Overlooked my Knitting

Poem 748

Autumn—overlooked my Knitting—
Dyes—said He—have I—
Could disparage a Flamingo—
Show Me them—said I—

Cochineal—I chose—for deeming
It resemble Thee—
And the little Border—Dusker—
For resembling Me—

~Emily Dickinson




My knitting has not gotten much attention lately, due to some pretty enormous preparation for company! One of the interesting things about cleaning, though, is that you find things you'd "put somewhere" and forgotten about. In my case, what I found was a stack of knitting booklets attached by ribbon to a Christmas card, from a friend who has passed away. It was bittersweet to find these here, under a mass of papers on the dining-room table. Obviously, when these first arrived, I couldn't face the thought of losing my friend and after shedding tears just put the package and card away. Now that two years have passed, I can look at these thoughtful treasures with fond and happy memories.



My friend was a great knitter. She was one who made those elaborate knitted flower afghans that you see in vintage booklets and wonder "who would ever be able to make that!?". It was nothing to her. She was a nurse and enjoyed the challenge that kept her mind sharp during the long dark watches of the night shift.



Her favorite knits were intricately cabled Irish sweaters in cream yarn. She made these quickly and easily and gave them away as soon as they were finished. Almost every woman and man she knew had one of her cardigans.



Except me. To me, she gave her pattern books and said "Make these and remember me."

The comforts of an old house

In Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility, when the Dashwoods move from their estate to their country house, Barton Cottage, there is a definite sense that they're giving up comfort and ease and warmth in exchange for independence. The stone walls, though plastered, capture the chilling rain and winter's penetrating icy winds. You can see that realization in their faces when they view the cottage for the first time:



One of the most telling moments is when the older sisters climb into bed the first evening. The wind is blowing, there are no fires in the bedrooms, and the bed covers are sturdy but sparse. Marianne says to Elinor, "Your feet are cold!" and Elinor climbs out again with a sigh to pull on stockings.



In Sense and Sensibility, the cold rains are a symbol of emotional abandon - dramatic, romantic, a wild release - but with possible devastating consequences. The inevitable sense of cold, chilling to the bone, is palpable, even in Marianne's one bare foot when Willoughby carries her home in the rain. Cold feet again!



I can relate to this. Here in my old, cold house, I love the cosy feeling when it rains outside, but even a summer rain can chill the house. I've turned to traditional methods of keeping warm - knitted socks, shawls, night-caps, and fires in the fireplace. My friends ask for my knitted bedsocks and night caps as gifts all the time, and I've started on some for Christmas presents already.

Here is a new pattern, just finished:

Sensibility Bed Socks







So soft and warm - and comfortable!

The Lace and Mohair

There has been quite a span of non-bloggery lately, not because I had nothing to blog about, but because the knits I did have to show are.... you guessed it - either sample knits for publication or Christmas presents. I always start Christmas knitting in August and this year I started in July. The reason for this Early Holiday-making is The Loopy Ewe Summer Camp. Each 4-week period we have a new knitting challenge that results in a lovely finished project. One month I did two projects in the 4-week challenge! There is one month left, that starts on the 15th of August, so right now I'm in hiatus. I also finished up the lovely vintage item I was knitting for A Stitch in Time II and mailed it off to the publisher. I think you will be very pleased with this second volume of vintage knits. What I've seen of it is gorgeous!

So now I'm using this space of time to finish up some WIPs. Way back in March, a friend sent my the latest Debbie Bliss magazine for a birthday present with a note that she's like the lacey capelet sweater on the cover. It's now winging its way to her in Florida - finished, blocked, and with a pretty hand-blown glass button at the throat.



To tell you the truth, I don't like Debbie Bliss patterns. Don't get me wrong - her designs are beautiful and I often want the have the finished project, but its the part in between the wanting and having that's the problem - the actual knitting.



There are often errors, and there are often confused descriptions, almost as if the patterns are written so intuitively that the knitter has to be in the mind of the designer to get it right. Even when patterns are followed exactly, they often don't turn out like the picture of the project in the book. This could be the fault of the stylist. Stylists do pull in the waist with a clip or tighten a neck seam to lift the neckline - or anything that makes the photo shoot look better. But we can't know those invisible tricks - we can only trust that if we follow the pattern it will look like the photo paired with it.

Sure - my capelet looks like the photo seen from afar, but it is not circular and it is much shorter than shown on the model. Still, my friend is model-thin so I trust that it will fit her.



Now I'm working on another Christmas gift and then on the 15th I'll start my last Camp project. If I finish ALL of the Camp projects I win a skein of Wollmeise!