Here's One I Made Earlier - Part II

So, the merriment continues. The mulled wine flows. A bewildering array of canapes and snacks appear, whilst our amazing host Kelly tends to an impressive vat of sausage stew.

Kerry arrives bearing several kilos of sauerkraut and is rewarded with this:

This necklace/headband multi-tasking effort turns out to have been a stroke of luck - Kelly is allergic to wool! Something of an oversight on my part. Fortunately, with her hair protecting her, she reckons it's safe to wear it as a headband and we're all quite pleased with the general look - suits her, no?

Whilst Kelly deals with feeding the five thousand, her gift (a buttoned scarf) is adopted by some of the others and Seb is graciously persuaded to model it:

A task he executes with a charming debonnair attitude and a helpful gesture towards the festive backdrop.

It is at this point my friends become a little over-enthusiastic. I should first explain that each gift had a little card enclosed - I wanted a custom gift tag to make my efforts look a little more polished, plus it's a handy way of passing on the address of this blog and including some simple care instructions - and Kelly suggested featuring the cards so that the photos could be used for 'marketing' purposes. Helpful and obliging chap that he is, Seb immediately launched his own ad campaign for Hoxton Handmade:

At least it proves that this scarf is nothing if not versatile. Meanwhile Seb's charming wife Daisy (who is currently knitting a pair of bootees and therefore gets extra credit) decides to get in on the scarf action:

And very lovely she looks too.

I then realise I do not have a photo of the scarf with its intended owner, and hunt Kelly down in the kitchen. Having discovered it's tricky to balance a small piece of cardboard on a knitted item whilst you are wearing it, Kelly has a masterstroke idea:

Although I'm starting to suspect the casual observer may assume we're advertising something for Amnesty International. Or Jamie Oliver (loving that apron).

Taking up the gauntlet, Kate manages to model a fantastic new look for the headband and I become quite proud of what you can do with an oversized i-cord:

At which point the wonderful Kate P. decides it's high time she headed home (and who can blame her). I manage to catch her modeling her new cowl just in time:

So the woollens are keeping everyone warm (both indoors and out), Daisy and Kerry are knitting away and may even pop along to the Hoxton knitting group in the New Year, Kelly is my new marketing manager (for what, exactly, we haven't quite decided), and everyone's keen to spread the Hoxton Handmade.

And me? Well, I have the loveliest friends in all the world.

Here's One I Made Earlier - Part 1

Someone said to me the other day that I would have made a brilliant Blue Peter presenter. I think they meant this as a compliment (and, to be fair, I was helping to stick a gingerbread house together with melted sugar at the time). So, in the spirit of what may have been an unfulfilled destiny, here's one I made earlier:

(I admit I actually had fun wrapping all of these).

This was in preparation for a lovely Christmas dinner with a large group of friends, most of whom I've known since university and who kindly agreed to model their new woolens:

The lovely Jinty and Holly, and their new cowls. There was slight confusion when they opened them and for one horror-struck moment, Holly thought I had knitted her some sort of boob-tube. Clearly relieved, she kept it on for most of the evening, bless her, whilst her boyfriend declared it to be 'alright' (mustering some impressive enthusiasm I thought - maybe I should have gone with a boob-tube after all??). The girls then discovered there were no end of possibilities:

A handy ear-muffler, should one be required...

The fabulous Emily and her new Porom hat. Another Brooklyn Tweed winner.

A cheerfully festive Kate and her Garter Mittens, thanks to Ysolda Teague.

I should probably point out that these are the pictures that were taken early on in the festivities (i.e. before the mulled wine had done the rounds). Part II will follow shortly, with the mulled wine flowing freely, where my pals hit upon some creative marketing ideas for Hoxton Handmade....

Surrendering to Mr Pitt

Yes, I confess. I have caved. I am a lily-livered, cheese-eating surrender-monkey (even though I'm not entirely sure what that is) who is knitting this:

To explain: I have two knitting rules. Well, not so much rules as guidelines, which are specifically designed to avoid becoming Crazy Knitting Woman and which probably don't fulfill this purpose but nevertheless, there they are: no cats and no socks.

Now, before I incur the wrath of perfectly lovely cat-owning sock-knitters everywhere, I should be clear that I have absolutely nothing against knitters who knit socks; who are members of sock clubs; who love socks. I just felt that a line had to be drawn somewhere and it might as well be at socks. I buy cotton socks that serve me well, I have never felt the need to knit my own.

(However, the cat thing is an entirely different matter. I am not a cat person. I do not trust them. They think. They plot. They are entirely too self sufficient than any pet has a right to be. Again, this is simply a personal and not-entirely-logical prejudice. I live alone. I knit. I own 3 teapots. I cannot have a cat or I might as well bypass the next 60 years and become a grandma now).

Where my narrow-minded and stereotyped thinking gets into trouble is when trying to find a knitted Christmas gift for certain male members of my family. They are tricky and the annoying fact is that a good pair of socks might just solve the yuletide problem. Even the most deeply seated beliefs must be open to question, interpretation and flat out abandonment when confronted with new information or a change in circumstances (except for the cats, of course).

So I am knitting socks.

These are Mr Pitts socks, in a nice simple rib pattern and so far...Well. They are not a disaster. They require 3 skeins of Koigu and I only have 2 in each colour, hence the colour-combo. They are meant to be a size 10 but I'm working to a looser gauge to cover a bigger foot. They're looking enormous but I think it's safer for them to be a bit big than a bit tight. I have never attempted socks before, so I'm simply following the pattern and trusting it to make sense somehow. Which, in a comforting affirmation in the power of blind faith, appears to be working. Now I just have to hope they fit...

A Greek Tragedy

Well, it's defintely a Monday morning. And I was right that the gods would remind me of my place.

Here is the first half of Ysolda's Garter Mittens, knitted in a couple of hours yesterday afternoon and a delightful pattern to follow:

Aren't they pretty? And seamless and cleverly constructed and I was really rather chuffed about the whole effort. What fools we humans be.

Now, to complete said mittens requires grafting garter stitch, which I have never attempted before (you can probably see where this is going). Following some handy online tutorials, I thought I had mastered the basic technique. However. Although I succeeded in grafting every stitch, I didn't pull the whole thing tight as I went along (because I am a complete idiot). Attempting to smoothly pull the yarn through at the end was a disaster, leaving me with big loops in some places and tight bunching in others. Going along and doing it an inch at a time proved impossible. Resigning myself to undoing the grafting and simply starting all over again landed me neatly at catastrophe:

The problem is not losing the last couple of rows - I can just knit those again - it's losing stitches from what was a provisional cast on at the beginning. I guess technically, because they're live stitches, I could go back and knit the opening rows again as well. But the whole thing is becoming such a tangled mess (Rowan Felted Tweed is not a yarn sympathetic to my predicament) and stitches are dropping in all directions that I'd quite like to just set fire to it at this point.

So I have shouted and cursed and threatened inanimate objects and am left with a mitten that refuses to cooperate.

Time for a deep breath and a cup of tea before I start all over again from the beginning.

The ancient Greeks knew their stuff. Hubris. It'll get you every time.

Santa eat your heart out

The Elf Workshop is storming ahead in a blaze of woolly progress. I've finished another 3 Christmas presents in the last 24 hours, and can therefore be found admiring a steadily growing pile of completed projects and munching on a chocolate brownie. Nice.

First up is my Secret Santa gift for the office. The lovely Isobel wears a lot of red and so will receive this:

Which is not as orange as it looks here, but a rich red Rowan Biggy Print. A basic slip stitch rib from a keyhole scarf pattern but the measurements given didn't work out, so it's now more of a collar that will have a chunky button sewn to it shortly.

Continuing the chunky theme, we then have the oh-so-speedy Colinette Point 5:


The simplest of cowls, since the yarn hardly needs further embellishment. The shade is called Slate, which should hopefully go with pretty much anything.

The Colinette continues with this fabulous colour - Lapis

9 twisted drop stitches and you just keep going til you run out of yarn. Brilliant way to get the most out of one skein and it works really well for thick and thin yarn that can be a bit awkward, so thanks to Ravelry for the pattern.

A little more sedate, but no less delicious, we have the Yarn Harlot's One Row Scarf:

Does what it says on the tin. Fantastically simple but it's reversible, flat and shows off a fancy yarn beautifully. This is the Manos del Uruguay Silk Blend I posted earlier and is possibly the most fabulous stuff to knit with in the history of the world. It's soft, it's silky, it weighs nothing - I'm in love. And it looks like one skein is going to create a scarf 12 feet long, but we'll see.

As with Wisp, I'm finding the same pattern can give you very different results with a simple yarn subsitution. This is the same scarf but in Koigu:

Again, it's lightweight and I know just the person to enjoy the rainbow colour scheme.

And of course there are a couple of larger items sitting quietly in the corner of the workshop, but you'll have to wait and see on those. I'm having slight sizing anxieties, but in the end I'm going to have to trust my tape measure and just go for it. If they open it on Christmas morning and the damn thing doesn't fit, well, I'm sure there'll be a way around it. I mean, no one needs both their arms, do they?

I'm also attempting something a little more adventurous that will require me to design my own chart. The little voices are telling me not to even attempt such a foolhardy idea. It'll drive me nuts, I'll waste hours planning it only for it all to fall apart and I'll end up doing the simple version after all. But amidst the rabble, there's another voice piping up quietly from the back, and pointing out that, if I can manage to pull it off, it's going to look damn cool.

Even little elves should aim high now and again...

Feeling slightly smug

It's feeling much more wintery this weekend (apparently snow is heading for a large swathe of the country and it's expected to get down to -3 in London tonight). Last night I walked over to the Commercial Tavern to meet some friends and, since I'm always cold, I wrapped up to fight the chill. Thanks to a Stitch n Bitch hat (one of the first things I ever made), my Guy Fawkes Hoodie (see posts below) and a long and chunky scarf, I was seriously snug in a handmade heaven.

Snug and, I admit, a little smug. The latter came from the looks people gave me as they walked past me. They weren't really looking at me, exactly, but appeared to be focused on the scarf and I can only describe the look as one of envy:

It's a huge beast of a thing, knitted in 2 skeins of Rowan Plaid which I bought last year from Cucumber Patch (they still have a few colours left) and, when muffled up to the ears, it's an arctic winner (not to mention probably the simplest thing it's possible to knit). Knitting's not looking like such a crazy, grandma type hobby now, is it?

But fear not, the gods will ensure that I fall over / drop the contents of my bag all over the bus / throw a red sock into my white laundry etc etc in the near future, to put me back in my place...

Finally finished

Yes, at last, I've finished the Central Park Hoodie. Or the Guy Fawkes Hoodie, as I've come to think of it in its British incarnation. In the now discontinued Rowanspun Aran, it's seriously cosy for a crisp November night by the bonfire.

The pattern's easy to follow - the cables are fairly simple and there's no shaping. But I can see what some people on Ravelry have been talking about when it comes to the sleeves - they're very narrow and long. Which is quite handy for me and my simian limbs, but ideally they should be a bit wider. I made the 36" - a size bigger than I'd normally make - and it's roomy enough in the body to layer underneath, but fits well across the shoulders and hips.

So the sizing is definitely a little off, but in a simple, chunky sweater I think you can get away with it. The buttons are the only set of 6 I had to hand (and more green than in the picture) but I'm liking them at the moment.

It's currently blocking on the floor after a soak in the tub and I think it's going to soften up nicely. Rowanspun is quite a strange yarn, it has a felted quality to it and it breaks quite easily, but it's nice and lightweight for a big garment like this.

So, selfish sweater completed and we're back to the Christmas schedule...

Eyes Bigger Than My Tummy

I feel as though I am sitting in front of several kingsize bars of Dairy Milk. Actually, it's worse than that. There's the Dairy Milk, the plate of Krispy Kremes, an ambassador's display of Ferero Roche and half a dozen tubs of Haagen Daz. And they are calling to me. I know it's too much; I know it will cost a fortune and make me sick and I''ll regret the huge swirls of mocha fudge, but I don't care.

And now translate that mountain of sugary temptation into a pile of knitting goodness.

Yes, not only is the beautifully compiled new edition of the Twist Collective catalogue up, but the Interweave winter preview is up as well. And I am fighting the urge to order about 7,000 balls of yarn, quit my job and knit like a crazy person in a cave.

Ok, maybe that last part was stretching it, but you know what I mean. There are so many things here I want to make.

I'm drawn to the felted fabulousness of the Heroine jacket. I've already seen many people on Ravelry becoming utterly obssessed with Vivian, by the talented (and wonderfully named) Ysolda Teague. My personal obssession is leaning more towards the Pinstripe Sweater over at Interweave, but I'm also loving the Handsome Mittens (shown here in one of my favourite colour-combos) and the stitch pattern of the Sweet Honey Beret. I'm also strangely liking the Woven Bands Pullover although the slightly dodgy photo shoot means you can't really see it in full. (And is it just me, or is not a very manly man's sweater? I'd make it for myself I think, it's just not really saying 'bloke' to me for some reason.)

But before any of these, I really really really want to make this cardigan (which has been photographed with a horrible t-shirt in the way and looks much better in this version made by a fellow Raveller). Plus there's the amazing and ambitious Little Birds that are still singing to me. And I found a bargain at Cucumber Patch for some wool to make this, which just looks so cosy for a winter's evening curled on the sofa. Although with yarn that chunky it shouldn't take too long (See how I justify my addiction? I'm a classic case in need of 12 steps at this rate).

Not forgetting of course, the 14 remaining Christmas presents I need to knit. Now you can see why I'm heading for a serious bout of yarn indigestion.

You know, that cave is starting to look quite appealing.

TV Knitting

So, all this Christmas knitting takes a while. And as the deadline approaches, entire weekends can spent ploughing through the backlog. Not that this is a Bad Thing. Personally, a day spent knitting is a luxurious idea, and something I indulge in every few weekends anyway. But once I'm hitting my stride and knitting for over 8 hours at a stretch, I need something to keep me company. If I'm concentrating on a lacy hat like Porom I need all my attention focused on the damn chart I keep messing up. But when it's miles and miles of stockinette a little distraction and entertainment is called for.

Of course, this is essentially the reason the DVD box set was invented. This time last year, I was thrilled to discover my local library (conveniently sitting across the road from my flat) stocked a cornucopia of DVD delights which could be rented either for free or the extortionate sum of 2 pounds (no, I still haven't found the pound key on this computer). I think this fact alone may have reimbursed me for my council tax this year.

Unlike Blockbuster, it's an eclectic mix and for some shows they might only have season 4, so unless you're familiar with it you have to just launch in blindly. Ok for Will & Grace, not so good for Lost. But it's encouraged me to try some things I had never thought to watch, or programmes I completely missed the first time round. Last year's knitting frenzy was ably assisted by a combination of Oz, Nip/Tuck, Smallville, and House. As I've worked my way through a fair amount of the library's stock I've now also subscribed to Love Film to supplement supplies. Over the course of this year I moved on to The Sopranos, Battlestar Galactica and 24 and the current workshop is following Buffy. Through this gogglefest, I've learnt some important lessons:

1. Action/thrillers can be problematic. One glance down to the knitting and you've missed a vital visual clue; a secret email, a furtive handshake, a tiny scrap of evidence tucked into someone's pocket. You also tend to miss the explosions, shootings and stunts. So 24 isn't one I'll be trying again this festive season, nor Battlestar Galactica.

2. Forget anything with subtitles, obviously. I've had The Lives of Others from Love Film for weeks and I really want to watch it but there's just no way I'm capable of knitting and trying to follow German at the same time.

3. Sitcoms don't really work. The problem lies in watching several episodes one after the other. You start to feel like you're in some sort of time warp and watching the same twenty minutes over and over again. One trick - if you have a serious marathon ahead of you - is to alternate a comedy with a drama and then you don't get bored of either.

3. Dialogue is the key. As long as you can hear what's going on there's no problem. So anything that's essentially a talking book works well. Which is why I've seen every season of The West Wing at least four times now. That and the fact that it's utterly brilliant, of course. House, surprisingly, is mostly a lot of talking as well (and once you've seen one guy have a stroke/lumbar puncture/MRI/dangerously risky and foolhardy operation, you've seen them all). Buffy is proving to be a good combination of genres, since the dialogue is smart and the kill-the-vampire action sequences easy enough to follow half-blind.

So, what do you like to watch while you're knitting? Any recommendations for me? Here are my top three:

1.The West Wing
If you've never seen it and ever wondered how politics could possibly be entertaining, try this. Best put-down ever:


2. The Wire
Sometimes referred to as the best drama you've never seen. If anyone tells you there's nothing good on TV, here's the answer. For the first couple of episodes I wasn't sure what all the fuss was about. And then I watched this classic scene from Season 1:


3. Buffy
I don't care if you're not into fantasy fiction, or teenage angst with a vampire twist. The writing here is fantastic and brilliantly entertaining. And I can't think of another show that's pulled off an episode where all the characters sing their parts as if they're in a musical, let alone an episode with almost no dialogue at all:

Saturday Night Live

As you can see, I'm living it up crazy style on a Saturday night. Still, judging from the torrential downpour outside I have no problem at all with spending an evening at home and from what I can hear (or rather not hear) I'm not missing any fireworks. And of course the X Factor provides a joyful opportunity to shout at the television and veg out with some knitting.

I'm on a mission to try and finish the Central Park Hoodie. This weekend was my original deadline but I've lagged behind a little and I want to try and get it done so that I can concentrate on the Christmas extravaganza whilst remaining toasty warm. I've got a back, two fronts and one sleeve. The second sleeve is underway, although the real challenge is going to be picking up a gazillion stitches for the border. Sleeves are like socks as far as knitting is concerned, there's something of a curse around the second one. You go to all the effort, spend ages knitting a component that's rarely as interesting as the rest of the garment, finish triumphantly and then realise you now have to start all over again on exactly the same thing. And once I finish the sleeve I've got the sewing up to do. Groan.

Yeah, I'm never going to get it done this weekend. But hey, it's chucking it down outside, I've got a cosy sofa, some cheesy TV and my favourite tunes on my iPod. Perfect for knitting and for me to put into practice my current resolution to worry less about the destination and try to enjoy the journey.

Elf Workshop

So, just to prove I've been doing what I claim to have been doing, here's a picture of the Big Wool hat, as promised. There's a matching cowl as well, but you get the idea:


Charmingly modelled by my lamp. Which isn't really the ideal way to show it off but never mind. I made this up as I went along, a very simple mistake rib, knit flat, with a couple of decrease rounds at the end and then seamed. Big Wool is very forgiving. And also very warm, so this is getting a lot of wear already.

Onto the Christmas knitting, some of which I can safely reveal as I know the recipients aren't reading this blog (and even if they are they won't know who's getting what - my Christmas elf status remains intact).

So we have a simple but cosy mistake rib cowl, in a pretty colourway from Twilley's Freedom Spirit:I need to be careful, or the lamp is going to start getting ideas above its station and plan an escape to the catwalks of Milan.

And there is also the tweedy, garter stitch yumminess of this scarf:

Slightly random colour-combo but love how this is turning out. What you can't really see in the photo is that the tweedy flecks in the grey colourway are orange and blue, the mustard has grey, the orange has blue etc, so they match in a mismatch kinda way. This is the Lanark Wool Tweed in the DK weight which is incredibly light and airy. Really like knitting with this and think it would make great cables and stitch patterns. May be forced to experiment with a mustard colour sweater in the New Year.

Meanwhile, waiting in the wings is this fabulous colour in Colinette Point 5 (Lapis):



Destined to be another Christmas present, probably another cowl (if you know me, be warned there's a high probability of receiving a cowl this year. Brilliant things. Quick to knit, warm to wear and means I can afford to use a skein of the good stuff). Awaiting a similar incarnation is another skein in Slate:

And finally there's the heavenly silk and merino combo of this:

Yes, the gorgeous Manos del Uruguay in colour 9254. Amazed the colours have come out so accurately in this picture, they're muted but still rich and the silk gives it a beautiful sheen like the inside of a seashell. (Ed: Alright, alright, it's only yarn - get to the point). Comparatively expensive stuff but as there's 270m in one skein I think I can get a decent scarf out of it. Scouring Ravelry for a suitable pattern, or stitch idea (any thoughts let me know). Not too lacy, but it's so pretty and soft I think it will drape well in a pattern that's not too stiff either. Watch this space.

Plus a couple of other things I won't be able to reveal until after the holidays...;) The Elf workshop is stepping up a gear...

The nights are drawing in

I love this time of year. The sky is grey, there’s a permanent misty drizzle and darkness seems to fall before you’ve finished your lunch break. But there’s also a crisp stillness in the early morning, a sharp taste to the air and the delicious pleasure of stepping in from the cold into a cosy room. And, I confess, there’s also a certain sense of smugness and even revenge. Once we hit that first cold snap, knitting doesn’t seem like such a crazy idea now, does it?

So those who might have stared at me on the tube in bafflement or, at the very least, curiosity, are now looking with something closer to envy, as I click away at a mounting pile of Rowan Big Wool. Those who scoffed at my eccentricity are now quizzing me on where I got the tweedy warmth of my new sweater. And I can revel in the joy of crying ‘Bah Humbug!’ and cackle into my circular knitting needles.

Well, alright, not exactly (that would be a bit weird) but you get the idea. And it’s not that I encounter hostility from people over my knitting, more the case that they’re a bit puzzled by it all.

But for the next few months, it’s all rather less of a mystery to people. There’s something wonderfully self-sufficient about being able to keep yourself warm.

The only problem is that it makes me even more fickle that usual. I am surrounded by WIPs at the moment (to the point that I’m losing sight of my sofa). Most are Christmas presents and I think part of the problem is that I’ve stored up some seriously yummy wool and some seriously fab patterns and I’m just over-excited. Again, it’s a theme for the time of year. Come Christmas we’ll all be doing it, whether it’s with a biscuit tin, a festive tipple or an office party – we’ll all be over-indulging.

This week I am on probation as a cautionary measure, so I’m trying to finish off a couple of things before starting anything else. It’s sort of working. Which is just as well as when I think about how much more I have to do I start hyperventilating. But, as with your finances, it’s better to face the problem. There’s no point stuffing the bank statements down the back of the sofa (for a start I wouldn’t find the back of the sofa under all that wool). Calm, rational assessment is the key.

So, what’s the damage? Well, I have 17 presents to make in total. At least 10 of these are people I will see on Christmas Day, so I can’t turn up empty handed. On the plus side, that means I can make use of the days running up to it, after I finish work for the holidays (and we all know I’ll still be at it on Christmas Eve).

Now I’m not completely stupid. I do realise that this is an exercise in futility on a scale a Greek tragedy would be proud of. (The fact that I realise it’s futile and yet I’m still doing it, does make me an idiot, I grant you).

So, of those 17:
2 are knitted
3 are very nearly finished
3 are in progress (and one of these is the Big One, so at least that’s on the way)

Which leaves 9 entirely unaccounted for. (It’s ok, just breathe, keep breathing..)

Of the 9:
1 has a pattern and yarn ready and waiting
3 have a pattern assigned but not yarn

Leaving the remaining 5 that haven’t been allocated anything and are spinning into a black knitting vortex while I reach for a paper bag. (Deep breaths…)

Of the 5:
4 are for girls. And therefore easy. Many many options. Thank god.
1 is not. And I have NO IDEA what the hell I am supposed to make him. He got a scarf last year, so I can’t do that again. A hat? I just can’t picture it. Mittens? Possibly but when the hell would he wear them? Ironically enough I can think of several jumper patterns that would suit but he’s a big guy. There is absolutely no way I can knit that much yarn in 6 weeks. I’d need a bigger sofa.

Answers on a postcard please. Or in the comments. Or screamed into the bleak darkness of the night as I set fire to my bamboo knitting needles in a frenzy of despair on 23rd December.

Ahem.

It will be fine. It will all come together. With plans like these, blind faith that the chaos of the universe will conspire in your favour at the last moment is the only thing to hold onto. That and a stiff drink.

And finally, the winner of the fancy dress competition from Saturday night:

The Bunny Girls were charming. SJ the Exorcist scared the crap out of me.

I'm obsessed

with this.

Isn't it amazing? Probably the most ridiculously cute thing ever. And every time I look at it I hear the Bob Marley song. You can't help but smile and feel the urge to set out a feeder in your back garden (if I had a back garden, of course). Officially the happiest looking cardigan I have ever seen.

And if you're on Ravelry you can enjoy this fabulous jumper version.

I've only tried Fairisle knitting (with all the colours) once. On a pair of mittens that I still haven't finished (you can see them on the right). I've always been a bit scared of it. And steeking (where you actually cut your beloved, hard-worked knitting to make the armholes) frankly terrifies me. But this may be the project that persuades me to try again. The birds are calling to me. And Jamieson's wool is sooooo cosy and in a million gorgeous colours and not too crazily expensive and....

Enough. I'm convinced (aren't you?). It may be foolhardy, it may be complicated, it may be the final nail in the 'barmy knitter' sign on my forehead but I'm knitting the damn birds.

And who knows. If I manage that, maybe I'll be brave enough to try this...

'...singing don't worry 'bout a thing, cos every little thing gonna be alright...'

Storming Prague

That's the bar, not some kind of Eastern Front military manoeuvre on the Czech Republic. Obviously.

Yes, Tuesday's knit night was a resounding success with 7 knitters in attendance, 3 of them newbies to the group and 1 of them learning to knit for the first time. The lovely Andine (whose beautiful name I'm no doubt doing what Brits do best with French and mangling beyond recognition) managed the neatest first knit I've ever seen; Kathryn is obviously an excellent teacher. We also had out first random visitor - Annie popped in as she has just started knitting and spotted us in Prague the other week (and turned out to know one of us from the Guides in Durham many years ago - how's that for random?). We officially conquered the big sofa by the window, and will no doubt be taking over the rest a table at a time...;)

I was especially glad as I'd had a bit of a strange Tuesday - I'd spent most of the day reading about war, genocide, refugee camps, torture, gender inequality that proves the Middle Ages are alive and rocking - essentially all the worst things humanity is capable of. I should perhaps point out that this was for work, and that the text in question also had many tales of hope, love and generosity amidst the carnage. Needless to say though, it left me desperate for a stiff drink and some good company. So my thanks once again to the charming Hoxton Knitting Group for a fun evening.

In other news I am powering through the Central Park Hoodie (in lieu of the chocolate brownie and at least one of the gold stars) inbetween Christmas presents. I'm aiming to finish it in time for Bonfire Night when it will be crisp and chill for the fireworks. That's the plan anyway.

You'll notice at the top of the page I'm giving Twitter a go. No, I'm not really sure either. I doubt any of you are that interested in my every knitting move, but I guess we're going to find out. On the plus side it has pointed me in the direction of a couple of good knitterly blogs and I've tried to give Hoxton a bit of a Spring clean, lest you all get bored and realise you have better things to be getting on with. So please do explore the links, you might find a treat.

One thing I did spot on Twitter though, was a Tweet from some bloke who was clearly mortified to see a man on the Tube knitting. He was so traumatised by the experience, and obviously felt no one would believe his incredible tale, that he took a covert photo with his phone as proof. And then Twittered about it in utter indignation .(NB See how I've embraced the lingo? Dangerously addictive even though you start sounding like a two year old with a curious speech impediment). These days I can understand people being wary on the Underground, I just never suspected knitting would be high on anyone's list of suspect activities. The 140 characters Twitter permits aren't really enough to clarify whether it was the knitting itself that offended him or the fact that it was a bloke doing the knitting. Naturally I'm all in favour of hunting this Twit (ahem) down and skewering him with a cable needle - who's with me? Alright, alright, I know, 'violence solves nothing', 'give peace a chance' yada yada yada.

Ok. We'll go with peaceful protest. Direct action. Passive aggression. Remember to always take your knitting with you on the Tube and let's see if we can really freak him out....

Santa's Little Helper

Patting myself on the back this week as the Christmas knitting schedule is on track and even though it's not yet October, I've got several presents on the go already:

This is another Wisp but in a soft and silky merino single ply, instead of Kidsilk Haze. I think it'll look even better once the lace pattern is blocked but I love the colour:

Next up is Porom, a new hat pattern from Brooklyn Tweed. I had to start this again as I was a complete idiot with the (simple, clear and fairly obvious) instructions for one of the charts. But fortunately Take Two is looking much better. It's in Felted Tweed, so not too heavy for a soft and slouchy hat:

The we have the garter stitch simplicity of the autumn scarf. This is in the lovely Lanark Tweed (one of the best yarn bargains on the net) and I'm particularly fond of the mustard yellow colour:

And bringing up the rear we have the Big One:

Only got the hem so far, but at least I've made a start. This is Jamieson's Heather Aran in Fresco, and is going to be seriously warm and cosy.

So, for the time being, I'm on schedule. Now, where's my three gold stars and a chocolate muffin?

Stash-tastic

A couple of days ago I had 40 (yes, really) skeins of yarn delivered to me at work. A guy there on work experience cast a quizzical (though, to be fair, non-judgmental) look and a co-worker kindly explained "She knits".

I bounded through the office, gleefully hugging the squishy stash of Jamieson's Heather Aran, with the added bonus that it had been on sale at a $1 a skein (I know, that should be a pound sign but this keyboard has a mind of its own and normally the fact that it likes to swap symbols and keys around with wild abandon wouldn't be an issue, I simply hunt for the schizophrenic key that has decided to become a pound sign, but in this instance it has eluded me - as far as I can tell no key, no combination of shift-influenced keys, no F5/alt/del wizardry can induce any of these keys into producing a pound sign. My computer tends to run a little hot and the prospect of it spontaneously combusting is not outside the realm of possibility, so I am loathe to antagonise it. I simply mutter under my breath, become increasingly frustrated and call it HAL when I think it's not listening. And don't even get me started on my non-existent modem signal...)

Sorry. A Rant appears to have snuck in there (isn't snuck a marvellous word?). Back to the good stuff.

So the lovely Jamieson's in Fern (a brighter green than the name suggests) and Fresco (a daft name for a great shade of greyish moss green) is destined for the festive season. One batch will be the sweater project for this year (not telling for whom) and the other well, to be honest, I'm plotting how I can syphon off most of it for an entirely selfish idea for me. Fortunately, I reckon there's enough for me to make several presents and then use the rest in a guilt-free woolfest for myself.

Naturally, my colleagues were a little bemused by my excitement so thank god for the Hoxton Knitters (that's the Hoxton-based knitting night, not some group of people I've claimed in a weird bout of self-promotion) who could share in my joy at the woolly yumminess and delight in my thrifty find. My family are kindly tolerant of my obssession and have no problem with knitting but nevertheless they don't knit and therefore they don't get it. Same with my friends at work. Which is fine, it's just so nice to spend some time with friendly folk who do get it. These are people who, when you're talking about how nice it would be to have money and not have to work, agree that the best part would be all the time you would have to knit. And you can say it and no one looks at you like you're slightly barmy. Instead they all nod enthusiastically and join in the wool-based fantasy.

They also understand the fact that you can never have enough yarn. It doesn't matter that I have 12 huge balls of tweed in three different colourways waiting to be used. Or a couple of balls of alpaca. Or a huge amount of Rowanspun that I should really frog from an ugly half-finished sweater and put to better use. A good analogy for non-knitters (or at least female ones) would be shoes - same principle applies: there's no such thing as too many.

So, if you do not knit, imagine you have just found the perfect pair of killer heels, and they fit you exactly, and they match your favourite dress, and they give you legs the length of Erin O'Connor's, and they were on SALE.

And now you can share in my joy at 40 skeins of yarn.

One I Made Earlier

Have finally finished the Juniper Jumper. Loving the soft, silky and somewhat squishy Inca Mist Alpaca. Sooooo cozy. Don't really consider myself a perfectionist (quite the opposite really) but with fairly posh yarn I wanted to make sure I'd actually wear the damn thing. Just a simple top-down raglan, with some garter stitch thrown in but I did the waist shaping wrong, then the sleeves were too short and then too tight, so I ended up frogging the body once and the arms twice.Have also started on the Christmas knitting:

This is the lovely Wisp, which can be found for free on Knitty and Ravelry. I'm doing it with two strands of Kidsilk Haze to make it a bit heavier and more substantial. Loving the easy, quick pattern that still looks impressive enough for a present. Not telling you who it's for though....

And, between you and me, I finally finished this:

Spread the Wool

Exhausted from the craziness of the Innocent Village Fete. No, I didn't get carried away with the welly wanging, or go running around Regents' Park duck herding (although, naturally, I was tempted). No, I've been casting on miniature woolly hats in my sleep thanks to 5 hours in the Big Knit tent. The basic idea was simple - every year Innocent sell their smoothies with little woolly hats on them. Bless. For every hatted smoothie sold, they give 50p to Age Concern to help old folks keep warm in the winter. Nice. So we were trying to get people to buy a little knitting kit and have a go at making their own winter warmer. Witness the happy knitting mayhem:

I had to take this picture when it stopped raining. During the downpours, I couldn't actually move to get my camera it was so packed with people avoiding the weather - I say people, but there were definitely a couple of damp dogs and, I suspect, a few of the cannier ducks in there too at one point.

Yes that is a box filled with itty-bitty hats. There was a competition to guess how many hats and win a case of Innocent Smoothies. (And yes, those are two fake and remarkably lifelike chickens on top of the box and no, I don't understand the reference either. In fact the whole hay-bale, checked picnic rug, rustic rocking chair vibe was rather lost on most of the I Knit crowd - again with this bizarre rural, ye-olden-dayes image, do they think all knitters come from Walton's Mountain? Nevermind, a rant for another day...)

My first attempt at teaching someone to knit was not a great success, you'll be shocked to learn. Turns out my longtail cast-on method is not suited to getting someone knitting in a short space of time. In fact it scares the crap out of them. So thank god for Claire, who kindly pointed out an oh-so-logical, foolproof and non-scary method. As with most things knit, everybody does it all a little differently and one of the fun things that day was simply watching how other people were knitting.

So armed with this new information, further attempts were rather less painful. At one point I had a group of 6 teenage friends on the go at once. Which sort of worked. But they all seemed happy to give it a go and soon the hats were piling up:

Although some people seemed to be taking a very relaxed view of the whole enterprise:

Still at least Innocent were encouraging their employees to get into the spirit of the thing. And I suppose he helped keep the wool dry...

We had enthusiastic young 'uns Not-so-enthusiastic-but-giving-it-a-go older 'uns

But the main thing is, we got lots and lots of people knitting

Yey. Spread the wool.

Knit Night

I have found them.

Yes, at last, I have discovered Other Knitters.

Obviously I’ve always known they were out there, in vast numbers, but I’d only ever spotted them online, never in their natural habitat, as it were. So imagine my delight at discovering some locals on Ravelry who were keen to set up a Hoxton knitting night.

Yesterday evening found me wending my way down the road to Prague, a ‘bohemian bar’ on the Kingsland Road (that for some reason, despite spending many alcoholic hours in this part of town over the last ten years, I had never been into before. Apparently they do excellent coffee. Who knew). It was still quite early and therefore quiet, so it wasn’t hard to spot the three women sat round a table knitting merrily away.

Joining them for a couple of hours was a lovely way to spend the evening and Prague proved to be a pretty good venue choice (also they were playing albums by Arcade Fire and The Shins all night, which I took as a good sign). It got a little noisy as the bar filled up, but the staff were nice and we had nothing worse than a slightly bemused grin as people walked past. By eight o’clock they were setting out tealights, until the waitress saw the mountain of Kidsilk Haze lacework piled on one table and said “Actually, you probably don’t want a candle here do you?!” Thoughtful. And very health & safety conscious, given my knack for knocking things over.

I have discussed the controversial pros and cons of sock knitting; learned that excellent yarn shops can be found in Japan; been recommended a good yoga class nearby and discovered that a fellow Hoxtonite will also be knitting at the Innocent Fete on Sunday, in the course of a relaxed and humorous conversation with some lovely people. Plus I am now well into the second half of my bamboo tape vest. This knitting group lark is genius.

So Tuesday night is now knitting night round Hoxton way. Come join us sometime.

The Knitter's Rebellion

As I sit at home surrounded by various balls of yarn, piles of notebooks scribbled with design ideas, half-finished projects lounging on the sofa, circular needles coiled on the floor like some strange species of carpet-dwelling reptile, there is no disguising the fact that I Knit. These days it has become something of a distinguishing feature, since I am the only one among my friends, family and colleagues with this particular hobby. I am The Knitter.

But I constantly feel I have to justify the fact that I knit, usually by downplaying it as an eccentric quirk; an old fashioned twist; a nice little hobby. As the Yarn Harlot has said (scroll down to 17th June and her knitter's party) this can get pretty tiresome. Knitting has a strange label of fustiness about it to some people, or else they think it's all a bit 1950's chained-to-the-kitchen-sink for the modern woman. To which all I can say is bollocks, quite frankly, since it entirely misses the point.

For a start, and as this blog makes clear, the old-fashioned label is not something I mind. I still maintain that grandmas rock. I shared a birthday with mine and was named after her and although she was not a cuddly, jam-making grandma (more of the tough-old-boot variety) she was a tremendous knitter and taught me garter stitch on red plastic needles when I was about seven. The knitting bug didn’t really bite until I was in my early twenties and she was sadly no longer here, but I still love the fact that I am continuing a family tradition of some sort.

Even so, there's a very modern sensibility to knitting in the way it provides a creative process that bypasses all that cheap, ethically dodgy, short-term fashion. With no need to resort to a magazine telling you what you should be wearing you can create something entirely unique that will last for years.

There is something magical about knitting that non-knitters don't really get. The fact that the whole piece is one long, uninterrupted thread; that every single stitch must pass through your fingers; that if you wanted you could simply frog the whole thing and it would return to what it was. You can’t un-bake a cake or retrieve the paint from a picture but you could, theoretically at least, endlessly recycle the yarn from a piece of knitting.

I tend to knit on the sofa, watching TV, most of the time, but I also take knitting to the park, on the tube, to a friend’s house and as I form each stitch and the piece gradually grows, my mind happily wanders, my mood affecting what and how I knit. So the finished piece, whatever it may be, is a sort of time capsule for a whole range of emotions and thoughts and events that have taken place during its formation. And if I’m knitting a gift for someone else, I’m thinking of them all the way through the process and I like to imagine how that creates a bond between me and the other person and this strange little heap of fibres.

Today's Guardian has a special supplement on Rebel Knitting, with some cute and easy patterns for an iPod cozy, bag, mittens and lots more, designed by Mazz, who famously caused an uproar recently by knitting some cuddly Doctor Who villains and posting the patterns on her website, much to the BBC's displeasure.

There's also an article on the idea of rebel knitting which, to be honest, seems to be coming to the party a little late but still, the spirit of the piece is nice. And I like that it questions again the many ideas that are out there of what knitting is supposed to be.

So yes, I am a Knitter and if that makes me a rebel as well, then so be it. And you can laugh at that or be bemused by it or impressed or curious or just indifferent to the whole thing, I really don’t mind. I knit for me and because it’s part of who I am. And that’s just fine.