Feral Knitter

You Cannot Have Too Many Charts!

Look what I found at Weaving Works last week:

Fair Isle Knitting Patterns. This 90-page spiral-bound book by Mary Macgregor is a collection of some of the charts that were collected by Robert Williamson. I'd heard about this book but had not run across a copy until I was in Seattle for a memorial service for my great-aunt Esther.

I'm a bit frustrated at the lack of specificity about the contents: The book's short introduction does not mention when Mr Williamson collected these patterns (perhaps the 1930s); the author relates that she was able to study some 60 pages of the collected patterns--a few of these are reproduced in their original 2-color stencilled format--but it's also unclear whether the book includes all the patterns in those 60 pages or a selection. I would have liked to have been told why Mr Williamson collected these patterns--were they published? when? did he gather them for personal use (but then why use a stencil)? At any rate, many of these patterns are new to me and I think this is a wonderful reference for Fair Isle knitters.

Fair Isle Knitting Patterns. Mary Macgregor. 2009. ISBN 978 1904746409 The Shetland Times Ltd. $27.95 or thereabouts

Making Things by Hand

Here are the dachsund andirons my great-grandfather made that I referenced in the previous post. Aren't they wonderful?

I appreciate things made by hand. At the Fair Isle Design Workshop earlier this month, Stephannie Tallent (Ravelry: StephCat) gave me these lovely Venetian glass stitch markers:

They are not only good looking--they are also very well made. I have a growing assortment of handmade markers that give me great pleasure--I remember every person who made them while I'm knitting along.

The value of making things has been receiving more public attention recently with the publication of Shop Class as Soul Craft, by Matthew Crawford. Here's the Publisher's Weekly Starred Review:

Philosopher and motorcycle repair-shop owner Crawford extols the value of making and fixing things in this masterful paean to what he calls “manual competence,” the ability to work with one’s hands. According to the author, our alienation from how our possessions are made and how they work takes many forms: the decline of shop class, the design of goods whose workings cannot be accessed by users (such as recent Mercedes models built without oil dipsticks) and the general disdain with which we regard the trades in our emerging “information economy.” Unlike today’s “knowledge worker,” whose work is often so abstract that standards of excellence cannot exist in many fields (consider corporate executives awarded bonuses as their companies sink into bankruptcy), the person who works with his or her hands submits to standards inherent in the work itself: the lights either turn on or they don’t, the toilet flushes or it doesn’t, the motorcycle roars or sputters. With wit and humor, the author deftly mixes the details of his own experience as a tradesman and then proprietor of a motorcycle repair shop with more philosophical considerations.

Sounds like a book of interest to any feral knitter--it's going on my birthday list for sure!

Endless Knitting

Ahhh. Endless knitting. This could conjure up pictures of sandy white beaches, cool breezes, a frosty drink and all the time in the world to knit. Paradise.

Sadly, "endless knitting" also describes the situation I find myself in right now: the sleeves and body of my top-down yoke sweater.

Still, knitting is happening, although progress is hard to discern:

 

Last weekend we drove out to Point Reyes, north of San Francisco--I was struck by the loveliness of some ceanothus:

 

This reminds me of the sweater I'm working on! I can't get away from it no matter how hard I try....

The Family Rug

My mother has decided to move to a retirement home/assisted living place. Although she is still fully capable of living on her own, her recent hospitalization made her realize that it was time to build some stronger support structures around her. Her plan requires that she get rid of a lot of "stuff," so she sent me home with a car full of family pieces: old photos, andirons made by my great-grandfather in the shape of the family dachsund, an antique blanket chest, some glasses, and the family rug.

This very personal rug was made by mother in 1976--she filled the large (31.5" x 68") needlepoint rug with pictures of different things important to our family:

 

Our house and signposts of places my parents had travelled.

 

My father collected old mining stock certificates (they had no value but were often small works of the engraver's art) and my mother collected hatpin holders.

  

My sister appears here as a sun (but we can't remember why) and I show up as a quilted heart because I used to make quilts

 

Our family trips nearly always involved a beach, and we collected shells and fossils wherever we were; our backyard garden was a small retreat, and the Japanese maple played a starring role

 

Our two wonderful dogs--Tillie and Bogart--and the simple sailboat that we raced each summer on Lake Washington.

This rug was laid at the end of the hallway near the back door--it was not treated like a museum piece, and the wear and stains are obvious. By when my sister and I were dividing up the things mom didn't want to take with her, it was the Black Bench--built by my great-uncle Norman in high school shop class (must have been around 1926)--and the family rug that we cared about, even though they had the least commercial value. Another example of how important it is to personalize the work of our hands, whether sweaters or rugs or benches!

Always Learning

It’s been said that the four most dangerous words in the English language are “I already know that.” These words create a mental barrier that shuts you off from any additional information you might receive by listening. More importantly, saying “I already know that” closes the door on new experiences that could enrich your life and your art.
    ~Alyson Stanfield

Every workshop that I lead is a new experience, and I always learn a lot. Color is such a broad subject that each student produces swatches that are wonderfully unique.

 

 

 

 

 

 

At times I have thought that the workshops would go more smoothly if I set more limits--you must work with this motif, you may only use 5 colors, ad nauseam--but I just love seeing the wildly different products that are produced when people are urged to choose their own patterns and their own colors!

And for something different, here's a current picture of my sweet daughter:

Fearless Fair Islers Ravelry Group

A quick announcement: two of the students (Nancy and Marie) have set up a Ravelry group--Fearless Fair Islers. This is a place to share photos of swatches and finished items (that's right, I said FINISHED ITEMS! It is possible.), ask questions, and offer support.  Here's the official welcome notice:

Every group needs a standard welcome thread; so this is it!

I sit here, taking a break from knitting my motif swatch to write this message. If you’re a fan of Janine’s method of designing fair isle sweaters, or even if you just design fair isle sweaters your own way; welcome to the group!

Some ideas for things to discuss in this group (not limited to this list, feel free to expand):

• Designing fair isle colors - techniques, how to’s, questions and problems
• Best yarn for the job (shetland, merino - what do you like to knit with)
• How to get your design stash increased without breaking the bank
• How much of each yarn to buy
• What stitch pattern books do you love and can’t live without
• Post pictures of your speed swatches
• Post pictures of your motif swatches
• Talk about how great Janine’s classes are
• Finish a sweater? Tell us about it
• Know of a class with Janine nearby? Post it!
• Knitting Techniques; steeking, creating charts (hint - use Knit Visualizer!), how do you carry your yarns (two hands, one hand, pick up and drop?)

The list is endless - feel free to talk about anything even remotely related to fair isle and Janine’s class. :)

Hope to see you there!

Disoriented

I am just purely annoyed by those posts that begin, "I'm sorry it's been so long since I posted--you probably thought I'd dropped off the face of the earth."

Ahem. My judgments inevitably turn against me. Being away from home, being abnormally hot (Seattle is breaking heat records right and left), and being camera-less (because I seem to have lost mine) has made me quiet. Plus, I hurt my wrist on the drive from Berkeley to Seattle and have had to curtail my knitting--the ostensible subject of this blog.

My mother's health has bounced back pretty well--I don't think we've spent this much time together (it's been 2 weeks) since I was in my 20s. Trust me, that was a while ago!  

I enjoyed the Color in Fair Isle workshop at Village Yarn & Tea immensely--the students were game to try different approaches and I hope they had as much fun as I did.

And I bought a new camera so I can take photos of the 3-day Design a Fair Isle Garment workshop that starts tomorrow.

I'll be baaaaacccccckkkkk!