'snow surprise

 

As an antidote to the fine yarn and slender needles of Broderie, and a balm to heal the subsequent wound of losing Broderie, I needed a near-instant gratification, heavier-gauge project. Meet Snow White, yet another gorgeous pattern by Ysolda. The image to the left is the completed body; I know it looks absurdly small, but I can assure you that it stretches to fit me (thanks in part to that magical cast-on I was talking about). 

This will be my eighth jumper this year. As I write this, on 09/09/09, I am a little annoyed that it is not my ninth, especially as it could so easily be - all I have to do on my Hey, Teach is seam it and knit the button band. To be honest, though, I have rather fallen out of love with this project, as signalled by the fact that I have banished its dismembered pieces to the darkest recesses of my wardrobe. I am considering ripping it out and continuing my Ysolda fixation with another Liesl,  inspired by Alana's beautiful version.

Oh, I forgot to mention, this red yarn is itself recycled from the abortive Lush and Lacy Cardigan.

Here comes the summer

The dismembered limbs of Hey, Teach! are drying, waiting to be pieced together. This is my first time setting in sleeves, and I'm a little nervous. The thought of having a nifty, hand-knitted item in which to shimmy about in the sunshine is enough to make up for a little sleeve-cap finagling. 

I have also been working on these...
I sort of despise the sugared almond colours of the yarn... I bought it when I was a new knitter and easily beguiled by variegation, and I am very happy to be expelling it from my stash. Whether or not I'll ever want to coat my feet with fairy vomit is another matter. Socks are so supremely portable; I think I'm going to try always to have one in my bag for snatched moments of knitting time.

Stitches in time (and bouncy castles)

I have been listening to Anne of Green Gables on audio book as I knit my Hey, Teach! cardigan. This was one of my very favourite books as a child, and I have been amazed at how much detail I have remembered. Equally, however, I am definitely appreciating new things about it... I doubt I picked up on the knitting content first time around, for example! The book starts with a woman knitting, and I have just come to the part where Anne goes back to school, and is welcomed back thus:

'Sophia Sloane offered to teach her a perfectly elegant new pattern of knit lace: so nice for trimming aprons'

It feels appropriate to be engaging in an activity that would have been so familiar to women and girls at the time whilst listening to a story about them. I'm not sure whether Anne herself, or non-fictional versions of her, would always have enjoyed knitting: I have read about children being made to sit and knit a certain number of rounds on a sock before they were allowed to go out and play. Nevertheless, it was a common currency of knowledge which, as 'Sophia Sloane' shows, could be shared and passed on, and it is nice to think that I too can participate in it. I suppose I do not have the same need to knit that Victorian women did  (my legs may still be warm even if I do not knit myself stockings), nor quite the same uses for it (I have yet to experience the urge to trim an apron...), but I bet they paused every now and again to stretch and admire their work in exactly the same way that I do.

I wonder if, conversely, they glowered at things that did not turn out quite the way they had envisaged? I have been doing so at Forecast. I did what I was talking about, and ripped out and re-knit the button-hole band (on the left in the picture below), picking up fewer stitches, which I think now looks just about ok. The button band, on the other hand, which I had previously thought was perfectly passable, now appears flared by comparison. I decided to block it, and see which side looked better. I'll keep you posted...

In the meantime, here are some things I love about Cambridge:

The de-stressing bouncy castle that the college erects every exam term.

I've passed this poster in the pigeonhole room a few times, and finally got round to photographing it. In case you can't make it out, someone has taken the time to modify its message to 'Do you think you are an academic?'.