Cosy in the Cold

As those of you who regularly read my ramblings here will know, I am something of a solitary knitter amongst my immediate friends and family, which at least gives them something to laugh at (it's only fair to keep providing relatives with fresh material - lord knows they give enough to me). However I'm happy to have found a new recruit.

My sister-in-law was taught to knit when she was small and has now decided to give it another go. Imagine my delight at a phonecall a couple of days after Christmas asking me what the hell was all this about slipping a stitch at the end of row? Another convert! I'll be solemnly passing on my faithful copy of Stitch'n'Bitch to her this weekend, along with the warning that this is all going to get somewhat addictive...

And, as I mentioned a little while ago, I've discovered a couple of friends are closet knitters, quietly making bootees without my knowledge. So knitters are lurking in unexpected places and there are a lot more of us than you think.

As promised, here's the Chunky Throw, which I've finally finished.

It's a bit of a beast, but a nice size to cosy up with on the sofa which is pretty perfect for this cold snap. Even though it's a very basic pattern, I'm pleased with how it's turned out. The pattern calls for the Chunky Elite yarn Twinkle uses all the time and which isn't available over here. I found an affordable alternative in Wendy Pampas. Not sure how it will wear, but super chunky yarn tends to pill quickly anyway, regardless of how posh/expensive it is, and it's a nice rich colour. Cucumber Patch have a couple of colors on sale if anyone wants to give it a try.

Hope everyone's keeping warm. One good thing about the current freeze is that it's the perfect opportunity to indulge in all your favourite handknits.

Detox Your Ears

First day back at work feels rather like the first day back at school. Getting up early, battling the commute and bracing against the arctic wind outside wasn’t really as bad as I had feared. I almost enjoyed myself today (although no need to tell the boss that). I’ve had a lovely break but it’s nice to be back in the bustle of things, engaging my brain – or at least trying to. And for all the corniness of resolutions and fresh starts there is something about a clean slate that’s emboldening somehow, especially when it’s crisp and cold outside.

I’ve been watching Once again (possibly the sweetest, saccharine-free film ever) which in turn has got me to put down my knitting needles and pick up the guitar, whilst re-programming my iPod to a playlist of folky singer-songwriters.

Knitting wise, I’ve just finished the Chunky Lacy Throw, but need to wait for daylight for some decent pictures. I’m onto the final button band for the Martha cardigan so again there’ll be pictures once it’s in shape. And the two remaining Christmas presents are making slow but steady progress. Of course today was the perfect weather for both of them if only they’d been ready, but they’ll just have to wait their turn for now. I’m alternating them with other, smaller things to stop myself going crazy but I’m hoping for a full-on attack this weekend (an evening’s babysitting will be put to good use).

So, rather than the knits, today I thought I’d share a brief playlist of tunes that I’ve been playing over and over lately. An excellent New Year’s detox for the festive over-indulgence of Slade, Cliff Richard and Alexandra bloody Burke.

Bon Iver is the ultimate soundtrack for this kind of weather. Recording most of his album For Emma, Forever Ago in a cabin in Wisconsin in the depths of winter, this is music that seems to be drifting to you through a snowstorm. If the thought of a bloke with a guitar angsting in a wooden shed fills you with horror, be brave and give it a chance. It’s way better than the stereotype. Have a listen of Skinny Love. My personal album of 2008.

Followed very closely by the precocious talent of Laura Marling, who recorded Alas, I Cannot Swim at the age of 17 and was therefore thrown out of one of her own gigs for being underage. So she played on the pavement instead, bless her. Night Terror crawled into my head and won’t budge.

The aforementioned Once, featuring the musical talents of Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, who won an Oscar for their efforts. Falling Slowly is the sweet love song that bagged them the statue but there are other tracks with more of a bitter bite.

I’d never heard of Seth Lakeman until I found myself at a gig of his, which turned into some kind of West Country craic by the end of the evening. Lots of fun. Again, if a man with a fiddle isn’t generally your cup of tea, you might be surprised. Watching him play Kitty Jay live is pretty impressive and I find it oddly comforting that people are writing songs about ghosts and shipwrecks and the beast of Bodmin Moor. Makes a nice change from all that post-modern ironic wit flying about.

St. Vincent is another talented lady, often to be found playing with Sufjan Stevens, whose songs vary from waltzes about the French Revolution to marriage proposals to strangers (“We’ll do what Mary and Joseph did. Without the kid”).

And finally, she may have a voice from another planet, but Joanna Newsom (and that bloke from the whiskey advert) show that if you’re not rocking out with a harp then you’re just not trying hard enough. Bridges and Balloons is probably what the Owl and the Pussycat listen to on their travels.

All the hot-tip predictions I’ve heard so far for 2009 have involved electronica/synths/the 80s for some reason, although I’m pleased a lot of them are women, after the recent glut of testosterone-loaded guitar bands. Anyone have any folksome predictions or recommendations?

So long, 2008...

Here we are at the end of the year, so I thought one final post for 2008 was in order.

I'm still trying to catch up with a few final Christmas presents, and don't want to give too much away, but crowding onto the Hoxton sofa is some garter stitch goodness:

Some giant, squishy lace (if only my 12mm circulars wouldn't keep falling apart):

And some green gooseberries:

I'm already compiling my list of projects for 2009. Martha is almost done (at long last) and has been saved from the frog pile for the moment.

I'm also eyeing the Shalom cardigan to use up some Rowan Polar from my stash. Then there's Oblique, pretty much the whole Twist Collective catalogue, I've got masses of Troon Tweed to use up, my lovely new Christmas alpaca (destined to be a striped sweater of some kind) and some slightly random yarns (bamboo tape etc) to use up as and when I work out what I can do with them.

So 2009 is going to be busy, knitting wise and, let's admit it, somewhat selfish.

Like a lot of people, I detest New Year's Eve, with the pressure to Have Fun and do something exciting and the notion that we're all supposed to dramatically alter our lives overnight to resemble some sort of Disney-esque fantatsy. But I will be attempting to enjoy myself and, whether you go out or stay in, I hope you have a great countdown to 2009 and that the coming year brings you happiness, peace, good health, prosperity and all that other good stuff. Or at the very least some decent summer weather.

Self Assembly

There are many benefits to living alone: sole possession of the remote control, unlimited access to both the kitchen and the bathroom, no one waiting for you to tidy up the wool lying everywhere. Of course there are also a few circumstances when it's a disadvantage: when the zip on the back of your dress gets stuck, when you're at the top of a step ladder and it occurs to you that if you fall off and break your neck no-one's going to know, and when you're trying to pick up something from Argos.

It's the latter that proved a particular drawback today but hey, I can change a fuse, re-wire a plug and unblock a drain, so I was undeterred. As part of a New Year tidy-up, I wanted to get some new storage units - how hard could that be? Now I do not own a car and I'm not about to win a triathalon anytime soon, so once I had taken possession of three heavy flat-pack boxes (after waiting for about four days at Collection Point B) I was slightly at a loss as to how to get them home. A taxi was clearly in order, but I could only lift one of the boxes at a time. Fortunately a woman at Argos helpfully lent me a trolley, so I wheeled them out to the curb, hailed a cab, whomped them in and then pelted back to return the trolley. After a quick ride home, there was then a staggered relay to get them upstairs (thank god I only live on the first floor) and I was all set:
We all know the trauma of self-assembly furniture. The nightmare instructions telling you to fix shelf A to support bracket B using dowel F, whilst showing an illustration of something completely different. The impossible task of holding the whole thing together and using a screwdriver a the same time. The inevitability of being left at the end with some fixture in a plastic envelope, the use for which utterly eludes you. This set was no exception. Long Dowel bloody F - which appeared to be constructed from papier mache - decided to snap in half just as I was coaxing it into the shelf. Argos decided that the best time to screw a magnetic catch to the inner top corner of a cupboard is after you've built it, for optimum screwdriver manoeuverability. And I'm fairly certain I've lost a decidedly pointy nail somewhere in the deep pile of my rug. So I shouted, I cursed, I dropped several heavy pieces of chip board on my foot, but after two hours - success. It may be a pain in the arse, but it's also pretty satisfying. At last I can go from my usual method of yarn storage:

To this:

I love having all my yarn out, rather than shoved in a plastic bag somewhere and my stash isn't quite as shameful as I had feared. Especially since most of what you can see is in use or earmarked for something already. Now I just have to find a way to deal with all the circular knitting needles.

Happy Holidays

Happy Boxing Day and I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas. No doubt plans are now afoot as to when to attack the yarn sales at John Lewis and Libertys (if you're going in tomorrow you're a braver soul than me. I hope you're taking body armour...)

If you're wondering what became of the Christmas knitting, well, it seems I did indeed incur the wrath of the whatever from high atop the thing. At 4pm on Christmas Eve I disovered I had made a pretty major mistake with the Little One - the sweater for my nephew. After two attempts to join the arms to the body and start on the yoke, I thought I was on the home stretch, until I realised the arms were not the same size. One was a good inch wider than the other. They also had an uneven number of increases (no, I don't know how I managed it). I cursed, I swore, I contemplated hard liquor at an early hour. I debated whether or not it could be fudged - would anyone really notice? But then I thought that the sleeve size would affect the yoke and my poor nephew could end up with a weirdly fitting shoulder as well, and the kid has enough problems with the crazy aunt knitting him stuff in the first place. And finally, the most important point: It would bug me. I would know.

So I ripped.

And then I carried on knitting, as if sheer willpower would bend time and make it possible to knit most of a jumper in the space of about four hours. I packed up my stuff, wrapped the other presents, jumped on the Tube and got knitting. I made it home to the family, I carried on knitting. I reached The Madness (I'm quite proud I held out so long). Finally, around midnight, my Mum and brother staged an intervention and told me to Step Away From The Knitting. So instead he'll get a New Year's jumper that may just fit him.

Christmas Day was lovely - much food, wine, noise, games and a three year old who kept asking if he could do some knitting now please. The socks for my Uncle were fine, so long as his feet grow another three inches (he kindly said he'd been wanting a pair of slippers anyway), and the scarves, mittens and hats went down well.

But - and I say this with the best Christmas spirit in the world - I am not doing this again. Three years is enough and I'm sure my family would like a different kind of gift next year. And I would like my Autumn to myself again. So it's the end of the Christmas knitting era. I'll probably still make something for Mum (who gets absurdly excited about these things, bless her - as if I'm still four and have made her a robot out of milk cartons and tin foil) and if anyone requests knitwear I will happily oblige. But next time I think I'll do what ordinary folk do and stick to HMV and Neal's Yard.

I realise this may sound like the classic I'm-never-knitting-again vow made after knitting too much for too long, but actually I'm not fed up of it at all. I'm still working on the two remaining gifts quite happily, and planning what I'm going to make next (Mum gave me four balls of cashmere tweed - oh, the possibilities....). I guess it's a case of balance. Knitting for absolutely everyone is overkill (as any other knitter could tell you and a good many have told me , but where's the fun in following good advice?....)

So, a new year, a new knitting policy. But in the meantime it's back to the Little Sweater and its grown-up counterpart. With any luck they'll be ready before next Christmas...

Progress Update

Now I have no wish to tempt the wrath of whatever from high atop the thing (to quote Toby Ziegler) but it's not a total disaster. (Ok, ok, I'll go outside turn around three times and spit).

I have finished the socks. Although these are not the same socks as the Ginormous Socks of Doom which were just getting silly. No, these are a whole new pair and they are done. I have officially made socks. They're still huge, but could conceivably fit something, you know, human.

I have finished the hat. I have finished the scarf. I have finished the Garter Mittens (although I need to graft the second hand tomorrow morning).

A present which was going to be a cowl but was proving problematic (very pretty fabric in great colours but turning out too stiff for a cowl) is now going to be a little buttoned purse and is therefore nearly finished without me having to do anymore knitting (proving that, as with so much in life, it's all about perspective). A little sewing tomorrow and it'll be sorted.

I am resigned to the fact that the Big One will not be done in time. Alas. Still, 1 out of 21 isn't bad. And it looks as though the Little One might make it to the festivities on schedule.

Of course, the only problem is that, although I'm fairly confident I can finish it all, what I haven't factored in is the time it's going to take me to weave in ends/add buttons/seam an item or two, wrap all the gifts, pack my bag for the rest of the week, and then get myself across London before the Tube stops running.

Minor details.

So, I'll have to get myself up early tomorrow and get going. The more I can get done, the less crap I'll have to drag across town to enable me to do it from my Mum's house instead.

So, it's on a knife edge, I admit, but it might just happen.

Knit Night was a quiet affair round Hoxton way this evening - or so I thought. But the three of us happily working on our Christmas gifts attracted the attention of a group of jolly, somewhat tipsy, gents who came over to say hello. It was a fantastically entertaining conversation, though perhaps not for the right reasons.

They were an observant bunch - "You're knitting!!" was exclaimed about 12 times. Although they haven't quite mastered the art of flattery - "It's like Last of the Summer Wine!!" - "Do you knit here often?" and "Could you teach me to crochet?" are certainly novel chat-up lines. And being told I'm the "Termiknitter" is not the kind of compliment a girl gets everyday. So, an unusual crowd in Prague this evening, but at least they did a good line in Christmas jovialty.

Now, I can't sit here chatting all night, I''ve got stuff to knit!

Ignore that last post...

God, it's just so predictable it's ridiculous. Barely 24 hours after my last post and the plan has been cast by the wayside. Christmas arrangements have altered and people I didn't think I'd see on Christmas Day will now be there. Which is fabulous, of course, but also a complete disaster as far as the knitting schedule (as I laughingly refer to it) is concerned.

On the bright side, I've discovered one project is further along than I thought (a rare occasion when the tape measure is on my side for once) and another that's proving a faster knit than expected.

However, the cold harsh reality of futile ambition is now making itself known. I'm surrounded by WIPs, desperately juggling them on my sofa. I'm hopeless at just working on one until it's finished. For some reason I seem to think that if I keep rotating them all I'll manage to finish them all. Which is nonsense, obviously. The only advantage being that I'm varying the needle and yarn sizes I'm working with, so my wrists aren't killing me.

And now I have to venture out for a Christmas party, which will be lovely, although I'm mentally calculating how many knitting hours it's going to eat up (see what I mean about desperate?). Luckily I have just the thing for knitting on the tube journey over there.

So, it's the 21st - four days left. I'm edgy, but far from panicking (but don't worry, I'll get there).