Feral Knitter

Balance

Half the socks that were lurking on the needles are finished.

I have been back in Seattle longer than I lived in Berkeley.

More people are behind me than in front of me on the Ravelry waiting list.

And I have 160 more balls of Shetland yarn! (Balance in yarn is not like balance in other arenas--MORE is BALANCED!) I bought the entire range of Jamieson's Spindrift yarn for the worshop I'll be teaching at Churchmouse Yarns on Bainbridge Island in November ("Personalized Fair Isle: Choosing the Colors You Love"). Take a look:

I ordered the yarn from Two Swans Yarns. It was arranged in the box in lovely color arrangements, which I have ravaged for my own pleasure--and these photos.

And Gingko moved into the dorm at the University of Washington yesterday, capping a hectic few days between hearing that she had a place and the assigned moving-in time. I am, predictably, teary eyed at her absence and relieved that she is grown enough to begin an independent life. Balance! 

Dance with Color

I've been feeling a little lackluster recently--perhaps you have noticed?

Although I love the Near Solstice Shawl (also known as the Birddancing Shawl) with a quiet little passion, it remains what it was destined to be: purely and consistently white. Despite the emergence of the dancing bird feet in the pattern, it remains (as I just said) white. I can hardly come to you readers with a regular update ("I just finished another 2,104 stitches! They are all white lace, scrunched up on the needles!!!").

And although I had set the goal of clearing out the absurdly large pile of partially finished socks found in little heaps everywhere in the house and car, and although this is a wonderfully cleansing, dutiful, and puritanically upright goal, it is hardly the thing to write a song of life to. ("I've completed two of the pairs of socks! Move forward 10 needles. I found another half-finished pair in the closet--move back 5 needles. I've gotten to the end of the ball and have 3 inches of toe to finish. Stab yourself with one of the dpn's.") See what I mean? Not to mention the fact that I have a Sock Fairy who delights in starting socks while I'm distracted.

Last week, I realized I was in a true danger zone: I bought a copy of Martha Stewart Living!

Now don't get me wrong, I have nothing against Martha Stewart or her beautifully photographed magazine.

But when I buy one, what I am really buying into is a belief that--if I could only get my world put into shape, I would feel wonderful. Things would get easier; answers would come quickly, with a certainty I rarely feel; I would never be judged as wanting in any way.

The sense that there is One True Answer for any given problem crashed upon me like a tidal wave earlier this month when my car was totalled. Trying to figure out how best to add a new car to our bi-state family nearly pulled me out into the rip tide (to carry this little analogy further). Buy in Seattle? Buy in Berkeley? New car? Used car? What kind of car? What can we afford? What should we pay the seller? Oh my gosh, were we patsies? Did we get a good deal that we could sleep well about? And how to get the car where it should be, whether Berkeley or Seattle?

I'm still second-guessing every single decision we made, and that kind of shame over the sense of not living up to whatever is coloring my world.

What should a Feral Knitter do when she starts to look for certainties?

Dance with color, that's what I'm thinking. Feral knitting is all about the recognition that there is no one right answer--there are millions of choices, and the process is messy and non-linear, and despite color wheels and color theories and books galore, the only judge of "rightness" is the knitter's own delight.

In Which I Answer a Pressing Question

I know you all want to know: What do you see when you fall off the face of the Earth?

Yes, you have every right to expect that I would have the answer to this age-old question. After all, it would appear that I must have taken just such a fall and have been tumbling through thin atmosphere for the last couple of weeks.

Sorry, nothing quite so interesting, my dears. I have been in California visiting my sweetie pie and attending to a host of life problems. Most of my story would sound like this: whine whine whine. I'm sure you have your own lists of life's irritations, so I won't bore you. I was just grumpy, tired, overwhelmed and out of sorts. At any rate, I saw this bumper sticker that I like a lot:

And we got a much-needed shed in the back yard:

While packing for the trip, I found yet another pair of partially finished socks and five #1 needles. I am at a loss to explain how it is that I seem to knit and knit and knit and yet the unfinished sock level appears constant.

That is, I WAS unable to explain it until I chanced upon the Sock Fairy, who apparently fell asleep before hiding the evidence:

(The sock yarn is clutched between his legs, if you can't see it.) Case solved.

And I apologize for not writing to any of you fine readers who wrote me. I do like hearing from you, but, when you are not on the face of the Earth, it's hard to get up the energy to reply. You are appreciated! 

Regularly scheduled programming will begin again shortly.

Fair Isle Color Workshop Announcement

I am very pleased to announce that I will be teaching a two-part workshop on choosing colors for Fair Isle knitting at Churchmouse Yarns & Teas on Bainbridge Island, a short ferry ride from downtown Seattle, in November and December. Here's the class description:

Personalized Fair Isle: Choosing the Colors You Love

Saturday 11:30am-6:30pm 11/17 and Sunday 1:00-4:00pm 12/2 with Janine Bajus

Janine Bajus (a.k.a. Feral Knitter, beloved by bloggers) studied Fair Isle knitting with Sandy Blue and Meg Swansen—and never looked back. The color, the rhythm, the traditions, all hold her in their thrall. She has become a sought-after expert on color and we’re excited to have her help us bring our color skills to the next level. Bring a Fair Isle pattern you’ve had your eye on and a rough idea of a new color direction, plus some color pictures that inspire you. We’ll spend the morning on Fair Isle color sequencing, break for an hour, and spend the afternoon playing with colors and starting to swatch. At our follow-up session, bring all your swatches and questions for feedback and, you guessed it, more swatching (it’s like coloring, only better)! Basic two-color stranded skills required.*

Maximum: 8 students $120 (materials fee for swatching yarn included) (2 sessions; 9 hours)

To register for classes, please stop by the shop or call 206.780.2686

So, if you fell in love with Eunny Jang's Autumn Rose sweater, for example, but you look a million times better in clear blues, come join us for a free-spirited exploration of color and how to make it work for you! This workshop is also suitable for those who want to design a garment from scratch--we will not take class time to discuss design, however, but you can bring your own motifs to swatch.

* Karen Alfke, a talented and experienced teacher and designer, will be teaching a Fair Isle techniques class at Churchmouse for those who want to learn--check the brochure for more information.