the size they were supposed to be. So I would frog my progress and throw the yarn back in the stash in frustration. Having decided I needed a sturdy wool sweater for England, however, I decided that I would work through my issues and actually make a sweater with this yarn. Valentina was the last in a long list of Ravelry patterns that I looked at and boy, am I glad I kept looking and didn't settle for my second choice, which I wasn't totally happy with.

Valentina is gorgeous, becomes rather simple as you go, and is fairly easy to adjust to your shape. I even made a swatch (this shows I've matured) and it definitely helped. I was slightly worried that it was too wide (a recurring problem with this yarn) but I trusted the swatch and once I got to the cables, the width tightened right up. It occurs to me that this might have been the problem with previous attempts at sweaters, but I'm going to ignore that.

The front is currently on the needles up there. The back is finished and blocked (to make sure I'd done everything right), but I was in a hurry when packing my knitting on travel day and it did not make the finish line. So, once the front is done I will be able to start the sleeves and once I get back home, it will probably be only a couple days to a week for the sweater to be completely totally done.

There will not be modeled pictures. At least not ones taken during the golden hour. It is August. It is hot.

Ignoring time spent elsewhere...

I've finished some projects! Two big ones, a few small ones.

 

The first is Kristina McCurley's Vortex Shawl, in Shalimar Yarns' Aerie yarn, which I bought at SAFF last year. The dark blue is Asilomar, the light is Whale Tales. It's just light enough to stay on my shoulders without a pin, but heavy enough to be a bit warm.

I call it alternately my Finals Shawl (it was started the first day of Spring Finals Week and completed on the last) and my Badass Faerie Cloak, though I lean toward the latter because it requires less explanation.

Secondly, I began and completed what I call my my Shepard Gauntlets, after the savior of the galaxy from BioWare's Mass Effect game series. The mitts are reverse engineered and slightly altered from Ravelry user litfoh's Mass Effect Gloves, which themselves use color charts from BioWearables' Interrupt Gauntlets. I utterly adore these fingerless mitts. I will never under any circumstances knit them again.

While the mitts are beautiful and they fit me like...well, you know, they are also reverse engineered. This means that I had no pattern. Having no starting pattern means that I have two extra Renegade (right) mitts. For the first one, the mitt was too large for my tiny hands. For the second, it fit fine, but when I made the accompanying Paragon (left) mitt, it was after losing one of my DPNs and working it on three instead of four.

Silly me did not realize that this would make the glove much more tightly knit. Silly me is an asshole.

Anyway, the Paragon glove actually fit better when knit on three needles, so that is how I made the third (and hopefully last) Renegade glove. Finally, after two extra months of knitting and almost running out of grey, I had two kickass fingerless mitts to play the new Mass Effect on. I still have to wait until it comes out, but I am ready to go.

These are knit in Cascade's 220 Fingering weight, in White, Red, Charcoal, and Topaz. In alternate news, I thought that topaz was a yellow gemstone but apparently it also comes in bright blue. Who knew?

I also knit one shawl I haven't blocked yet and have started another shawl (I always have one on the needles now) and an Aran sweater for myself. They will be in another post, as I do not have pictures of them yet.