Debatable Knitting

So, I didn't plan on blogging right now...I'm too busy with school work to blog. However, the system is currently down, and I can't read what my writing assignment is, and I'm sitting here at the circulation desk in the library with nothing to do except cover for my inept colleague...

But on that note, I have been knitting this scarf. At Webs (the most amazing LYS a knitter could dream of), I found this lovely fingering weight yarn dyed by the Kangaroo Dyer as if it were specifically for my mother--the woman has an unnatural obsession with lime green and hot pink. So, I bought the yarn, knowing that she would of course appreciate another pair of cozy socks for Christmas. Well, this was before she came up to college and simply gushed over my Lace Ribbon scarf (which I admittedly have also gushed over), and said that she would like a scarf just like it. Out the window goes Heather's plan, as she examines how unpleasantly pooly the yarn intended for socks is getting with each scarf pattern she attempts. I, of course, refused to do the Lace Ribbon scarf again, for fear of death by monotony, even though that pattern would undoubtedly be perfect. 

Then, out of the blue--an idea--a crazy, wild, somewhat logical idea...if I couldn't find a nice scarf pattern to knit up with my sock yarn...then why not...maybe, possibly...a sock pattern? It was just crazy enough to work. Linda Welch's "Spring Forward" socks immediately came to mind, and set me off on a knitting paradox. It's a sock pattern; but it's a scarf. It's a springy pattern, and an even springier colorway (wow, I can't believe "springier is even a word); but it's intended to be a Christmas gift. 

Oh, and I knit it while watching the debate.
It was really the only way to occupy me while John McCain spoke. I also yelled at the TV as if I were my father (or Kristen's mother) watching a football game. Yay, politics? I had a point to this when I originally took these photographs...but anyway, I suppose it provides even more irony to the scarf--it's dainty pink and green was formed into delicate swirls while I watched the zigzagging, course lies of red versus blue on my TV screen. 

Oh, and vote Obama. Please. Do us all a favor.

Do Feminists still love knitting? Answer: Indeed they do

I am one who can admit when I have harbored a misconception. Here I freely admit that I was off about how my teacher and feminists in general perceived the wonderful art of fiber crafting. Sitting in class some time after my original post, I continued knitting on my lovely socks (which are now complete!!!!). My professor was lecturing on something or another when, somewhat suddenly, she gestured to my DPN's and said,(please understand I am paraphrasing) "Knitting, that was also very important in the early feminist movement. I had a student, a very good student, who knitted and she actually went on to start a group in Baltimore based around it, but knitting was used in CRG's (consciousness raising group) quite often." I managed not to let my jaw drop, but I was quite flabbergasted. In truth it made sense. After all, fiber crafting still brings women (yes I know men knit but for the sake of argument bear with the classification) together so much in this century, and heaven knows we all talk much more freely when our hands are busy. I found myself rather ashamed of my earlier presumption, and I have started to do a little digging on the subject. I am a little stymied at the moment, but I have every intention of going to speak to my professor soon to see if she can tell me a little more. The point here is, knitting is embraced by many in the feminist movement and it is as much apart of the legacy of the movement as it is part of the history of the world. Remember that the next time you pick up your needles, and may it remind you that you belong to a rich tradition that has woven itself into the core of centuries and centuries of human ability. 

Maggie: A Hat of the Streets

So, seeing as I currently only have one project on my plate--a pair of socks that was exciting the LAST time I made them, but is currently very boring with yet another sock to go. Therefore, I decided to indulge myself just this once. I've had this lovely alpaca (Classic Elite Inca Print, to be exact) sitting in my stash since I came upon it many months ago, on a yarnage expedition with SuperKnitter and my co-blogger. It was in this lovely, cramped little store called the Yarn Garden in Meriden, CT. Anyway, I was drawn by the delightful colors--they're earthy, but in a bright, autumn-y kind of way.

Little did I expect that I would actually have the hat I anticipated to knit by the fall! I wanted a simple pattern, something that wouldn't be obscured by the variegation, as well as something that I could knit mindlessly during class. Max's Staircase Tam by Robin DeWeese was just such a pattern. Unfortunately, after casting on and knitting the ribbing, I noticed that my size 8 circ was not, as I had thought, 19", but rather something along the lines of 29"...not good for a hat. But I could no longer wait! The warmth, the softness, the autumnal glory of the yarn would not leave my hands willingly. So I...improvised. Basically, it involved shoving a lot of stitches on some very short DPNs, and securing the ends with rubber bands...

I suppose I should get back to the hat. Yes. It is named for the thoughts that I dwelled upon while knitting it. In my lit. class, namely The Novel in the U.S., 1900-1945, we have just finished reading Stephen Crane's Maggie: A Girl of the Streets (which is neither a novel, nor of the 20th century). The pathetic jerry-rigging of my needles reminded me of the tragic heroine's attempts to use bright cloth and ribbons to dress up her family's dismal Bowery apartment. I also imagined, romantic that I am, that this hat would be the type of thing Maggie might wear while wandering the friendless New York streets in the dead of winter. I'm a romantic, I know. Anyway, this hat is therefore dedicated to Maggie, as well as to the professor who let me knit the entire thing during the discussions of the novella.

Scarf-ly Pride: Or, Too Many Tissues

Blegh, I have a cold. Everyone on my floor was getting sick, and I did my best to avoid them. I even went home this weekend, thinking I was in the clear, and all fine and healthy, when suddenly, my allergies took a phlegmy turn for the worse. Pleasant, yes? Well, me, my red nose, and my box of tissues that is transported from class to class across campus have not had much time to knit.  (I am OBSESSED)!

We have had time, however, to admire the joy that is, in my mind, my greatest knitted achievement. You see, I am obsessed with scarves. Not even so much the knitting, as the wearing. Nothing feels more secure than walking around in a mild spring breeze, the brisk fall wind, or bitter winter weather than with a fluttering length of loveliness dancing around your neck. And so, naturally, since the age of five I have been hell bent on knitting the perfect scarf. Back in the day, they would usually result in holey, misshapen blankets for my stuffed animals. When knitting returned to me with such fiery passion in high school, I made multiple ugly scarves, itchy, fluffy, too long, too hot, and too boring. Lately, I haven't had time to knit anything that includes the tedium and dedication that a scarf requires, and have resorted to socks and other cozy winter garments that aren't nearly as fun to wear. 

And then the Lace Ribbon Scarf came into my life, in a cloud of sunset-colored yarn, smooshy, delicious, ambiguously neutral yet vibrant...I am OBSESSED with this scarf, to the point where sensible rambling is not sufficient...I must ramble incoherently now, as well! Well, it's soft, and smooshy, and I blocked it on my bedroom floor when I went home for the weekend; in perfect spirit of the perfect scarf, the yarn blocked in the most perfect fashion. It's perfect. I love it. I will wear it all of the time, and it's specialness will never diminish as my first wonderful, good, best, superlative, amazing, once again smooshy scarf. 

...If only it would get down past the 70's this week, I could actually WEAR it.

Look! LOOK!

Hey, hey, look! LOOK! I have only one project right now...I'm knitting ONE THING!!! Do you know how exciting that is? The last time I didn't have multiple projects was last summer...over a year ago...and the minute I learned how to knit socks, that went out the window. ONE project! ONE! And it's a pair of knee socks for me, ones that I've been knitting since last December and have put last to other projects for other people! ONE PROJECT! Can you believe it?

I guess I should start knitting Christmas presents now.

A Great Milestone

So, college is a pretty fabulous institution. It is funny how I built this place up in my mind, and I have found it to be even better in practice. I can't thank the Lord enough for teaching me time management when I was in high school because now I find I am able to garner time for things like reading and, of course, knitting. Still, I felt rather accomplished when the other night I crossed a great threshold in the realm of fiber crafting; I have discovered a way to knit and read my text books at the same time. Seriously, I had heard of many knitters who could do the unimaginable reading and fiber crafting at the same time, but I had never considered myself capable of dividing my attention so. But that was before my Women's Studies course. 

Reading 24 pages out a text book is fairly brutal, and made even more so by the fact that is is 24 pages filled with crazy terms and definitions basically bashing our society. I was fading, barely comprehending the sentences when suddenly, the preverbal light turned on in my cerebral area. I quickly grabbed my lap desk, two jumbo binder clips, and my knitting (a lovely Towson spirit scarf being carried out in the form of a basic stockingnette with a garter stitch border to lessen the curling.) I clipped the book open on my lap desk so that it would stay open, but I was still capable of turning pages. I attacked the book with far more enthusiasm now that my fingers were engaged.  I felt so ridiculously smart and accomplished I almost called all my knitting friends right there just to tell them about the experience. But, alas, I figured I found it more amazing than anyone else ever would. So, I will content myself with posting it here, and hope that those who happen to stumble upon it might find it just as wondrous as myself. WARNING: If anyone in high school or middle school is thinking about trying this please be warned: the binder clips do leave very visible marks on the pages and if you do not own the book I would highly recommend seeking an alternative route to reading and knitting at the same time.

Attention Deficiency

So, I'm in this awesome course this semester, and Intro. to Neuropsychology, which breaks down the brain and the mind and their inner workings, both tangible and elusive. Fun stuff (for me, anyway). Unfortunately, my professor, Jay, while an awesome guy, has an extraordinary sense of the brain's capabilities. He feels that attention is his class should not be divided, because he knows how much attentions lack the minute they are divided beyond the normal fields of left and right spheres of vision. Thus, I am not allowed to knit in his class. Sadness.

However, while I may not be able to carry my knitting around to my T/Th classes, my M/W humanities professors, Christoph and Michele are both very open to knitting while discussing the philosophical implications of "alienation", or the supposed "Great American Novel"...did I mention that I have really, really cool classes this semester? My only downside to all this in-class knitting is the novel a week and then some that I'll have to cram in, thus leaving much less time to knit! Ah, well...at least I'm almost done with Nate's socks.

Do Feminists still love knitting?

Today was an epic day; the first day of classes. I awoke eagerly, packed my bag, and hoarked a Nutri Grain bar as I booked it across campus for my first class. In all classes, I worked on my heelless socks, but as I sat knitting in my Women's Studies course, I began to quiver slightly inside my flats. The professor spoke of activism and how our society represses it. She spoke of how the class was founded on the hard labor of feminists before us and how if we did not want our world shaken up, we should leave the class. Through all this my fingers continue to knit. Her eyes shoot to me occasionally, but no more than the others. Still, I could not help feeling slightly guilty when she informed us that we were all living under conservative views. Is knitting still considered a repressive hand craft by the reformist feminist? (I just learned what that was tonight as I read my assigned chapters.) Should I be concerned that I am obsessed with a practice that happens to be an age- old art practiced by women living under a patriarchal sexist system where women are just as sexist as men, but benefit less from it? Answer: No freakin way!

Big Knit On Campus

So, here I am, at Hampshire College! Yay! It's exciting to be in the presence of the unwashed activist masses. As you can imagine, I've encountered many knitters over the past week of orientation, but as far as I can tell, I am the most devout. I've had hippie after hippie simply OGGLE at the pair of socks I'm knitting for my darling boyfriend, marveling at the intricacy of my craft--in all honesty, it's one of the easiest sock patterns I've ever encountered. It is true that I swelled with pride upon mentioning that I had also hand-dyed the yarn, which sent the observers into fits of bewilderment.

So, it's nice to be embraced by a community that appreciates natural fibers, and self-sustaining crafts, and people who enjoy climbing trees and knitting in them, as I did in the apple orchard yesterday. And now I sense the now-familiar aroma of cannabis wafting through my window. Ah well. I can't wait to start teaching all of the 20 people (if they show up) that I've promised I would teach to knit, or to knit socks instead of scarves, or their first hat...I feel like the expert on campus!