Correcting Past Mistakes

I humbly come before you today and ask that you forgive me my whining about seaming.  Apparently it's not that I don't like seaming, but that I didn't like seaming (correctly) for the first time.


"Correctly?" you say, in that inquisitive tone?


Let me explain.  You see, back in 2008/2009 I started one of my first constructed pieces of clothing (The other was a sweater knit in the round but this one was in pieces, which required seaming).  I honestly can't remember today what I was thinking then, but I "seamed" the pieces without researching in any of my knitting books or googling or anything.  And here was the result:

Can you tell why I (fondly) refer to this project as "The Ugly Vest" on Ravelry?

To borrow a phrase: it's a "hot mess".

Honestly, it looks like it should be called "Frankenvest".  Something out of the closet of Buffalo Bill from The Silence of the Lambs.  Ok I'm done.  

To summarize: my first attempt at seaming was wrong, wrong, wrong. I think I put that article away unfinished because it was just so darn ugly.  And as it turns out, I made the right choice because it needed to sit and wait (patiently, I hope) until the day when I had gained enough experience to make it pretty.

Fast forward 3-4 years.  I was in bed today, still getting over the nasty whatever-it-was I caught over the weekend.  And I slept for a few hours, then I just could not sleep any more.  So I did a little reading online.  I was catching up on Young House Love, then I perused some of the back logs of Making It Lovely, in which the very-talented Nicole Balch designed and decorated a dollhouse for her daughter.  I am not exaggerating when I say, this dollhouse is brilliant.  Check it out here.

The only relevancy this has is: after reading my blogroll, I always get inspired.  This time, I realized since I was not going to get any more sleep today, yet I didn't have enough energy to actually get out of bed, I could work on one of my SOs.

I wandered into the craft room, and lo and behond, Ugly Vest was at the top of the pile.  So I took it into bed with me and did this:

frog [frog, frawg]  noun, verb, frogged, frog·ging,

noun

1.  any tailless, stout-bodied amphibian of the order Anura, including the smooth, moist-skinned frog species that live in a damp or semiaquatic habitat and the warty, drier-skinned toad species that are mostly terrestrial as adults.

2.  Also called true frog, ranid. any frog of the widespread family Ranidae, most members of which are semiaquatic and have smooth, moist skin and relatively long hind legs used for leaping. Compare toad ( def. 2 ) .

3.  a slight hoarseness, usually caused by mucus on the vocal cords: a frog in the throat.

4.  ( often initial capital letter ) Slang: Disparaging and Offensive . a French person or a person of French descent.

5.  a small holder made of heavy material, placed in a bowl or vase to hold flower stems in position.

6.  a recessed panel on one of the larger faces of a brick or the like.

7.  Music . nut ( def. 11b ) .

verb (used without object)

8.  to hunt and catch frogs.

(source: dictionary.com)

And my own addition:

9.  to unravel or unweave any number of rows of knitting or stitching; the action is so called because you "Rip it, rip it."

All this to say that I frogged back the seams and started over.


When the seams were all ripped out, I had a moment of pure, crystal clarity on what I should do.  I was not to simply seam it up properly; no.  I took a pair of US size 8's (and a cable needle), I cast on 8 stitches, and with the remainder of the skein, I began to do this:

I carefully counted the stitches up the side-seam of Ugly Vest, and I worked 91 rows until I had a strip of cabling.  Then, I got out my yarn needle (yep, the same one the kitty chewed on) and started to follow the seaming method I learned while working on the Cream Zippy Cardigan.

The result brought a little bit of joy to my life:

Yes, it's the same seam.  Let me post the before picture again, for comparison.

Before:

After:

I'm going to repeat that, because it bears repeating.

Before:

 After:

And just because I'm THAT excited about the end result, here's another view, this time of the inside of the seam.

Before:

After:

Two clean seams, on either side of the cabling.

I have never felt so accomplished on a sick day in my whole life!

Have you ever taken something you started (or finished) years ago and went back to update and/or fix it?

Mrs. Pi

P.S. These pictures are terribly deceptive.  The vest is actually a grey-green in person.  Here, this one shows it better:

P.P.S.  I took that picture January 11, 2009 when I last worked on Ugly Vest, to chronicle my progress.  Thank you, date tags on cell pictures!

P.P.P.S.  I have gained (no word a lie) 49 pounds since I took that picture.  It is one of my many sources of inspiration for eating healthier and getting back into shape.  

P.P.P.P.S.  Since there's a decidedly "Before and After" Jeopardy! category-esque theme to this post, I will (reluctantly) post an "after" photo:

You can say it: Yikes.  

But I'm working on it.  Since I started eating better and exercising more (last week), I have lost 3 pounds.  Forty-six more to go.  I'll keep you posted on my progress.

Waste Not, Want Not

I used to like the idea of yarn bombing.  It was sweet and full of whimsy.  It was a constant reminder for people to 1) Stop and look at the world around them, and 2) Think about knitting and 3) smile.  Perhaps there was a bit of civil disobedience in there, too.  Graffiti with a warm and cozy bent.  Indie meets Granny.


But then I saw this:


http://blueskyalpacas.com/bluesletter/2012/03/helsinkis-cathedral-finland/?utm_source=Blue%20Sky%20News&utm_campaign=160d9b3275-UA-2541404-1&utm_medium=email 


And, for me, it threw the whole practice into (rather stark) perspective.  I noticed the people in the pictures walking on the afghans, and then I thought about rain and the elements.  Fading in the sun.  Dust and bugs and stray doggies.  And dirt or gum or worse on those people's shoes.  And I thought, wow.  That's actually sort of a tragedy.  All that lovely work, lost to wear and tear and spoil and ruin.


Oh, I know that none of the items we make last forever.  In fact, some items may last less than one lifetime, for the accidental felting or the dog getting peckish or something.  But this ... this was different.


Skeins and skeins.  Miles and miles of yarn.  Hundreds of warm blankets that serve a much better purpose on the back of a couch than on the steps of a cathedral.  It made me so sad.


Granted, you're talking to a woman who feels guilty throwing away even the smallest scrap of yarn.  I think about how it could be used for stuffing, or patching up a small hole in the item I knit with it, years from now.  I am not a hoarder, but I am somewhat of a sentimental pack rat.  And I get attached to my yarn.  I'm very choosy about yarn, and seeing leftover yarn reminds me of the project I knit with it, and I remember all the things I was doing while knitting that item, and what I was feeling, and what I was going through at that time.  I truly believe that you pour your heart and soul into your knitting.


When I was at Rhinebeck last year, I met a wonderful gentleman selling yarn, who had the most absolutely beautifully stunning pair of kilt socks (stockings?) proudly displayed in his booth.  And he told my mother and me that he had won a raffle in which the knitter promised any custom hand-knitted item of the winner's choice.  And he chose that pattern, but he specified to the knitter that she must only work on them when she was happy or joyful or in a good mood.  He didn't care how long it took, he wanted only that spirit to be stitched into his socks.  I knew exactly what he was saying.


When I work on a prayer shawl (and sad to admit it has been a while) but when I did, I felt that same desire for spiritual power to flow through me to the article, and in turn to the recipient.  Prayer shawls have a simple pattern - cast on 169 stitches in a Lion's Brand Homespun yarn, work knit 3 purl 3 (not rib) straight on through to the end until you've knit three skeins' worth.  It's so simple that it's meditative.  I know that whoever designed the first prayer shawl must have meant it that way.  You get into such a rhythm that you are no longer paying attention to your hands and yarn and needles, but you're in another plane of existence.  I think that whenever I pray, that's where I should be.  I'll also admit: it doesn't always happen that way.  But I've felt the most powerful presence of God when I'm there, in that rhythm.  When my mind is focused on healing and peace and joy and comfort and all the best gifts that we could ever receive from heaven.  


So for me, I guess the smallest yarn bomb or the "world's largest whatever" goes beyond the spoil of the fiber or the spent time and effort or the utility of the tree cozy or lamppost cozy or bicycle cozy or hundreds of afghans.  It's a waste of the spirit.  Because inevitably, that piece of yourself - it's removed.  It's thrown away.


And perhaps I'm wrong; perhaps I need to remember that each knitter has the power over their artwork.  They decide what happens to it.  My heart aches at the thought of yarn in a landfill.  But certainly the artist secretly seaming a sweater on a solemn statue doesn't consider it anything less than art: pure, surprising, and simple.  So really ... it's me.  It's a war in my heart and mind and a question that I really should answer for myself.  Comedy or tragedy?


What do you think about yarn bombing?  Have you ever done it?  What made you start, and why does it appeal to you?

What Do You Do With Disappointment?

Mrs. Pi!  You're not supposed to be blogging!  You're supposed to be in Virginia spending quality time with your nieces!  What about the zippy cardigan?  What about showing up your sister's challenge to complete a project in a timely manner?


Plans change.  It's life, in fact.  How boring would life be if everything happened exactly as we expected it?  Boring.  I don't think Boring comes in increments, it's just one size: Boring.


So in response to our change of plans due to the nature of life, I did what any sensible woman would do.  I was sad.  I moped.  I sighed.  I acted completely bummed out.


Then, I took a deep breath, got over it, and I made a list of everything I could get accomplished in the time I now had granted to me.  Since Mr. Pi is in class this weekend, I decided I would organize the craft room.  Sort through some of those big Rubbermaid bins I have.  Organize my stash yarn and figure out a creative way to display it.  Sew some curtains, like I've been meaning to do for six months.  Switch out my fall/winter clothes with spring/summer clothes.  Do some spring cleaning. 


Then I threw the list out the window and knitted instead.  Or rather, I proverbially threw the list out the window, since it's still safe and sound, folded up in my purse for another day/weekend.  I defied not only the list, but my 2012 Personal Goals.  I did not reach for one of the pairs of socks I have already started.  I did not reach for one of the other SOs I have to finish.  I reached for Nuna.


Remember sunshine-in-a-daisy's-center Nuna?  That one bonus skein that was completely out of place with the larger-gauge yarns in the cubby at my LYS?

There she is, Nuna, second from the left.

I took Nuna, who was already wound up nice in a ball, and I grabbed some US4 DPNs (double pointed needles), and I started improvising a design from my Pinterest board.  My first actual follow-through on a pin!  You know how there are all those Pinterest challenges on other blogs, encouraging us to not only stockpile plans and dreams and lovelies, but start to act on them as well?  I acted on one!

Here is the link to what I pinned (since I haven't obtained any permission to use the photo).  I realize that this link may not always be active, but while you're there, admire (and purchase, if so inclined) the other items in homelab's etsy shop.  Homelab is obviously a skilled knitter with an eye for classy designs.

I was inspired.  So I cast on 44 stitches, and I worked a few rows of 1x1 ribbing downstairs in the living room, while listening to Catching Fire on audiobook with Mr. Pi before Supernatural came on.  

I can't resist the chance to put in my two cents on Supernatural.  *Spoiler Alert*  It was sort of a happy episode, since Cass is back, and Sam is free from Satan's torment, and all is right in the world.  Well, perhaps not all is right, since Cass is now crazy with Sam's Lucifer illusion and locked up in an asylum.  And our old friend Meg the demon has reappeared to take a job as a psychiatrist with the hospital so she can get to Cass - for whatever demon-y reason she has.  I'm sure we can all be confident it's not good.  However, I am also confident that Castiel can take all this on and more, since after all, he survived the Leviathans.  And he's an Angel of the Lord.  Come on.

I can't help but add in two other Supernatural comments (bear with me here):

1.  If you watched the show Lost (another of my favorite shows) you'd recognize Lucifer as Jacob.  I'm tempted to say that those are the two most extreme ends of the character spectrum you can get, or darn close to it.

2.  Jared Padalecki plays Sam Winchester in Supernatural.  Sam's brother's name is Dean Winchester (played by the simply beautiful Jensen Ackles).  Jared Padalecki also played Rory's boyfriend Dean on Gilmore Girls (yet another of my favorite shows).  Gets quite confusing.

When Supernatural was over, it was 10pm and Mr Pi had to get up early for class, so we went up to bed.  But I wasn't tired, so I worked on my project a little longer.  That was when I looked down at the yarn, and saw this:

Is it just me, or is that really pretty?  The blue/tan paisley duvet with the yellow yarn - it spoke to me.  In fact, I took a few more pictures, because I was struck.

I've said it before: I'm somewhat of a voyeur when it comes to knitting.  I just love looking at yarn and knitting and I'm not sure why.  It's pretty.

So anyway, this morning I got up with Mr. Pi around 6:30am, and I sat and watched the news for a bit, and when he left a little before 8am, I had a choice before me.  Continue with the yellow mitts, or tackle The List?  Either one, The SOs List or the Productive Weekend List.

I continued with the mitts.  I spent a few glorious and relaxing hours in the recliner with my knitting, then I wandered back upstairs to cozy down in bed with the mid-morning sun shining in the window, and with a little background noise from the music channels and a few shows on A&E ... 

I finished the first mitt:

I could just as easily have spent the morning in bed watching t.v. feeling sorry for myself and bemoaning the unfairness of life, but instead I put my mind and will to something that I wanted, just for me, and I grabbed it.  And I'm really happy with myself and the outcome =0)  I could have been more productive, it's true.  But I am happy.  So I make no excuses.

Now I might put a load of laundry in the washing machine, then spend the rest of the day finishing the other mitt.  I might also save it for tomorrow and start on the craft room.  Maybe I'll eat something, or take a nice long bath.  The possibilities are endless!

Now it's your turn to share.  Have you ever actually made something you pinned to Pinterest?  Or something you admired in a magazine, or saw on Ravelry, or read about in a blog?  How did it come out?  

Have you ever been disappointed by a situation only to find that with the right attitude everything actually worked out pretty well?

Mrs. Pi

Not a Total Betty But a Vast Improvement

Update:  Cream Zippy Cardigan is seamed, ends are all woven in, and it's in the washing machine.  Did I tell you I used a Lion Brand Pound of Love (100% Acrylic) for this one?  For my sister's sanity I chose a yarn that is machine-washable and is, in fact, also machine dry-able as well.  I'm testing the washing instructions out before I sew in the zipper.


I have also completed the first pair of baby leg warmers!


So close to two more FOs for the year ... I feel guilty counting the baby leg warmers, but hey, who said all masterpieces had to be colossal?  I've seen the Mona Lisa, and she, my friends, is no bigger than an 8'' x 10''.


Mrs. Pi 

Perseverance

I'd like to put on record that if I thought weaving in ends was the most tedious of all knit-related tasks, I was wrong.  So very wrong.


It took me through the last quarter of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and the entire length of the movie Coraline (on ABC Family) last night to seam up just one side and arm of the Cream Zippy Cardigan.  I will admit that I am a perfectionist and had to back-track a few times to make it look just right,

(see how thick the seam looks?  I suspect I may have accidentally seamed a full stitch in instead of a half-stitch) 

and it was particularly tricky around the cabled section, 

The cables had to meet in the armpit, didn't they?

and there were times when the pieces didn't seem to fit together just right - but come on.  Three hours for one side?  Tedium to beat all tediums.  


This morning, I've made it up the other side seam and nearly to the end of the other sleeve, during most of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and the beginning of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (again, ABC Family.  God bless them for their HP marathons).

Seaming is the most excruciating exercise I've endured in my life.  Akin to scratching "I must not tell lies" in the back of my hand with a quill.


What's worse: I had a moment of extreme temptation.  Last night it took all my willpower not to abandon my task.


I was frustrated with my plastic yarn needle.
  

At some point one of the cats decided to chew off the sharpish tip of it, so the "new" tip is more blunt (blunter?) and squared-offish.
  

See?  There are even kitty chew marks.


It tends to split the yarn and is more difficult to use.  I got annoyed enough with it that I ran upstairs to try to sift through my supplies and find the other one (they come in packs of two).  


I didn't find the other needle, but what I did find was a renewed love of my stash yarn.  "Oh! This! I forgot about this! I love this! This is soooo lovely! And this one - ohhhh I saw a pattern on Ravelry that this would be just perfect for ..."  Etc. etc. etc.


But my sister's voice rang clear in my ears, and I promised myself I would finish the Cream Zippy Cardigan this weekend.  Those other projects will have to wait and serve as a reward for my perseverance.


What's your experience with seaming?  Any tips?  Words of encouragement?  Does it get easier?


Mrs. Pi

Weaving in Loose Ends

There have been a few topics I promised in prior posts but neglected to expand upon.  Here they are:


1.  Twice-Knit Knitting, or How Mom and Dad Got Together

Ok, so that's a strong way of putting it.  There were many other chapters in my parents' love story before they got married.  But I guess Twice-Knit Knitting could easily have been Chapter One. It's a sweet story, one that I will probably butcher, since I didn't get the amazing story-telling gene from my Grampa (but that's a topic for another day).


The story starts with my Mom's Mom.  Grandma Murphy is one of the most creative women I know, blessed with the entrepreneurial spirit, the drive to make things happen, and the sass/savvy of a Southern businesswoman.  Off the top of my head, her ventures include selling stoves, owning a plant store & caring for the plants of local businesses, creating and selling appliqued (insert accent aigu) shirts, and designing, making, and selling western wear under her business, Lee Wearable Art.  She also patented two knitting techniques:  knitting in a circle with two straight needles, and double-knitting.  And as if that weren't enough, she also published a knitting book, Twice-Knit Knitting.


It's out of print (sigh), but I have a copy on order through Amazon.  I'll have to scan and post some of the pictures here in a future blog; my Mom, Aunts, and Grampa all modeled her designs.  


See that lovely skimpy number on the right?  The blue bikini?  Yep, my Mom (then-15? 16?) modeled it on a beach (ordinary).  On a beach in winter (out of the ordinary).  To further put in in perspective, there was snow on the beach that day.  They had to hunt around and finally found a spot on the rocks where you couldn't see the snow!  My poor Mom ... by the end of the shoot her nipples were probably as blue as the bikini itself.


So the story continues that my other Grandma, Dad's Mom, bought a copy of Grandma Murphy's book.  Somehow my Dad got his eye on that picture of my Mom, and he cut it out of his Mom's knitting book, and stuck it in the side of his mirror in his room.  All together now:  Awwwwwah!  


And life went on ... and their paths diverged, then converged, and six years after Grandma's book was published, they were married.  Next month marks their 36th anniversary :)


2.  In January I mentioned a "new knitting venture" that I have been considering.

Last post, I showed you the hats I knit for my baby niece while I was down in Virginia.  My sister told me that at one of Leah's doctor's appointments, the nurses and other ladies loved Leah's hat.  She said if I knit up a bunch, she thought I could sell them at $8 - $10 apiece.  


The next week, I found the yarn I used for the hats on Joann.com at a nice discount.  So I bought up a dozen skeins.  I could make 24 hats in different sizes out of that dozen.  I thought maybe I could sell them to friends or referrals.


But the winter has been mild (to say the least) and other projects distracted me from my venture.  So I still might knit up those hats, but maybe I'll give them to charity.  This article particularly moved me to consider it:


http://www.cleveland.com/opinion/index.ssf/2012/01/knitters_warm-hearted_bequest.html 


I have a friend near Cleveland, OH who knits, too.  We talked about setting up a non-profit knitting club ... maybe coordinating with our knitting friends around the country to donate one item a month.  It's not much, but a nice pair of mittens or a scarf or a hat could mean the world to one child walking to school in the winter.


3.  Why Pictures Are So Essential To The Success of Blogs

"How can one possibly pay attention to a book with no pictures in it?" 
~Alice, from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll


I confess.  I'm as guilty as any of that most offensive of all offenses: Not reading a blog post, just looking at the pictures.  As I said before, we live in the age of Google Images and Pinterest, where we can visually gorge our appetite for knitting inspiration at the strike of a few keys.  Search for "knit" or "yarn" and you have a smorgasbord of tactile delights.  


Don't deny it: it's human nature that our five senses tend to overpower our intelligence or imagination.  In fact, it is usually for the lack of the former that the latter wins out.


I'm not sure what more I can say on that topic except that, knowing this to be true, I've tried to use more photos in my blogs.  


As an aside, for some reason I like taking up-close pictures of my projects.  I never took a photography class - maybe I should.  It just seems to break up the monotony of the standard project-shot-from-above angle.


So there you have it.  If your curiosity was burning, I hope that was enough to quell the flame.  Now I must leave you, to seam up the cream zippy cardigan!  My sister threw down the gauntlet when I told her about it and she said "Oh, so when will she be getting it?  Next year?  The year after?"  


Apparently I have a reputation for unfinished projects that I need to repair.


(Darnit, it was ok when only I knew it, but now everyone else has noticed too)


Mrs. Pi   

Progress = Success

Eighteen days left in March, and I'm well on my way to KOing three more SOs:


1.  This is the "Cream Baby Sweater" I so creatively mentioned in the 2012 FO Post:

You might have guessed that's not the real name of it.  I'm following a pattern from the book Teach Yourself To Knit by Evie Rosen and Leisure Arts.  It'll be a zip-up hooded baby jacket, although I beg to differ with the "jacket" part of that description.  It's still sweater-weight.  Perhaps they define "jacket" by having a zipper and a hood.  Zippy cardigan, I say!

(There's no way you could know this, but I just spent a good twenty minutes searching twenty some-odd pages of knitting books on Joann.com to find that link.  It would have taken five seconds to run upstairs to the craft room to fetch it.)

I'm knitting size 4, so it's not truly a baby sweater.  We'll see if it fits my 2-year old niece ... I have no concept of sizing for children.  Will it be too small?  Will it be too big?  Will it fit just right?  Will it fit, but need a little bit of rolling at the cuffs?  This last scenario is ideal, because that means she could probably wear it this Spring and also this upcoming fall.  Then, if she's not messy, she can pass it on to her little sister (turning one in November)!

I still need to finish the collar and hood, and seam this baby up.  Oh, and sew in a zipper.

The zipper's going to be the most challenging part for me.  I've never sewn into one of my knit items before.  I remember reading (and apparently NOT starring) a helpful blog article on this very topic:

http://splityarn.com/2011/03/27/easiest-knitted-zipper-install-ever.html 


You don't know this, but it took me quite some time to search my Google Reader feed for that.  I'm just not on my game today.  Article starred, mental note to order some blocking wires.  Riddle me this: Why don't the big-box craft stores sell the most essential knitting tools?


I don't know the answer.  I'm rather like The Mad Hatter in that way.


2.  Baby legwarmers:

I know, they weren't on the list.  In fact, take a lap in my craft room and you'll see there were lots of SOs that weren't on that list.  I have my work cut out for me!

My sister, M, requested knitted legwarmers for both her girls.  Again, I have no concept of baby sizing, so we'll see if this pair fits - oldest or youngest, I'm not picky.  I figure they've got to fit one of the girls.  I'll bring the rest of the skein with me and whip up a pair for the other.  

Oh, did I mention I'm taking a weekend trip to Virginia to visit my nieces (and sister and brother-in-law) in a few weeks?  These sort of trips always inspire a frenzy of knitting activity for me.  It's a productive way to handle the excitement!

Last time I was there, I cranked out these babies:

Nope, not literal human babies.  Although, here's one, modeling the smaller of the two hats:

The shirt truly says it all :)  Sweet girl!


3.  Hedgerow Socks

This picture does the color so much better justice than the first time I mentioned my Hedgerow Socks.

I know it doesn't look like I've progressed too far from the last time I updated you on this SO, but what you can't see is that I was originally planning on revising this pattern to make these knee-high socks.  I started with a few staggered increases for my calves, got a fair bit done, then decided I didn't like my adjustment and had to rip out quite a bit of the progress, back to before I started increasing.

From there, I continued down the ankle, and have gotten so far as to start the heel flap.  So they'll be more like trouser socks.

There you have it!  I've made progress on three of my SOs since last we met!  Yay!


In other news:

No, we're not trying (euphemism for having unprotected sex), but one day we will be trying (having unprotected sex) and I want my body to be a healthy place to grow a baby!    Mr. Pi, sweet, sensitive, thoughtful man that he is, brought these home from the grocery store for me :)  Did I mention I struck gold in the husband department?  I mean platinum.


As a final PSA, don't forget, tomorrow's Pi Day 3/14.  Hug a math nerd, or enjoy a slice :)


Mrs. Pi


P.S. To cite my reference in the title of this post, the start page of my Google Chrome browser shows a thumbnail of facebook, but the caption was "Progress = Success".  So weird.  But relevant to my blog, so I'll bogart it. 

Heart and Soul (Without the Chopsticks)

How do we, as knitters, as fibre-artists, draw the line between sharing our art and funding it?  Supplementing our income so we can keep creating, without creating just to make money?  I think it's about heart and soul.


(Yes, I added in the latter just so I can quote Billy Joel later on)


Someone sent me a link today:


http://news.blogs.cnn.com/2012/03/09/for-2500-brooklyn-artist-invites-1-to-take-home-complaints-of-the-99/


I read this article and thought, "Sellout."  I didn't just think "Sellout" - I actually typed "Sellout" in a message back to this person, in response to the article.  Inked it, as it were.


Then I came home and re-read a conversation in my facebook message box.


Backstory: Missie liked her wrist warmers.  She liked them so much, she took a picture of herself wearing them and posted it to her page last night.  Then she messaged me to tell me that in the hour after posting the picture, she had gotten messages from three friends asking where they could get some, too.


So what did I do?


I replied:



"Really??? Woweee! I'd be happy to take requests to commission a pair each, to their own specifications, if they're serious.  Based on the time it takes, and the yarn, and price comparisons on etsy I'd probably charge $35 plus shipping ($5.35 for the flat rate box).


And of course I'd have to make you a bonus gift for the referrals!"


Sellout.


But I didn't realize it.  I went to work today and my mind kept flitting to how I would design my business cards and what my logo would look like and what font I'd use and whether anyone had already claimed the business name "Mrs. Pi Knits".


It was only after I got home, sat down to the laptop, was reading some status updates on my newsfeed, clicked on a link to get redirected here, and started reading some of the exchanges between the grammar-ignorant/apathetic and the self-righteous grammar-correcters that it hit me:


Sellout.


I don't know why that prompted my moment of self-discovery.  


(Is that really a word, self-discovery?  It sounds dirty)



I don't know why that prompted my moment of epiphany.


I think I read my response in the voice of the authors featured in the article.  So convinced of my own self-worth that I never stopped to consider the implication of my words.  "Oh, really?  Your friends like my work?  Of course they do.  Here's my paypal account and they can buy some."


Did I say, "I'm honored that they liked them!"  Did I thank Missie for sharing that with me?  Did I stop to appreciate the fact that I've been twice-blessed: both with a gift and the recognition of that gift by others?  No.  I jumped right into commoditization without hesitation, with both symbolic feet.


Both feet, neither heart nor soul.


I'm not saying there's anything wrong with making money.  I'm not even saying we shouldn't make money from our creations.  But I have always felt something spiritual about knitting.  About creating.  About being given the ability to create something beautiful.  It's what I say I find most satisfying - remember that post about the Knitting Faerie?  About gifts?


I haven't had many moments when I was genuinely disappointed in myself.  Ok, yes, so there have been times when a conversation or project or endeavor didn't go as planned, and I felt defeated.  But disappointment is different.  I failed to meet my own moral standard.  I was so quick to race past the things I claim are most important for me.  


"It's all about soul.  It's all about faith and a deeper devotion.  It's all about soul, 'cause under the love is a stronger emotion..."


And how many more times have I done the same - sold my soul - without revelation of it?


Mrs. Pi

2012 FO #3!

It's March and I have officially completed my third project of the year.  I am also behind schedule by six projects.  


See, at the beginning of the year I made this list.  It wasn't New Year's Resolutions.  It was more than that.  It was like, a 12-month agenda.  A long-term to-do list.  A 2012 Vision.  I left it at work today, so I can't go into much detail right now, but sufficed to say I planned on completing 3 FOs (Finished Objects) per month throughout 2012.  Furthermore, at least one of those FOs each month had to be a pair of socks.  


What?  I want more hand-knit socks.  So sue me.  


Today at lunch, as I was weaving in the ends of Missie's Wrist Warmers, it dawned on me just how far behind I already am (33% to plan year-to-date, ugh).


So then I made a list of My SOs (Started Objects):


1.  Munchkin Socks (a.k.a. Skyp to Oz socks) - started 2012
2.  Hedgerow Socks - started 2011
3.  Brown Sweater (a.k.a. SockSweater) - started 2008
4.  Cream Baby Sweater - started 2011
5.  Green Baby Blanket - started 2011
6.  Pink Baby Blanket (this one has a fun story to it - remind me to tell it sometime) - started in 2009? 2010?
7.  Crochet Afghan (mauve) - started in 2004? 2005?
8.  Knit Afghan - started in 2007?
9.  Crochet Baby Blanket - started in 2003? 2004?
10.  Green Vest - started in 2007? 2008?
11.  Thrummed Mittens - started in 2011
12.  Green - or were they blue? - socks - no idea when I started these
13.  "Poodle" scarf - no idea when I started this


S.O.S. is right.  I'm swimming (sinking?) in SOs!


As you can see, I am actually well on my way to finishing 9 objets d'art by the end of March.  I just have to get moving on all my WIPs (works in progress)!  


Which should come first?  What do you think, first in, first out (FIFO)?  Last in, first out (LIFO)?


(That was shout-out to all my accounting peeps out there)


So hopefully before I start ANYTHING NEW I will finish some of the pieces that have been sitting in various baskets and bins (packages, boxes, and bags), yearning for completion for, in some cases, nearly a decade.


Wow.  I am old.


Back to Missie's Wrist Warmers.  Remember how I told you I had a friend offer to barter with me for a pair of wrist warmers?  That was Missie.  She has perfect timing, because just this past Saturday I got an exciting little package in the mail from the Seed Savers Exchange in Decorah, IA.  Yes, that Decorah.  It contained the following:

One packet of Green Husk Tomatillo seeds:

One packet of Flame Lettuce seeds:

One packet of Grandpa Admire's Lettuce seeds:

One packet of Beam's Yellow Pear Tomato seeds:

(which I am SO excited to try)


AND


(my favorite)


One packet of Isis Candy Cherry Tomato seeds:

Just looking at this picture takes me back to my childhood.  I cannot tell you the last time I had a legit cherry tomato.  For years and years and years I've had grape tomatoes, which are fine.  They're ok.  But they do not, by any means, compare to home-grown cherry tomatoes.  I CAN'T WAIT for the harvest!!!


So today, after weaving in all the ends, and attaching a cute little label, I mailed off Missie's Wrist Warmers in exchange:

If you look closely you'll see that my nom de plume has replaced my Christian name.  It's magic!

Yes, I'm shamelessly flashing the *bling*.  Diamonds are, in my case, a girl's very close friend - so close, in fact that I am rarely separated from them.  Only when they are sitting in the cleaning solution while I shower.  If I am getting clean, my diamonds should also get clean.


Diamonds ... diamonds ... hmm.  Diamonds.  Sounds like a segue to me:

I used a diamond pattern in Missie's Wrist Warmers, because it's pretty.

Congratulations, Missie, it's twins!


The palms are exactly identical to the backs:

For simplicity's sake.  Both to the knitter and the wearer.  Who wants to fumble around trying to figure out which is left and which is right?  In this case, they're both right.


(See what I did there?)


If I could go back and change one thing, after looking at these photos, I'd alter the thumb somehow.  Not sure what I could do differently ... it just looks very bulky.


If I could change two things, I'd reconfigure the gussets.  As much as I like the seed/British moss stitch, I think if I had done the entire gusset in stockinette it would have looked more ... tailored.


I hope Missie likes them.  I'll give a full report when I hear!  I'll also give a full report on the upcoming veggie crop.  Yay!


Mrs. Pi