Easing Into It

Yesterday evening I actually started knitting the pattern I'm creating. During the day, in addition to a trip to the library and grocery store -- and some just plain goofing off -- Carl and I talked about the button band he wants, the number of cables he likes, and the kind of ribbing that looks best with this yarn. Going back to my first source, Knitwear Design Workshop, I refigured the sleeve calculations; I'm not entirely sure which is correct, but the calculations from KDW look better to me (I saved the other ones just in case). I figured out that because this is a cardigan and because it will have a band all around the neck, I don't need to (dare I say, shouldn't?) bind off stitches for the back of the neck, as long as I do a 3-needle bind-off.

Toward the end of the afternoon, I started working on the v-neck that Carl wants. But when I started calculating, I couldn't visualize what the numbers were telling me. It was looking to me like I was going to choke the man. And while there are times when I feel like throttling him, I don't want to do it with a sweater, especially not one I will have put so much work into.

So, instead of sitting at my desk staring at my calculator and notes, I decided to pick up the needles and yarn. Most of the books and patterns suggest starting with the back because it will be easier to work out gauge issues and get into the rhythm of the pattern. Never one to take the easy way out, I decided to start with the front, where my trouble is.

The first few inches, with a 1.5" band to come.

Definitely the right decision. I have had to rip out the first few inches four times now, but I think I have finally made the right adjustments to my calculations. There were two things I wasn't taking into account. First, cables tighten up the gauge more than I thought, despite what my cable gauge swatch says. Second, my husband has a bit more ... um ... padding in front than I realized when I measured him. I think I measured all around that part, but I didn't actually include it. So, I've now added a few inches around and it finally looks like the front will work. More ease, please!

Back to Learning

So...it's been a while.

I really thought I was going to keep this blog going on a regular basis, but life and work got in the way. This past semester has been hard time-wise. During the last month, I was working 10-12 hours/day almost every day, just to keep up. But I'll save that rant for another time. Suffice it to say that I have taken the week between Christmas and New Year's off. Completely. I have not turned on my work computer, nor will I check my work email. The academic books are out of sight. And in my sight....

Yarn! I'm back to designing Carl's sweater.

I began day before yesterday by reading the first part of Sweater Design in Plain English, and I finished reading up to the working patterns yesterday morning. The book explains most things very well, but there are parts that simply require me to try them before I will figure them out.

So out came the paper and colored pencils and tape measure and calculator and reading glasses. Carl was measured again and again. And at random times mid-calculation, measured again, just for good measure.

I knitted another couple of swatches, one because I needed to find out what kind ribbing was going to work best with this yarn, and the other because I foolishly didn't write down how I made the cable that Carl liked. I also used the second swatch to figure out how to make the cable twist to the right and left so that I can create them leaning in different directions depending on the side of his body.

Yesterday, I worked out most of the back and the sleeve patterns, at least I think so. The back was easy. I measured the gauge for the stockinette stitch that I'll be using on the back and multiplied it by the number of inches. Ribbing was the ribbing gauge times 10% less than the number of stitches across the wide part of the back. I wasn't sure how to deal with the bind off for the arms until I dealt with the sleeves--and I'm still not sure how I figured that one out. I really need to remember and make a note for the next time. I haven't dealt with the neckline yet, but I will later today or tomorrow.

The sleeve was OMG. The bottom was relatively easy -- the same gauge multiplied by the number of inches for the base and ribbing at 10% fewer stitches. Got it. And the measurement at the widest point was easy: make Carl stand up and get measured again. And the math for figuring out the increases from one to the other wasn't bad. Figuring out the sleeve cap made me crazy. The chapter where Sweater Design explains sleeve design also explains designing for "Big and Beautiful people," and it conflates the two. I really could have used some instruction on designing for my normal-sized guy (ok, he's short, but he's not heavy) before adding the what-if parts. I intend to spend some time online and looking at a couple of other resources I have to check this work. I'm not yet convinced that I have it right.

And, of course, I expect as I work on the front, including the neckline, I'll have to make adjustments to both the back and sleeve. Back to fun-work!

Swatching Stage Two

I'm learning a lot by making swatches. I already understood the need to check the gauge and things like that--that's not new for me. But what I'm learning while I'm trying to design this sweater is the value of using the swatches to try out different ideas. At the moment, I have three swatches that have survived the initial testing phase.

I tried a couple of different kinds of cables, including the braid here with only two stitches instead of three in the cables, and a simple 3-3 divide for a cable that looks like the ones on the hat half way down this page.

The two-stitch braid was supposed to be a more "delicate" version of this one, but honestly, it was only delicate the way that thirteen and fourteen year olds can appear when their bodies start stretching unevenly. I didn't save that swatch; I didn't even show it to Carl.

Carl didn't like the simple 3-3 divided cable; he said it was too boring.

So in these swatches, I have been playing with needle size and the number of cables I could include in a panel. The top swatch, the first one I did, was done on size 11 needles. It's really too loose, and I'll be ripping that one out. The middle swatch, to the left here, was done on size 10s. The fabric feels nice, but still a bit loose. It might work, though, so I'm going to wash this one to see how it comes out.


At this point, I think both Carl and I are favoring the bottom one, done with size 9 needles. The fabric is a little stiff but not impossible, and this will be a cardigan. I don't know if I'll really be able to get two cables into the pattern when I complete the design, but I will try. When I hold this panel up against Carl right now, it's really about wide enough, but the cable would get cut short at the sleeve. I'll have to figure out how to avoid that in the pattern if I want to get two of them in the pattern. Unless there's a lot of shrinkage.

These will be the front of the sweater and each is nearly the width I expect the front panels will be ultimately. However, they haven't yet been washed, and I need to find out what the gauge looks like once they are. I also need to do two other swatches of just plain stockinette stitch, one size 10 and one size 9, so I can see how the gauge on the back of the sweater will work out. I should be able to do those later today or tomorrow.

I find my attitude toward all of this swatching interesting. I am the kind of person who resists waste, and in the past, I have considering swatching a potential waste of both yarn and time. If you look closely at these, you'll see that the bind-off edge is looped, not knotted and not cut, so I could rip it out. This temporary approach is how I have done swatching in the past, and once I determined that my gauge was in line with the pattern, it was frogging time. I have never washed a swatch before now. Now, I'm not only going to wash these two, I'm making two more, at least 8 inches wide each. But I don't see these as a waste of yarn or time. It's part of the learning, and I'm loving it.

I'm Back and Swatching

It's summer, so what am I doing? Playing with wool. Yes, this makes a lot of sense.

Spring semester was brutal, and I simply couldn't find time when I wasn't too exhausted to pick up this design project. The current stage takes thought and experimentation and some level of endurance. If someone had told me that I had to do one more thing I was going to scream.

Screaming time is over now, so I am ready with scrap paper in front of me and wool between my fingers. Today was spent figuring out what yarn I really have and doing my first swatch, as well as finding out what sweater elements my husband actually likes.

I bought the yarn from the Natick Community Organic Farm. It's made from sheep raised on the farm and spun in Maine; I'm not sure where the dyeing takes place. Based on wraps per inch, the yarn is probably "very bulky" but I'm treating it as just "bulky." It's a bit thicker than I want to be working with for this project, but do you have any idea how hard it is to find burgundy and gray variegated yarn in any weight, let alone worsted? This yarn has enough of the natural wool color in it that it counts as variegated, at least for Carl--not that you could tell from the photograph below.

So now I'm making swatches to give him a sense of what the sweater will look like and me a sense of what it will be like to knit up. My first swatch was done on size 11 needles with 3-stitch cables. I think it's too bulky, and I think Carl agrees. His *meh* response would be a fairly good indication.

To give you a sense of scale, this panel is wide enough to cover one side of the cardigan, about 8 1/2" wide. 

So the next step will be using size 10 needles to see if the fabric gets too stiff. I'll probably also do swatches with both three- and two-stitch cables to see which he likes better.

On Deaths

In the past few weeks, I've had to contend with a number of deaths--some old, some new.

I'll start with the old. On March 12th, 1990, Lee died. Technically my father through adoption, I now think of him as my stepfather or just "Lee." He was also my abuser for 13 years. Good riddance. That death isn't so hard to deal with.

On March 9th and 10th, 1997, my maternal grandparents, Edward and Evelyn Carl died. They died within twenty-four hours of each other of natural causes. Nana went first, followed by Papa. I still miss them both. Some other time, I'll write more about them.

Now the new. On February 26th, our dog, Jackjob, died. Jack was a 12- or 13-year-old German Shepard mix. We got him from a rescue; he'd been found wandering the median on Route 1 in Raleigh. Jack was friendly but his bark was ferocious--exactly the kind of dog I wanted with two adolescent girls in the house. He loved to play tug but would look at us like we were out of our minds if we tossed a ball for him to chase. "Excuse me. Did you mistake me for a retriever? Perhaps you need glasses."

Jack loved his walks. We picked him up from the rescue before he had been treated for heartworms; he got the treatment several weeks later. For those of you who don't know, after the treatment the dog has to stay sedentary for about six weeks as the heartworms die, decay, and are absorbed. Jack did not like being sedentary. At all. He had been getting walks for several weeks, and suddenly he was without them--and worse, locked in a crate most of the time. Not fair! Being a softy, I would sometimes let him out of his crate to wander the house, as long as he didn't get excited. Once, I did this and then forgot he was out. When I opened the back sliding glass door to put something on the deck, out he went! I called him and he ignored me, so I grabbed a handful of treats and his leash, hoping to catch him. As I ran out the door barefoot, I yelled to Carl to get the car--Jack loved rides almost as much as walks.

Jack wouldn't come when I called, and he wouldn't stop when I threw treats trying to get his attention. He would pause, teasing me into thinking he was going to wait, and let me get within about ten feet before he set off again. He took exactly the route we had been going for his daily walks. When he got the normal end of his walk, he stopped and wagged his tail at me, letting me catch up...finally. After he had had his walk. Carl pulled up at this point, and still wagging his tail, Jack got into the car.

We are missing Jack terribly. The way he would push his head under my feet as I was trying to get my socks and shoes on in the morning. The way he would wait until Carl came to bed before coming up because he knew he could get treats from Carl, but not from me. The way he would insist on watching any bones we gave him. The way he would stand in the entryway to greet anyone coming home. The way he would light up when Carl brought up a chicken from the freezer, and the way he absolutely could not be distracted when the chicken turned into a superchicken at Thanksgiving. The way he would blow his coat in February and October, never quite getting the hang of New England seasons. The way he would push against my chair so hard that if I didn't have my feet planted I'd end up across the room. The way he claimed the library, the only room on the first floor with carpeting. That's where we are keeping his ashes until we decide where to spread them.

And then one more. On March 8th or 9th, I'm not sure which, my internet friend, Christopher Marg died of a heart attack. He was only in his early 30s. I met him through World of Warcraft and had known him for about four years. I don't believe in exaggerating the positives of someone just because they are dead, but Christopher was a sweet man in many ways; online he was generous to a fault. And he got lost in the game no matter how many times he'd been there before. I actually got to have dinner with him when I visited where he lived in Minneapolis, which is where I found out that his lack of direction was not an in-game foible. Our ride home from dinner took a bit longer than anticipated because he had trouble figuring out how to get back to my hotel. I miss hearing his voice online and seeing his boomkin in my way in instances and raids.

This time of year was hard before these past few weeks. Now it's harder. I miss you, dear ones.

Derailed a Bit

This has been a rough week. Kids in physical and emotional pain. Dog difficulties. Oh, yeah...and then there's work. So this blog entry will not be about my knitting, which I have done nothing on this week, but instead about the rest of my life at the moment.

Oldest stepdaughter has been in and out of the hospital three times in the last week+ for stomach problems. Once for testing and twice because she was in too much pain. She's having trouble keeping anything solid down. The doctors have ruled out gall stones as the cause, but beyond that, we're waiting on test results.

Youngest stepson has been diagnosed with non-verbal learning disorder. This means that his verbal skills are off the charts, but his non-verbal skills are wimpy. Think Hulk and Bruce Banner. He has trouble processing chaotic situations, organizing any aspect of his life, and reading social cues, including facial expressions. I always knew the boy loved words; I just didn't know that everything else was so overwhelming for him. He's handling it as well as I think he can, but he's skipped classes, and on Thursday he failed to go to the office when sent and failed to come home or tell us where he was. Add to this that he has a fascination with violence lately. We're trying to ratchet things down here until he sees his doctors on Tuesday.

Youngest stepdaughter told us this morning that she just found out a friend from high school died of cancer recently. I'm feeling for her as she's grieving and facing mortality. I think she needs lots of someones to hug her, and I hope she gathers her friends around her instead of trying to do this pain solo.

And Jack. Jack is a (roughly)12-13-year-old German Shepard mix we got from a shelter about 10 years ago. He's getting old, and for months now, he has had a tumor on his chest--almost certainly a fat tumor, which the vet said was likely, even without testing. It hasn't seemed to cause Jack any discomfort, but it would cost about $1500 to remove, which is more than we're going to be able to spend, particularly with six kids in need of various kinds of support. Besides, he can't stand the vet and is seriously depressed several days after just a bath. I'm not sure he'd survive surgery. This week, probably because he scratched it, the tumor started bleeding. It's also hot to the touch. So we're worrying. We know what the vet will tell us, but we're not going to have the tumor removed. And he's too active still to think about letting him go. So we'll deal.

Oh, yeah. And I'm up to a full page, two-columns and notes in the margins, of a to-do list for work.

So knitting and learning pattern design hasn't been on my mind this week. Here's hoping the coming week is better.

A Sense of Direction

Last year, I got a windfall. My mother had given me some birthday money, and I also received a $100 Amazon credit for some survey work I had done. I decided to use this money to flesh out my knitting library. I followed my usual process: reading reviews, checking candidates out of the library, reviewing them, and then purchasing the ones I thought had staying power.

The design book I chose was Knitwear Design Workshop: A Comprehensive Guide to Handknits by Shirley Paden. So far so good. It's a workbook, so it's not something I'm reading cover-to-cover. Instead, I'm figuring out how to use the book--a tool like my needles and stitch holders.

The first four chapters are the basics, and that's where I'm living now. In these chapters are dozens of charts and tables, as well as a set of silhouettes for making sketches and design notes. I'm not a paper-and-pen notebook kind of person, so I'm trying to figure out how to convert all this to the computer. The tables and text-based notes are easy; word processing and spreadsheets will do the trick, and I might try keeping all of this in OneNote, a program in my MS Office package that I'm liking more and more (I can't believe I'm writing that...).

I'm not as sure about the sketches. I have the ability to scan them in after I've done them, but unlike my daughter, I don't think I'm much of an artist (though maybe I'll add that to my things-I-want-to-learn list!). So I'm not sure what's going to be helpful here. I need the silhouettes for making notes on, but I'd love to find a way to put my notes on the silhouettes in electronic form. Maybe Publisher is my answer. I'll be playing with that next week, I expect.

So tonight, I am creating spreadsheets for measurements and notes. My first project is going to be a sweater for Carl. We've been married for more than five years, so the boyfriend rule no longer applies. (For those who don't know, the rule is that you cannot knit a sweater for a boyfriend; if you do, by the time you're done, he won't be your boyfriend any more, and he'll probably keep the sweater anyway!) I'll write more about the actual sweater in the next post.

Beginning in the Middle

My church has a part of the service called "Joys and Concerns," where anyone can get up and talk (briefly) about what's going on in their lives. When I turned 45, I told the congregation that the first half of my life had been rough--very rough--and that I was hoping the second half would be better. Several older women came up to me after the service and assured me, with knowing looks, that it would be.

I decided at that birthday, now almost a year and a half past, that I wasn't going to wait to see. I was going to make it better. It's taken me that year-plus to define what this process would mean: in a word, it's learning. I'm an educator by trade and by calling, and what I love most is the learning that goes on in and around me. When I teach new courses or redesign old ones, I get so enthusiastic about what I'm learning and what I get to teach.

So in this blog, and in my second half, I'm actively bringing this learning to the rest of my life.

Last year, I learned how to eat. In January 2010, I joined WeightWatchers online, and I have lost about 50 pounds. I feel better and I look better, and I am even wearing some medium(!)-sized clothing. I haven't seen this weight in about ten or twelve years. I'm not done losing weight (and I'm sure I'll have more to say on the process later), but I believe I have spent a successful year learning about food and eating.

Now it's time for a new learning adventure. This year, I'm going to learn to knit the way I really want to. I already know how to put needles together and make articles of clothing. I've done afghans and shawls and baby blankets and scarves and hats and mittens and socks and sweaters and iPod cases. This year, I want to learn to design knitwear--to make truly customized pieces.

This blog is where I'm going to chronicle this learning adventure, including all the inevitable missteps and celebrations. Those of you who join me here, welcome!