Vertigo, Psycho, You Name It
August 9, 2005
Well, I’m home! The doors shut so plumbly, the hot water comes in less than ten minutes, the giant slugs bigger than my thumb are nowhere to be seen. Keep Manhattan–just give me the suburban Nashville lifestyle, dahlink.
So much to tell!
Let’s review the State Fair Knitting situation. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this is taking so long. Other, nobler knitters have cranked Kiris and Taros and needle-felted coffee cups, yea have already won blue ribbons, and here I am, two-rows-forward-one-row-back, for weeks at a time.
For those who weren’t with us back in 1984 when I started this thing, here’s what I’m making as my entry in the Tennessee State Fair:
It’s in a girl’s size 4. Like, you could put this thing on a small poodle. Shetland wools, knitted on size 3s.
I read somewhere that Alfred Hitchcock delighted in the initial creation of his movies. He had a ritual: he would take a single sheet of foolscap. (Why it had to be foolscap and not just a plain old Big Piece of Paper, I don’t know–but that’s why he’s Hitchcock and I’m a renter of Hitchcock.) He wrote the simple, straightforward premise of the movie, then added levels of detail around it. The fun for him was in in sketching out the entire movie right there on a single page. But he disliked the actual filming–pure tedium compared to that initial creative process.
Oh, Mr. Hitchcock, I know just what you’re talking about. The actual filming, it is hell.
The truth is, I’m just too spacey at the moment to remember to knit the correct number of rows in each color, or I forget to decrease, or I can’t seem to find two solid hours of knitting to crank this thing out. Ten minutes here and there haven’t added up to much this summer.
So, as my first act of independence after spending the summer 24/7 with the fellas, I abandoned ship and headed to Angel Hair Yarn to crank out the last sleeve.
Hardcore Technical Blabbing
The first sleeve of Fern just about killed me–I followed Ann Budd’s pattern for a crewneck cardigan set-in sleeve, but the cap came out way too shallow. I know not why it didn’t work. It simply did not. In addition, I couldn’t get my stripes to match up with the front and back pieces of the sweater. I finally recalculated the thing and got something that sort of resembles a sleeve. I don’t promise that the stripes will line up when the time comes. We’ll just call that the wabi sabi part.
Yet to do:
Slightly Stretched Buttonhole Bands: 2 (Yech! I hate these!)
Seams: 4 (The easiest bit of finishing, she said hopefully)
Three-needle Bind Off: 2 shoulders (A total of 32 stitches, but such drama)
Collar: 1 (Is hot glue allowed in a state fair knitting entry?)
Weaving in of Ends: 256 (My most Kaylike moment to date)
Embroidering of fiddleheads: 30 (Or however many time and patience allows)
Buttons: 8 (Guaranteed to be sewn on in the parking lot outside the Creative Arts Building at the Tennessee State Fairgrounds on the afternoon of August 31)
I need yer advice:
While at Angel Hair Yarn Co. . . . A Knitting Photo Safari
I had a rare sighting of Rowans. It’s just not that often that a person catches sight of a pure, perfect Rowan in the field. Sure, it’s easy to see them in the magazine, or as a store sample, but I managed to glimpse not one but two free-range, human-crafted Rowans. A Beaded Rowan. An Intarsia Rowan.
Here are Allison and Nan, who make alarmingly beautiful models for their own creations.
Allison’s Valpo is done in Cotton Glace, a real polkadotty dessert with of-the-moment bell sleeves.
Nan’s Chicago (from the current Rowan 37, in Rowan Calmer) is waiting for
the FIFTY-SEVEN knitted flowers to be added along the collar. What you can’t see are the hundreds of tiny beads all over the sweater. A confection! Knitting insanity! And Kay, Allison just happened to be toting a Rowan jean jacket in Calmer. I’m not saying she was showing off or anything, but . . .
Very inspiring to see knitters dive in, go for it, and come up with the pearls of knitting perfection.
The fambly and I are coming to Los Angeles next Monday for a few days to see Hubbo’s brother’s new baby girl. (And if the baby doesn’t arrive soon, we may be there for the birth!) I’d be grateful for suggestions about a great place to sneak away for some knitting. If anybody’s up for a visit, please let me know. I’ll tell you all about the La Brea Tar Pits.