It Is Too Small

So very, very, very much too small.

No, blocking won't help. You may ask, "Jasmin, did you swatch?"

Yes. The math LIED. Evil, betrayer math! If you compare the Alice Starmore Gansey to it, Andrew's sweater was more…. my size. However, on the good side, the ASG fits perfectly.

So, I started working on the ASG again, and I'm finding that I'm enjoying working on it tremendously, and it's not as difficult as I remember it being. The bonus of the ASG is that it's about halfway up the armhole (front and back- I'm planning on steeking the armholes and the neck), which means it's pretty close to being done.

I have noticed that it's not as easy to work on a navy blue sweater with a changing stitch pattern. This wasn't a problem three years ago, but now I need much better light.

The pattern itself is rather soothing in it's predictability. Left-leaning diagonals, diamonds, arrows, pseudo-cable thingy, diamonds, arrows, right leaning diagonals. The charts are intelligently written (except for the minor error, but I figured that one out early on), and the armhole gussets are flat-out sexy. When I was in college, I couldn't find someone to understand and appreciate the sheer sexiness of the gussets, but now I have the MOTPS to marvel over the sexiness that is the armhole gussets.

So here's the plan for Christmas- we're planning on doing low-budget, handmade gifts (we have a remodel we're planning for after the holidays, which is going to cost us some lettuce), and Andrew asked for one of his UFO sweaters to be finished, and for two pairs of socks. He was realistic in his expectations, since my job keeps inconveniently interfering with my knitting time. So, I've gotten started on both pairs of socks, and put about an inch on the sweater over the weekend.

What's going to happen with the Lisa Souza Fair Isle? I'm using it as a giant swatch and I'm going to start from the beginning.

Now, I will leave you with a "purl" of wisdom, from my mother:

"As ye knit, so shall ye rip."

My Wooly Valentine

Andrew and I found a solution for the conflict between Stitches and the Yarn Diet. Andrew, being a smart (and wonderful) man, understands that you cannot go to a knitting event of epic proportions- Stitches West- and not buy stuff.

Unless you're Sabrina. Or like Sabrina. In that case, good for you. I, however, did not have a giant wedding (and therefore didn't have giant bills to pay afterwards), so I really feel that she is an anomaly amongst knitters. I can't do that.

So here is the compromise: I can buy ONE Space Bag full of yarn. There is no limit on stuff that isn't yarn. This works for me, as I believe(d) that I may even bring a PARTIALLY filled Space Bag home, in a sincere effort to not overbuy.

Then I read Lisa Souza's blog. She is a beautiful, wonderful, funny, amazingly talented woman. Having said that…

Lisa Souza is the devil.

She has loads of beautiful colors up on her blog (and her website, where she sells the aforementioned beautiful colors), thus trying to tempt me to break my yarn diet. She also briefly mentions on her blog that she was having a quality issue with the yarn she was getting from her mill.

I think Lisa is awesome for catching the quality issue BEFORE the yarn went out to her customers. I will be filling most of my Space Bag with Lisa Souza, which means that I will have to make some sort of respectable progress on the sweater I started for Andrew a year and a half ago, or he may shame me in front of her again.

I am comparing Lisa's high quality to other yarn companies who routinely sell LOADS of yarn rife with knots in the skeins.

After looking at her colors, I have (possibly) elected to not re-subscribe to the current Sock-of-The-Every-Other-Month club that I am a part of, and instead, call Lisa once a month (because she is charming and really should be called once a month at least) and order one of her new colors in sock yarn.

Readers, Meet Madam

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Madam

Madam, meet my readers. She will be my lovely assistant as long as I have actual garments (rather than just socks) finished that require photography. Today she is modeling my completed Harlot Red ribbon tank.

Due to time/sunlight constraints, as well as a record number of questionable hair days, Madam will be my lovely model. Yes, by the time Andrew gets home after work, I look like I've been hit by a train, and there is like 10 seconds of daylight left.

I know, my readers are smart. They say, "Jasmin, why not take pictures on Saturday or Sunday?"

Silly reader. I don't wear makeup on the weekend. [EXCEPTION: I wore makeup to the Yarn Harlot thingie at Full Thread Ahead. You'll notice in the photo that I wore my completed Harlot Red Ribbon top. I looked dead in it without makeup.]

Madam, reliable thing that she is, has been infinitely more consistent in her appearance. She has that ultimately "natural" look, and it suits her. No head = no dark circles under her eyes.

You may look at her and think "My, isn't she lopsided!" I, too, expressed some concern over her appearance (I * may * have called her "Quasimodo") when I asked Mom if I could borrow her. Mom assures me that all Madam needs is a few good screws and some yoga in order to have her back in womanly shape. If Andrew can't get her properly screwed and bent, I will order a newer, prettier model.

Some FO-tos!

Blue stripey socks! (Meilenweit) Brown Stripey Socks! (Meilenwieit)

Lisa Souza, Earth Birth Ellen's Half-Pint Farm (no color listed)

In Praise of Men and Their Tools

Andrew is a rockin' stud. It's a given. Want to know what kind of mad skills this man has?

He re-plumbed the laundry room, fixing a leak. He replaced the copper pipes. By himself. Check it out.

He patched the hole he made to fix the pipes. (No picture. It looks like a wall. Not very exciting.)

He's unclogged the bathtub in our bathroom, and now he is working on replacing both upstairs bathroom fans.

The amazing thing is the time schedule that this has all been accomplished in.

9/14- Fixed Pipes
9/15- Ended Internship
9/16- Fixed Wall
9/17- Unclogged bathtub
9/18-20- Worked on Bathroom fans

We had to call an electrician to come in tonight because we decided that with the aluminum wiring that our little house has, we should call a professional instead of risking Andrew's life. Sentimental me, I'm a little attached to the fella. What can I say?

I used to think that the sexiest sight was a man in the kitchen. I think I may be shifting that to a man in a toolbelt.

[Sidenote: I have a GREAT picture of Andrew in an apron, but in order to keep this blog family-friendly, and in an effort to preserve my marriage, I can't post it. It's very Georgia O'Keefe, and he didn't realize I took it, despite my hysterical cackling. It also took him a minute to realize what it was when he was loading the pictures onto the computer. Bwa ha ha. Just think. This man is lucky enough to be married to a lunatic like me.]

These Sweaters May Be Too Small

Shame. Panic.

This is what I felt when I realized that the sweaters I have started for Andrew might be too small.

In my defense, I did a gauge swatch, and they fit with the proper ease when I started them. One was started in Fall of 2003 (the Alice Starmore Gansey), and the other (Lisa Souza Fair Isle) was started in August of 2005.

The ASG is the more troubling sweater, since the LSFI is only a few inches long. These sweaters have over 300 sts/round each. There are a bajillion stitches in the ASG. It's closer to completion, since I'm about halfway up the chest patterning. When I contemplated pulling it out of the UFO bin (as part of the UFO jihad), I realized that in the last three years, Andrew and I are older, and are both a little rounder.

This can go two ways.

Scenario 1: It fits, and I'm the only one who has had weight fluctuations.
Scenario 2: It doesn't fit.

In the event of Scenario 2 happening, I have come up with some solutions:

Option 1: Give the sweater to another freakishly tall person.
Option 1a: Shorten the sleeves and wear it as an oversized sweater with set-in sleeves.
Option 2: Buy Andrew a giant hamster ball so that he can work off any extra poundage until the sweater fits.
Option 3: Divorce Andrew. Call Matthew Gray Gubler, who is tall (6'2") and thin. Promise him a beautiful, complex, couture sweater in exchange for being my love slave.
Option 3a: Divorce Andrew. Call Robert Sean Leonard (who is 6 feet tall), and offer him the same deal as Matthew Gray Gubler. Let him know there's competitiion.
Option 4: Never finish the sweater, and avoid Lisa Souza forever. (This is not really an option since her yarn is like crack.)
Option 5: Finish the sweater and hope that one day we have a son that will fit the sweater.

What do you think? Vote in the sidebar!

Personal Shame, as Inflicted by Andrew

Nobody can embarrass you like your loved ones. This is a thing of fact. Your loved one(s) [this includes your knitting group, in my case the Minions of the Pointy Sticks] know about all of your skeletons, and most of all, what you are singularly horrified of the world knowing.

Andrew was walking the show with me, and we went to Lisa Souza's booth (a regular place we love to shop, both at shows and over the phone). Here's how it went:

Jasmin: Hi Lisa! How are you?

[Andrew, Lisa, Rod and I chit chat for a few minutes.]

Andrew: Hey Lisa, do you remember the yarn you dyed for that sweater for me a few months ago?

Lisa: Yes.

Andrew: Wouldn't you like to see it finished?

Lisa: [catches on to Andrew's evil scheme] I would love to see it finished.

Andrew: I bet you would like to see it finished by next Stitches.

Lisa: I would!

Jasmin: [Turning all shades of mortified red and purple] I cast it on…

That's right people. Andrew brought up an UFO in front of Lisa and I was shamed. I'm sure she doesn't hold my UFOs against me, but I was embarrassed that I hadn't finished the sweater from all the beautiful silk/wool she dyed especially for Andrew- at my request.

Here is how far the sweater has gotten,



and I only have 156 days until Stitches West.

I better get crackin'.

Knitters Gone Wild!

That's right- what do you get when you combine wool, wine and women?

KNITTERS GONE WILD!

Unfortunately, Snoop Dog couldn't join us to do the videotaping, so you'll have to deal with my pictures and (very brief) synopsis.

Saturday:

Wake up at 7:30. People are supposed to be at the house by 8:00. Brush teeth, put on clothes, pack like a madwoman.

8:30: Start packing the van.
8:45: Start rolling.
9:00: Mandatory Starbucks run, since it's by the onramp.
9:15- 1:00 PM: Drive to Auburn. Take the wrong exit, because it's counter-intuitive. Get back on track, see a deer, see llamas, get to Knitters' Paradise (aka, Auntie C's house).

There were kittens, which provided loads of entertainment and snuggling

There was cake!

And, of course, there were Minions




There was much knitting and eating- and the charming L was there. By the end of the weekend we made her a Minion. It was glorious.

For Love or Money

I'm not one of those generous people who hands out hand-knitted gifts to everyone who crosses my path. I'm actually very stingy with my knitting.

According to the law of Knitting Supply & Demand, the more stuff I give away, the less people will appreciate ("Demand") it. This is even more important, because once someone wears hand knit socks, the commercial socks in the drawer lose their appeal, and the recipient of the lone pair of hand knit socks begins to ask/beg/negotiate for more.

[Except for old socks. Everyone loves those, and I gave away a drawer full (more to come in a year, I suppose) making room for all of the new socks I had knitted.]

I think it's funny when people (in a complimentary way) suggest that I sell my hand-knitted socks. They don't realize that the materials alone usually cost about $20, and easily have 16-20 hours of work in a pair. They considerately see it as a quaint little hobby that could earn me some pin money** [click the link if you don't know what pin money is].
Really? Some pin money of my VERY own? Why, how thoughtful! I think sarcastically, but I say, "Some things I do for love, and some I do for money."

D, my boss, calculated at a lunch meeting what a custom "Made by Jasmin" sweater would cost, given my hourly rate here. I laughed hysterically while he verbalized the math he was doing in his head. If only the rest of the world saw it like that.

I will admit, that at my most desperate of financial times, I have knit for pay, completing sweaters for between $150-$300. The hourly rate would make you weep bitter, bitter tears if you had to make a living this way.

It's just interesting to me. I find other people's generosity with their knitted items to be staggeringly touching, but with the limited knitting time that I have, I'm stingy.

I'll share my home, my food, even my money sometimes. But knit for you? Pffft.

Do I like you that much?

New and Greatly Improved

We got our new washer and dryer delivered! It's the Kenmore, HE4T, which I've been lusting after for ages.

I would have taken pictures, but the laundry room is a tight squeeze, and the washer complained that I was making her look fat. Vanity, thy name is Washer.

[Pictures courtesy of Sears.com. I don't know why they have a disproportionately large picture of the dryer. In real life, they are the same size on the outside, and are not so freakishly sized.]

Well, as much as you can lust after a washer/dryer. There's a lust scale, and although washer/dryers sit pretty low on the list, when it comes to buying one, it begins to matter more.

I immediately started doing laundry like a madwoman. Two weeks without a functioning dryer and a mutual hatred of taking wet laundry to the Laundromat means that I did six loads of laundry. SIX.

I love it. It's basically silent (it makes a hum), and the pre-set settings keep it quiet and balanced. I can leave the laundry room door open, and still be able to hear things. It's glorious.

So Much Fanfic…

I'll admit it. I read fanfic. I enjoy fanfic.

There's nothing funny about bad writing, except in the case of fanfic.

I read fanfic based on TV shows that I like, and I have to say, I have found ONE good author, **Mossley (CSI/House Fanfic), in slogging through the endless bogs of the fanfic webverse. The fanfic I have read through includes: West Wing, CSI, Criminal Minds, House, and probably a couple of others.

So, I was surfing the web for some House fanfic (because I am NOT addicted to House, M.D.), and 99% of what I came up with was a fair amount of House/Wilson slash fiction. Which is HILARIOUS/ a little hot. There was even one (I should have grabbed the link, sorry) where ALL OF the characters were gay. I thought I would die I was laughing so hard.

There was another piece where it was exactly like Virginia Woolf's Orlando. There is gender switching for every character- but no time travel. Yeah. Virginia Woolf did it better, and she still didn't overwhelm me with her literary prowess with Orlando, never mind some adolescent fanfic author.

**Some of the stuff is a little odd, but for the most part, I find that she captures the essence of the characters very well.

Just Say No

Maybe it's just me. Maybe it's the fact that I'll be 24 years old on Thanksgiving.

What possesses women to wear stage makeup as REGULAR makeup?!

Don't get me wrong; if wearing makeup makes you feel good- go for it. But you shouldn't be wearing greasepaint with your street clothes, is all I'm saying.**

I understand that when you know you're going to be photographed/are hoping to be photographed, that you should wear makeup that is super-flattering. But come on; under NORMAL lighting stage makeup looks like stage makeup. You can tell it's stage makeup from ten feet away. Not subtle, not natural.

Please, join my campaign to stop middle-aged women from applying makeup with a paint roller. Tell them to Just Say No.

**This statement is void if you're a drag queen trying to cover your stubble. Those girls at Sephora just don't sell anything strong enough to cover it.

***This message brought to you by the Campaign For Good Taste.

My Tomato

This is an old story. It pre-dates Sam.

I was little- about three years old. Mom and I were growing stuff in the backyard of the townhouse we lived in. I, young tomato lover that I was, saw a perfect, ripe tomato and was DYING to pick.

Mom, in her infinite wisdom, told me if I waited until the next morning it would be even better. I'm sure that she was trying to teach me some sort of virtue (like patience), or if it was merely a day short of utter tomato-ey perfection.

The next morning, I went to pick my perfect tomato, when I realized to my great horror, that SOMEONE ELSE had eaten half of my tomato. That's right. Some rude little vagrant rodent dined on my perfect tomato with a side of the basil we were growing. Good taste, bad rat!

Since then, there have been a number of rodents who I have hand fed delightful goodies, but I will never grow tomatoes again.

Stephanie, the Rockin’, Sockin’, Yarn Harlot

Yesterday, the MOTPS made the trek up to Full Thread Ahead to hear Stephanie Pearl-McPhee [the Yarn Harlot] speak, and to get our books signed.

Andrew was a champ. Here's how the day went:

2:00 PM: Andrew drives up to FTA alone, to get us signed in.
4:15 PM: MOTPS pile into Colleen's van, and drive up.
4:45 PM: We get there, claim our seats, and half of us go to Jamba for refreshments.
5:00 PM: Hollis does a few contest-y things. Andrew got to stand for three of them. He feels that he is an accomplished knitter now.
5:30 PM: Stephanie comes out to the podium, there is a roar of applause and cheers, and this:

I'll admit, I was a total dork. The dorkiest, even. I took her a Space Bag, the miracle invention that allows Andrew some storage space in our house. Every knitter should know and love the Space Bag. When Stephanie pointed out that they can't get plus-sized Ziploc bags in Canada, I stood up with pride, shook out the Space Bag and ran it up to the front for her.

Andrew said her expression was either shock or that she had seen the Holy Grail of yarn storage solutions. I'm going with the latter.

After the talk until 8:00 PM: Dinner at a sushi joint.
8:00-10:00 PM: Hanging around, chatting with knitters until the line slows down for signing. The MOTPS were second to last in line.

In a moment of temporary panic, I considered running out of the back door. I am such a huge fan, that I was overwhelmed for a moment.

Anyway, in classic Jasmin fashion, I admit that I am totally stalking her. In a good way. I suppose "SuperFan" may have been the more eloquent way of saying it, but Stephanie took it with good humor, and even took a picture (with the sock!) with the MOTPS. She had the misfortune of having to crouch in front of the three shortest MOTPS, and having to hold the crouch until the picture was taken.



Stephanie, the MOTPS love you, and next time you're in town, we should have beer. Or Shanty's. Or margaritas.

Oh yeah, and in true SuperFan form, here you go:

I Wish…

I wish I could do fashion drawing. My fashion drawings suck. They suck so hard that I have to write VERY descriptive explanations next to them. Making the drawings themselves basically pointless.

See?

I drew that when I was interning at XRX, and bought the yarn after work the same day. This:

is what the sweater looks like. Not bad, huh?

It is exactly how I envisioned it, but alas, not how I sketched it. See the problem? I can see it in my head, but alas, when it comes to paper and pen/cil, small children outdo me. Easily. You could say I'm more of a coloring-in kind of girl. And I can trace REALLY well. But draw? No.

I wish I could draw, period. Colleen brought over MOTPS logo concepts a few weeks ago (one of which I am getting tattooed on me, post-babies, to avoid odd and awkward stretching/distortion), and I was blown away. Blown away.

My mother can do fashion drawing. This is further proof that I was genetically HOSED. I bet my father can draw, too, and the crappy-drawing gene is recessive, and lucky me, I got it.

Mom likes my stick figures. That's about the best I can do. Maybe I'll post the book I wrote my senior year of high school for Econ. It's a children's book about supply and demand and, of course, yarn.

The Sunshine Ribbon Shell

This project has MAYBE two evenings worth of work left in it. It is a beautiful shade of golden sunshine yellow, and I had originally intended to have it finished by Maryland Sheep & Wool. I got it completed up to the armholes and then… couldn't finish it in time.

It happens.

As part of my UFO jihad, after I cast off the Harlot Red ribbon shell (same pattern, I'm boring and it looks amazing on me), I picked up the Sunshine shell. I still love the color.

I was re-enamored of this project, and in a fit of glory and enthusiasm, walked into the bathroom to see how the color would flatter me. I'd already picked out what to wear with it, but I wanted to revel in its' beauty and splendor.

Oh. My. God.

I looked like I had jaundice. I was finished with the back and about to start the neck shaping. NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I had to think fast. I showed all of the MOTPS [Minions Of The Pointy Sticks] the top, hoping the color would flatter someone. The only one it flattered was Cynthia. Who is at least 6-8 inches taller than me, and considerably bustier.

What to do? I called Melinda of Tess Yarns. I mentioned how popular the color was when I was working on the top at Stitches West, and then I said:

"Can you overdye the top so that I don't look dead in it?"

So, after SW 2007, I will be the proud owner of the Ribbon-Top-Formerly-Known-As-Sunshine.

I think I may draw it a symbol.

Insanely Cute Elphie Pic

On Saturday, we caught Elphie sleeping:

This doesn't look like a dog who eats softcover books, now does she? :)

Fugly Socks

I've been on this finishing kick (or UFO jihad, if you prefer), and while I was re-organizing the stash to be more space-efficient, I pulled out the yarn for the shop sample socks I knit in August of 2004. Since they were shop samples (which dutifully were there until we sold out of each colorway), I didn't feel compelled to knit their mates immediately.

So, a few months ago I found myself with a half dozen pairs of socks. I looked at them, UFOs that they were and thought, "I can boost my FO count if I just knit the mate to these."

It's amazing. I don't have second sock syndrome, because there has been enough time between the first and second sock that it's new and fun and fabulous again. So the cure for SSS is a two-year separation period from the initial dose of sock.

Except for the sock I cast on Saturday. It the brown/tan/salmon/blue Meilenweit. It is inexplicably fugly. I know this, because that's where I looked for the color number so any of my 5 readers could find it (in the unlikely event that they found it attractive). This color is so ugly that it's not even on the Lana Grossa website.

I think they were ashamed. It came off of the production line, they knitted a sample, and were horrified. But as P.T. Barnum cleverly pointed out, people like me are born every minute.

The tragic irony of the fugly color, is that it matches a million things I have that AREN'T fugly. I finished the second sock, but criminy. I'm surprised that anyone bought it once they saw what it looked like. It looked nice enough in the ball. I was bamboozled.

The only downfall of my brilliant SSS cure is that two years ago, I liked a different heel. I liked the shortrowed heel for about a year. I no longer like doing it or wearing the garter-stitch version of this heel. Standard flap heels work better in non-clog shoes. I'm doing a regular flap heel on their mates, so the socks are a little more fraternal than normal. S'all good, I say.

[Note: I am not an anal-retentive knitter that requires my socks to be identical. In high school, I regularly wore mismatched socks deliberately. My mother, who dutifully was knitting me completed pairs of socks then, was a little miffed with this particular fashion decision. I only wear matched socks now because I do the laundry and want to know which socks the dogs have stolen out of the basket.]

When I started this jihad against my UFO's, I pulled my favorite half-pair, which has only been held up because I no longer am in love with the garter-stitch short-row heel. I'm sorry, it's great in clogs, but not ideal in regular shoes. Now that I'm in regular shoes more than clogs, this is a big deal.

I've gotten rid of 95% of my garter-heeled socks. These socks were distributed globally. (Seriously, someone sent a few pairs to her sister in Germany.) This is fine with me; not only is my sock drawer still full to the bursting point, I have enough sock yarn to knit socks through the apocalypse. Seriously. [Another reason that the Yarn Diet is necessary- I have entire Space Bags full of exclusively sock yarn.]

Anyway- I bought yarn for Day-Glow socks on the honeymoon (in Seattle at the Acorn Street Yarn Shop **), - I knit the first one right after the honeymoon- when I was in the midst of my love affair with the garter heel.

I didn't get second sock syndrome, only because I had to pack everything when we moved into the house, so the cuff of the second sock was at the completed to the beginning of the no-longer loved garter heel. Every time I saw this sock, I was saddened that I no longer loved the heel, and would undoubtedly never wear it.

In the spirit of the UFO jihad, I decided that I would not be defeated. I ripped out the first sock to the beginning of the heel. HA! Everyone knows that once the heel is done, the sock is basically finished.

Easy cheese.

**If you find yourself in Seattle, and near Acorn Street Yarn Shop, make sure to go up the street to Nana's Soup House. It will change your life.

Some Personal Goals

I was just thinking about how hard I thought the yarn diet was going to be. As the days keep increasing, I find myself wanting less and being pleased with the amount of yarn that has gone from being "Just Yarn Taking Up Space" to "Look at what I finished!".

This is very Zen. Less is more. It's not about having what you want, it's about wanting what you have, and all that. Seriously.

I am not feeling overwhelmed and guilty anymore; I am triumphant. Every project that is finished gets logged on the sidebar (and photographed, once I have a really good hair and makeup day), and shows my continued commitment to achieving my self-imposed goals.

Granted the JYTUS has a purpose, duh, it's my stash. I will never be one of those knitters who buys one project at a time and doesn't buy more yarn until it is finished. That's unrealistic to expect out of me. I love my yarn, I just think I would enjoy it more if I had higher project turnaround than yarn intake.

Bear in mind the fact that we're planning to remodel in January/February and put the house on the market (hopefully) by March. Moving again is part of my inspiration to get things done/ destash a little. I hate the actual moving part of moving, but I love living somewhere new and different and bigger (hopefully). I just hate the packing and the moving and the unpacking.

Goal-setting works for me, because there is something to work towards (versus the amorphous, I'll-do-it-whenever attitude). I'm hoping to finish up enough FOs that the balance can fit in my home office/knitting den. (Right now there are a couple of bins full of FO's in varying stages of completion.)

Oh, and I finished the Harlot red ribbon top. That's right, I finished it in about 2 weeks, so that I can wear it to the Yarn Harlot book signing on Saturday. Woo!

That's makes 45 FO's this calendar year to date! (In case you were curious.) With last year's September – December FO count, I should hit 55 by the end of the year. We'll see!

RIP Dryer...

That's right.

My dryer is no longer of this world. We won't necessarily mourn the loss of our dryer, so much as celebrate the new washer/dryer that we're [hopefully] going to pick up this week.

That'll do, dryer.