Monogamy in February

I do not like February. It’s dark and cold and leftover guilt from New Year’s resolutions clouds my enjoyment of the days. I can’t get out to walk much, getting together with friends seems like a lot of effort, and it is quite clear that Spring Shall Never Come Again.

I eat a lot of chocolate in February. It doesn’t really help.

This is all a prelude to admitting to you that I have not finished my Celtic Dreams Aran sweater in time for SPA, now only two days away. I bet you all thought that the absence of my chatty self from Blogland meant that I was saving up my energies for knitting ferociously away on Celtic Dreams.

Well, no.

I have gotten quite a bit done, and I’ve enjoyed it immensely, but somehow I don’t think the photo below shows the start of a new fashion trend, do you?

Even with the addition of the other newly cast-on project, seen below, I don’t think you’ll see me on the cover of Vogue Knits anytime soon.

In fact, let’s just display ALL of the projects I have cast on, and yet somehow not yet finished, since the beginning of the year. I haven't finished a damn thing in 2007.

Now you see why February is not my favorite month.

On Schedule

And here we have Installment #1: the saddle shoulders and the completed upper back. You see, Celtic Dreams is a top-down Aran. In fact, to quote from the pattern in Interweave Knits, Fall, 1997, "This sweater ... is worked from the top down and features saddle shoulders, square armholes, Aran motifs, and a deep skirt (as the traditional Aran ribbing is called)." Two of the features of this sweater are new to me: saddle shoulders and twist stitches (seen along the sides of the saddles). I've enjoyed both!

In fact, aside from a certain problem in getting the upper back going (you'd think there would only be one topology in which the saddles are right-side-up and one is picking up stitches along the long side, but you'd be wrong), I've really enjoyed this so far.

I have already made a few mistakes in the cables, as may be evident in this close-up. I like to think of them as the requisite biological diversity needed for further random evolution of the Aran style, and I'm going to leave them. In fact, I kind of like them. Makes this look as though a human made (is making) this, although, of course, in reality I'm a demi-god, but you already knew that.

Knitting these cables is making my hands hurt a bit, but interestingly, after a few hours, my hands stop hurting. It's as if my tendons finally get really warmed up and settle down to the task. I'm hoping my hands stay equal to this task, because I'm already thinking I ought to sub in different cable patterns to this general shape and knit up another Aran sweater from the other bag of Tahki Donegal. We'll see how I feel once I try this on and see how it fits.

Well, I suppose I better shut up and get tonight's assigned knitting completed. I believe I only have half the upper front scheduled for tonight - that's only 30 rows or so.

I am a dreamer.

I'm a Nut. But You Knew That.

I have been trying, really I have, to resist the siren call of SPA. I don't need another feast of fiber offered up for my acquisition; I'm trying to cut down my stash. (Remind me to tell you later about the laceweight I bought this week, by the way.)

What's SPA? It's a small spot of paradise in the midst of a New England winter. Knitters, spinners, crocheters, tatting-ers, all of us fiber fanatics, are invited to Portland, Maine, on Saturday, February 17th, and thereabouts, to hang out.

Let me repeat that.

We get to hang out together.

I need that. I need more fiberous hanging-out. Thus, when the temperature here dropped to below zero Fahrenheit and I've had a very cranky week and I get an email from the New England Textile Arts crew saying, yep, y'all come hang out, you hear - well, I responded. I forwarded the email to Sue - yes, the same Sue that endured me and Rhinebeck together in Rhinebeck - and said, Sue, dearest, darling, sugarplum, would you drag me there? (Since she has family in Portland, family who knit, family who are welcoming and charming and have extra beds.) Sue rose to the challenge. We're going! Wahoo!

Which brings me to the point: I need something to wear to SPA. Something I've knit. Something that looks good and is suitable for a coastal New England city in February. You know. Something to show off to other knitters.

Surprisingly, I have nothing. I have no hand-knit socks. I have several handknit coats, but you can't wear those inside. I don't have any handknit shawls, not that are finished, anyway. My scarves - meh. The sweaters - well, let's just say I'm not good at forseeing how things will look on me. I'm sure that you all will be very kind and tell me I look great in fuzzy purple mohair with horizontal striping, but you really shouldn't lie like that.

So I need to knit something new. Something stunning. Something from my stash, something that flatters me, something I want to knit.

Somnething I want to knit so much, I can finish it in three weeks. [Hah!]

Remember the Knitting Olympics? I failed miserably. I prepared assiduously - I swatched, I plotted, I bought yarn, I cast on as the torch was lit. Yet I forgot the most important part: I didn't care for the entrelac I signed up for. It was fiddly. Annoying. Even worse - boring. I quit about three days into the process.

But this time will be different.! [More hah!] This time I shall succeed! [This time I really am nuts!]

Thus, I give you the challenge: Celtic Dreams, by Beth Brown-Reinsel.

Yep, I'm really nuts.

Now, I've had a hankering this week to knit something from Tahki's Donegal Tweed. I happen to have two bags of this yarn in my stash, in a bright blue and a gray blue. I chose the bright blue.

In my table of stashed yarn, I had noted three patterns that would work with this yarn. I chose Celtic Dreams.

So I balled up the yarn.

I circled the right numbers on my photocopy of the pattern.

I swatched. I figured out that I need to knit about 70 yards a day for three weeks straight starting tomorrow - about 2.7 balls a week - to finish on time. And I cast on for the first saddle shoulder strip.

Wish me luck. Lots of luck.

It Was an Exciting Game....

...as you can see by my wavering yarnover there third from the left. And, of course, the Patriots lost, alas.

Resolution #1

I did it! I figured out how to post my 2007 resolutions over there in my sidebar - see for yourself!

...[pause for audience to grasp the magnitude of what I've done]...

Which means that I have completed Resolution #1. Not bad for the middle of January, I'd say. Now if one of you omnicompetent knit-bloggers can tell me how to change the font size, color, styles, etc., over there, I'd be all set. I want those resolutions there to remind me gently, not to hog the whole bloggie show and kick me in the ass every time I come here. Do I need to go buy myself HTML for Dummies, assuming there is such a thing?

In fact, I'm so pleased with myself (hey, it doesn't take much to set my feet to dancing), I added two more resolutions: crochet something, and find 10 more rare species sites in this state. I'm an easy sucker for trendiness, not that I'm trendy, you understand, it's just that I want to be like all the cool people, so last year I couldn't resist buying Debbie Stoller's Happy Hooker, and I wanna make something from it. As for rare species, well, there's hardly anything I enjoy more than wading through bogs and climbing steep bouldery slopes in search of rare species. I didn't get to do much of that the past two years, between breaking my leg in 2005 and the incessant rain this past summer, so I'm resolved to change that this year.

And thank you for saying my new shell doesn't look all that bad. You're right, of course; it's just always a shock for me to really look at myself and realize I'm not the slender young slip of a thing I was thirty years ago. But I won't dwell on that thought today; it's gray and dripping freezing rain outside, so I'm not exactly cheery myself. And on that note, let's go admire my new sidebar to cheer ourselves up, shall we?

The Best-Laid Plans

You may remember that I signed off a week or so ago with the promise that I would be adding my 2007 resolutions to the sidebar. Obviously that hasn't happened yet, because of all the other events this week that got in the way, namely:

• my phone line going dead last weekend;
• a minor car accident Monday morning;
• various night meetings; and
• Earle's struggles, over several days, to install DSL on my computer.

A lovely week it was, capped off by utterly lousy weather this weekend - gray, drizzly, just above freezing. Anyhow, here I am again, promising once more to add those resolutions just to our right here. Maybe tomorrow, if I have the inner fortitude.

In the meantime, I discovered just how much I can get done without the Internet to distract me. I read a good book, Peter Hessler's River Town, a fascinating tale of Hessler's two years in the Peace Corps, teaching literature in a small city on the Yangtze in China. It had nothing to do with knitting and yet I loved it. Furthermore, I'm two-thirds of the way through Memoirs of a Geisha, a stunning novel by Arthur Golden. And thank you, Cathy and Emily, for your reading recommendatiuons; I'll check those out. Interestingly, I've already read Number One Ladies' Detective Agency; my mother gave it to me last year, saying she enjoyed it immensely.

And I've finished the body of the shell I started on Christmas Eve. You may wonder why I say I finished the body of the shell, no doubt thinking to yourself, aren't shells all body and no sleeves? You would be right, of course, except I was debating all along whether I would leave this sleeveless or not. I decided to wait to try it on before making the sleevedness choice.

To review, here's an earlier pic with the right color.

And here's a bad photo of me wearing the shell. You'd get a better photograph, except as you will remember, the weather's lousy, so no sun, plus Earle's feeling pretty lousy himself, so I didn't want to ask him to take a photo.

I love this yarn, Berger du Nord's Charmant, a silk/wool blend. This knits up beautifully, changing gauge just a little when washed and blocked (which I remembered to do to the gauge swatch, by some miracle). Even better, I got this on 40%-off sale! I love this pattern, the shell from Joan Forgione's Thorn and Thistle Twinset in the Summer 2006 Interweave Knits. However, I don't love this shell on me. I was foolish enough to try this one as soon as I finished the crocheted picot edging around the neck. Over the jeans I had on, it looked like crap on me. More precisely, it magnified all my oddly bumpy plumpness, being lovely, drapey fabric.

I tell you, there's nothing like having something one has just finished look like crap on oneself to thoroughly discourage one from ever being in a good mood again. And did I mention that it's gray and raw here as well? Thus, I consulted my sage advisors at the Knittyboard, who offered chocolate to sooth my troubled psyche, recommended the use of appropriate undergarments, and counseled adding sleeves. I added in a short visit to Webs to that list. The photo above shows me wearing appropriate undergarments and sucking in my tummy. I think that, with sleeves (probably 3/4-length) and maybe a short cardigan (gee, it was designed as a twinset, you know), this might be OK on me.

In other knitting news, I've been plugging away on a simple shawl, design from Victorian Lace Today, out of my handspun. This is maybe one-third done, plus there will be a border, so I have my mindless work cut out for me. Exactly what I need right now, with the addition of chocolate, of course.

Restlessness

[cue harmonica]

I've got dem full-moon, mid-winter, post-holiday, mid-life, bored-to-tears blues.

[cut harmonica]

I'm cranky. I'm bored. I have been virtuously slaving away on the front of the mint green silk/wool shell....purl one row, k4, p1 the next row - boring.

I have virtuously avoided acquiring more yarn - I did not go to Webs on Tuesday for the monthly spinning group meeting, I did not go to the SnB in Greenfield Wednesday night (I've never made it there, but anyhoo), I am not going to take a learn-to-weave class in the next town over (because I do not need another fiber-related escapade), I've decided not to go to SPA next month, I'm meeting Pat tomorrow and we're not going to Woolpack, we're going clothes shopping instead, I resisted buying anything at the Cherry Tree Hill sale and the Redbird Knits sale and all the other end of year sales, and I've just torn myself away from the Brooks Farm website. [no wonder I'm cranky; I'm going through withdrawal]

I'm set up carpooling with friends from work, most of the lights in the house now have fluorescent bulbs, I've noted on my calendar the dates of upcoming concerts and whatnot, I removed all the edible holiday treats from tempting me (translation: I ate them), I even dusted the bookshelves in my bedroom. And I am restless, bored, cranky.

So, dear readers, help me liven up my life. Cathy, oh Lively Librarian, please do recommend some books for me to read - maybe a mix of books on what is the meaning of life anyhow and pure escapism chick lit? Jennifer - what else can I do to reduce my electrical use - set up a clothes line? Adjust the fridge temperature? Stop spending so much time on the computer? Elizabeth, um, does it count if I line the walls of my bedroom with yarn and fiber? That must count as insulation, right? I might need a little more "insulation", if that's the case. Btw, I'm going to try to get those resolutions into the sidebar this weekend, so expect a panicky email shortly. Batty, we should just order the kits before the price goes up (not that it's going to, I hope) and have our own little KAL. Stariel, there is no way in hell that I'm not going back to Rhinebeck, resolution or no resolution, so don't you worry your sock-covered little mind about that, OK? Plus, doesn't everyone screw up their New Year's resolutions? Why should I be any different?

I think I'll go make some hot chocolate and fondle some Sea Silk. Maybe by the end of the weekend, I'll be human again.

Ten Percent of My Resolve

It's that time of year again, gang - time to resolve, to be resolute, to make the New Year's resolutions that will be forgotten by the end of January. This year, however, my first resolution is to figure out how to put these goals for 2007 into the sidebar of this blog, so that they will stare me in the face every time I check in. That's Resolution #1.

Then there are the Knitting Resolutions. You already know about #2.

Resolution #2: I shall reduce my stash of yarn, fiber, and unfinished projects by 10% by the end of 2007, down from the totals counted up in November of 2006. [We shall ignore, for the moment, the fact that I have yet to count up my fiber stash.] You will remember that I have quite a lot, quite a whole lot, of yarn and fiber and UFOs, so this is a pretty ambitious goal. The hardest part is going to be resisting going to yarn sales.

Furthermore, I have several more knitting-related goals for 2007:

Resolution #3: From the fiber I bought at Rhinebeck 2006, I shall spin up and knit two projects for me to wear to Rhinebeck 2007. I'm aiming for a shawl (which I've already started and, once I get past the first ten rows or so, I'll show you) (aren't I virtuous? I've already spun up this yarn AND cast on) and a sweater, one project for each day of Rhinebeck. If these two projects aren't completed, I shall not go to Rhinebeck.

Resolution #4: From the three projects' worth of yarn I bought at my LYS's December 2006 Midnight Madness sale, I shall complete one project and wear it to the 2007 Midnight Madness sale. If nothing is completed, I shall not go to the 2007 sale. (I'm positively aglow with virtue here; I've already finished, well, not the weaving in of ends nor the blocking, but I have indeed finished knitting up the back of a shell from one of these three yarns. See yesterday's post, if you don't believe me.)

Resolution #5: Knit myself a Hanne Falkenberg Mermaid, probably in this colorway. I've loved this jacket ever since Wendy knit one.

Resolution #6: Design and knit a sweater of many colors, something Fair Isle-ish. I want to push myself to create something of my own and I'm feeling very drawn to classic Fair Isles in subdued and graded colors.

Resolution #7: Design and knit a sweater with cables and textures. Just like with Fair Isle, I'm finding myself drawn to classic Aran fisherman sweaters. I even bought the yarn for this at my LYS's Midnight Madness sale.

Resolution #8: Knit one damned pair of socks, just to see what all the excitement is about.

Resolution #9: Knit for charity. Specifically, I want to finish my striped-block afghan for Afghans for Afghans, a kid's vest and five hats for Afghans for Afghans, and something for the Athol Bird and Nature Club to auction off at their annual meeting in October, maybe a scarf and hat set with some sort of nature theme.

Resolution #10: Create the Fernsworthy pattern that's been rolling around in my head. Details to follow, when I know them.

Well, that ought to keep me busy! Plus, I have some non-knitting goals, of course:

Resolution #11: Reduce my weight by 10% (hey, it's a classic New Year's resolution, and I need it).

Resolution #12: Reduce my driving mileage by 10%. I drive an hour to work each way and my annual mileage over the past six years is 33,000 miles, which is unconscionable. So, to meet this resolution, I have to drive an average of 2,475 miles or fewer a month. Hold on a sec, I'll go see how many miles are on the car right now...... OK, there are 259, 564 miles on the old Corolla today. That means by January 1, 2008, there should be no more than 289,264 miles on it, an addition of 29,700 miles. (Then I suppose I'll have to start thinking about a newer car, too!)

Resolution #13: Reduce my annual usage of electricity by 10%. Obviously, this goes right along with reducing the amount I drive. I'd aim for reducing my use of heating oil, too, but I just put in a new and much more efficient furnace, so I think I'm set for reduced use of oil. On the electric bill, my electric company prints how many kilowatt-hours I used this month and how many I used in the corresponding month last year, so it'll be easy to keep track.

Resolution #14: Read 10 non-knitting books. I'm getting way too single-minded about knitting and spinning; I need to remind myself there's something else to life besides fiber. Ten books is pretty minimal, but it's a start.

Resolution #15: See 10 movies in the theatre, and Resolution #16: Attend 10 cultural events (plays, concerts, museums, etc.; fiber festivals do not count as cultural events for this goal). See Resolution #14 above.

So, am I nuts or what?

The Final Productive Moments of 2006

The completed hat for Noah, modeled by the ever-patient Earle. You may remember that Noah dyed all this yarn (and much more) with mushrooms he had collected in the wild. I gave the hat to Noah today, and he loved it! I am so glad this is finished.

And here's something that's progressing much more rapidly. I bought this yarn at Emily's Midnight Madness sale on December 16th of this year. It's a gorgeous 50/50 silk/wool worsted weight, Charmant from Berger du Nord. I cast on with it on Christmas Eve, December 24th, and today, December 31st, I've just completed the back of this shell. It's the tank from Joan Forgione's Thorn and Thistle Twinset in the Summer 2006 Interweave Knits. It helps that it's 20 stitches in 4 inches; it helped even more that I spent Wednesday through Friday of this week visiting my parents, so I got lots of knitting done. In fact, a surprising amount of knitting, considered it took me nine - nine! frigging! hours! - hours to drive there on Wednesday and seven hours back on Friday, plus, of course, the time spent visiting three yarn shops in Pennsylvania and New Jersey. So maybe I've knitted up three or four hundred yards of yarn this week, while acquiring, oh, maybe several thousand yards of new yarn. Something is wrong with this scenario. Evidently I have to stop sleeping and start knitting all, and I mean ALL, the time.

Not likely.

Making Out Like a Bandit

Christmas was very good to the Linnet this year. No, that's not quite correct - Earle was very good to the Linnet this year. Look at all this!

A Golding drop spindle, with a cherry butterfly whorl.

A Bosworth drop spindle, lighter weight than the Golding. The whorl is canarywood.

Camel and yak roving, both incredibly soft. Earle has spent a little time in the Mideast and he says camels really are that soft.

Two gorgeous colorways of roving from Spunky Eclectic - Sherbert (top) and Walking on the Sun.

Plus the latest Knitscene magazine and a 'kit' for making an itsy-bitsy knitted wreath ornament. Earle is definitely a pearl.

In other news, I'm taking a quick trip to visit my parents outside Philly over the next three days. I intend to stop in a yarn and spinning store in New Jersey on the way down, maybe Woolbearers, and my mom is game for making a trek to New Hope to Twist Knitting & Spinning. Here's hoping they're open this week! [I think I'll email and find out.]

A Tale for Christmas Eve

Once upon a time, long, long ago, in a land far away in the mists, the Linnet learned to knit.

Then I forgot.

But I must have learned as child, because when I went to learn to knit as an adult, 15 years ago or so, I already knew the motions. Like riding a bike, and all that.

Now as an adult I took to knitting like a swallow to the air and promptly got addicted, to the point that for Christmas that year, when Mom asked what I wanted, I asked for a set of those interchangeable needles - you know, like these.

Well, lo, on Christmas morn, I did not find that set under my tree, nor any like it. Instead, I found this. A somewhat battered Christmas tin and a rolled-up bit of fabric with ribbons.

Inside, I found these, plus the ones that live in my knitting bag now.

And these.

And these, plus lots and lots more circs I couldn't arrange nicely. These are only the very large and the very small.

And this card. Which reads:

Dear Lynn,
Your present this year is not new - not old enough to be an antique - but not new. However you mustn't think of it as second-hand, but rather as an effort by the village elders to pass on the ancient tribal "arts and misteries".

One case was given to Dot Haviland [my mom's good friend] by her mother about 50 years ago. Since neither of her girls have expressed any interest, she has passed it on to you. Out of respect for its incredible purchase price ($28), Dot has never tied the ribbons [unlike me, of a badly behaved generation, who tied the ribbons immediately], but kept it closed with rubber bands. You will have to make your own personal and private decision - to-tie-or-not-to-tie.

The other "case" came with Christmas cookies from Grandma many years ago and has been my personal receptacle since then.

The contents of both cases are a collection from various "elders" of my acquaintance, my collection, and even a few new ones. Although it may seem an all inclusive collection, I'm afraid you will find that you never have the one you need. [True, so true.] At least, that has been my experience - but, perhaps a certain cynicism or fatalism comes with graying hair.

Enjoy!!
Mom & Dad

P.S. The check is for gorgeous wool or something for the boat!

Merry Christmas, everyone, and I hope you enjoy your presents as much as I've enjoyed this one!

I Won't Keep You in Suspense Any Longer

Why, yes, come to think of it, I did buy yarn Saturday night at Emily's Midnight Madness sale. I thought I could distract you over the past two days with pretty pictures of scarves and ornaments and such, but some of you want to know about the sale. So, OK, here goes:

I did buy yarn. I bought enough cabled blue Heirloom 12-Ply to make Norah Gaughan's Nantucket Jacket from the recent winter Interweave Knits. I bought enough off-white 110% Perendale wool from Chuckanut Bay to make myself an Irish fisherman's sweater (I haven't decided on exactly which pattern yet, maybe something classic like this). Those two I had planned on buying; apparently I'm in a cable sort of mood right now.

I resisted the pinky mohairy stuff; it was too pinky, too deep toothpasty, if you catch my drift. I had thought about knitting myself a little wisp of a scarf out of it, but the color was too much for me.

But that pale mint green - now that yarn I wasn't planning on buying, but I couldn't resist. It's Berger du Nord's Charmant, 50% silk, 50% wool, really, really, lovely (unlike these photos, which are lousy; sorry). I bought the 8 balls remaining in stock, which gives me a little over a thousand yards. At 20 sts/4 inches, I think I might be able to squeeze a 3/4-sleeve, V-necked, fitted sweater out of this for me, particularly if I get around to losing the 30 pounds or so that I ought to. Or maybe something without sleeves. We'll see.

As Emily and her helpers ran up my purchases at 11:06 PM last Saturday night, I was, of course, feeling guilty about buying yet more yarn. So I made Emily a rash vow: She was not to allow me to buy any yarn at next year's Midnight Madness sale, unless I was wearing a sweater I knit from this year's sale. A finished sweater, mind you, none of this just-barely-cast-on stuff. Emily agreed to hold me to it.

Gulp. I better cast on now, don't you think?

It's a Christmas Miracle!

Miracles really do happen! I've finished all my Christmas knitting one week early! Let us admire each and every one, shall we? Earle was kind enough to model the scarves, although he was rolling his eyes throughout and he told me to tell you that he had no pants on (that part wasn't true). And remember, I spun the yarn for all of these (yes, I'm full of myself tonight; just deal, OK?).

So, in order of completion, to the best of my memory .... here's Mom's scarf, knit in the classic feather and fan pattern. The yarn was spun from a Grafton Fibers Corriedale Cross batt, plied with commercial Zephyr.

My brother Dave's scarf, standard mistake rib. This was spun from Ashland Bay navy merino/silk.

A Madge-lace scarf, for my friend Pat. A Grafton Fibers batt for one ply; the other was from the Sheep Shed.

Dad's scarf, basketweave pattern, in Ashland Bay alpaca/silk.

Sue's scarf, in a pattern from One Skein, spun from Louet Gaywool merino/silk.

Earle's hat, not modeled by Earle, obviously - it's a surprise! - spun from Bartlett pencil roving; my first successful handspun yarn. I like the way the light from the lamp shows the structure of the hat. In reality, this hat is a light sheepy gray.

And here's the pile of scarves on the back of a chair. I really enjoyed spinning and knitting every one of these immensely; it was a pleasure to watch the yarn emerge and the pattern develop. I hope the recipients enjoy them as much as I did.

Furthermore, I finished all this knitting despite spending five - that's FIVE, people! - hours Sunday afternoon putting up the Christmas tree with Earle. It's amazing how long it takes to put up a tree. The decorating doesn't take so long; it's all the associated upheaval that takes so long. In our case, that upheaval included:

• cleaning a spot in the back room to put the wing chair from the living room;
• putting away the debris in the path the wing chair will take from the living room to the back room (five doorways; the entire length of the house);
• vacuuming the spot in the living room where the tree goes;
• trimming away the dead leaves from the plants in the window behind where the tree goes;
• watering said plants, before the tree blocks easy access for a week or two;
• wrestling the boxes of ornaments down from the attic;
• trimming the tree trunk outside;
• putting the stand on the tree outside, and discovering the tree four inches above the cut is too wide to go all the way down into the stand (this becomes important in the story later, hint, hint);
• wrestling the tree inside and attempting to stand it upright;
• screwing the four bolts into the tree trunk;
• discovering that the tree will not stand upright in the stand, unless the bottom of the trunk is securely seated into the bottom of the stand, which we have already established it is not (see above);
• filling the stand with water anyway, because the tree is sort of standing upright;
• finding a plate to put under the stand, to catch the water that sfrom the stand, while attempting to keep the tree upright;
• wiring the tree to the nearby window, which involves Earle rooting around in the cellar for 15 minutes looking for wire, while I hold the tree upright;
• Lynn going directly to the spool of narrow-gauge wire lying right there in plain sight on a shelf in the cellar, after Earle can only come up with what looks distinctly like TV antenna wire, ahem;
• winding the lights around the tree, and then around the perimeter of the nearby bay window, after the tree takes only 1.25 strings of lights;
• winding the garlands;
• hanging the ornaments...
• PAUSE IN THE ACTION, while Lynn goes to the nearest store for a new tree stand and Earle hovers near the tree, which quite clearly is determined to fall over despite our best efforts;
• Lynn returns with new stand, Earle lifts the half-decorated tree, still attached to the window by the light string, Lynn slides under the new stand, Earle lowers the tree, Lynn tightens eight bolts; and
• ACTION RESUMES: hanging the ornaments, till they are all hung, and the white dove is perched on the top;
• tinsel is forgone this year (enough is enough);
• watering the tree, to overflowing of course; and
• turning out the lights in the room, so as to admire the gorgeous tree, followed by the inevitable
• Vacuuming up of the damn needles.

No wonder it took so long! Here are a couple close-ups of ornaments, just because....

Why do I do This?

It is 7 PM on a Saturday evening. I've spent the last twelve hours participating in the 38th annual Athol Christmas Bird Count. Earle and I saw 22 species in our section of the whole 15-mile-diameter count circle here, the best birds being the four Wood Ducks Earle spooked up out of Tully Brook early this morning. The best sighting for me was not of birds, but of four otters cavorting with each other along the edge of the ice on Tully Pond. All together, 66 bird species were spotted today on this Christmas Count, which is probably a new record high for number of species on this count.

But my day is not done. Today - actually, tonight - is the annual Midnight Madness Sale here in the small town of Athol, Massachusetts. As I write, Emily at Emily's Needlework is selling all her yarn at 10% off. I believe at 9:01 PM, that discount goes to 20% off. Step up to the cash register at 10:01 PM tonight, and your discount is 30% off. That's 30% off Noro Kureyon and Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock and Manos, glorious soft Manos, and even that pinky, halo'ed yarn with the sheen and the name I can't remember, but, oh, yes, I do remember that yarn all right and in three hours, they will all be 30% off.

And at 11:01 PM, the discount is 40% off. For real, people, 40% off all yarn - that's almost half price. I should buy bags and bags of the stuff. But there's an extra cost involved [there's always an extra cost, isn't there?].

I have to stay awake for another four hours. What's that? I should go take a nap? Well, yes, maybe I should, maybe I could, maybe I can't stop myself, in fact, but then... The Others Would Get All the Good Yarn. And you know who you are out there, so don't deny it. Right now I bet there are Serious Knitters in Emily's, circling the shelves, counting up balls of yarn and calculating total yardage in each dyelot and comparing that with the lists of Yarns Desired Sorted by Gauge clutched in their hands and then squirreling away the yarn they intend to buy, safely away in those capacious bags Emily so graciously starts distributing at, oh, 7:30 or 8, you know. By 10:30 PM, just over three hours from now, All the Good Yarn will be gone, tucked away in those roomy bags, three or four sweaters' worth per knitter, ready to be checked out starting at 11:01 PM. I know this because I, too, am a Serious Knitter and I, too, have participated in this heart-warming holiday event here in Athol in years past.

And if I can just manage to stay awake for another 4 hours, I will join in again this year. I think I've been doing Christmas Bird Counts every year for a quarter-century or more; I ought to aim for the quarter-century mark at Emily's Midnight Madness too, don't you think?

You in the back there - did you have a question? What do you mean, what happened to the Midnight Madness yarn from last year? I still have it, of course, it's Meaningful Yarn for me, you know, I think it might still be in the capacious Emily's Needlework bags, in fact. Whatever did you expect me to do with it?

Yes, another question? My vow to reduce my stash? Did I hear you correctly, sir? Oops, I'm sorry, I'm late, I really have to go now; it's Midnight Madness here in town tonight, I have to go participate in this important community-building, village-enhancing, small-fiber-farm-continuing event. Now. I have to go now, or They will get All the Good Yarn.

I Do Good Work

I am feeling good. The Massachusetts Comprehensive Wildlife Conservation Strategy, a great deal of the 750+ pages of which I wrote over the course of the past two years, has just been approved by the United States Fish & Wildlife Service. We did good. Here, for your reading pleasure, is part of that Strategy, a part that I wrote, a part that I feel very strongly about. Tomorrow, we shall knit again tomorrow; today we live in the real world.

"A. Proactive Habitat Protection
For almost every species and habitat in greatest need of conservation in Massachusetts, this Strategy recommends that appropriate areas be protected from development and managed for the long-term conservation of these species and habitats. However, about one-sixth of Massachusetts – about one million acres – is already protected by a conservation entity (state, Federal, municipal, or private non-profit). Further, it is clear that the opportunities to protect suitable habitat and the funding with which to protect land are both dwindling rapidly in this state. Thus, to protect our species in greatest need of conservation, the challenge is that of making the difficult and wrenching decisions about which lands have the highest priority for acquisition in the very near future.

The Natural Heritage & Endangered Species Program of the MDFW [Massachusetts Division of Fisheries & Wildlife] recently completed the BioMap and Living Waters projects. The BioMap is a statewide map of the areas, called Core Habitats, which if protected will conserve viable populations of rare species and exemplary natural communities for the future. The Living Waters project also produced a statewide map, but the Core Habitats shown on this map are the actual waterbodies supporting rare aquatic species and aquatic natural communities. Areas buffering and draining these aquatic Core Habitats, called Critical Supporting Watersheds, are areas which are appropriate for protection, if undeveloped, or for implementation of Best Management Practices to improve run-off water quality, if already developed.

Together, the BioMap and Living Waters Core Habitats cover about one-quarter of Massachusetts. About 40% of these Core Habitats are already protected, but 60%, or some 710,000 acres, are not protected from development or other destructive actions. It will be almost impossible for all the conservation groups in Massachusetts, not just MDFW, to protect all of this land, plus those areas of Critical Supporting Watershed that are recommended for protection. In addition, the data used by the BioMap and Living Waters projects are now up to five years old and, in some cases, already out of date. Some areas of BioMap Core Habitat have already been developed and have thus been lost as conservation possibilities. Some species thought to be rare at the time of these projects have proved to be more common than thought and thus do not need the level of conservation attention directed at the truly rare species. As time goes on, our knowledge of the species in greatest need of conservation will change, as will the inventory of land available for protection. There should be an on-going process to analyze and prioritize land in the Commonwealth for conservation purposes. The steps below build on the BioMap and Living Waters project and outline this on-going process.

To make and implement this prioritization for land protection, the following elements are necessary:

1. Knowledge of what land is protected in the Commonwealth, by whom, and for what purpose. Massachusetts has a very good state GIS system, MassGIS, which constantly updates their data on protected open space, including ownership and purposes. However, due to understaffing, the MassGIS program is often six months to a year behind in adding new state-owned conservation lands to their database. It has no systematic way to update newly protected lands acquired by municipalities or private non-profits. Both of these issues should be addressed. Since development is one of the greatest threats to wildlife in Massachusetts, more up to date landuse maps are needed. Without an accurate and relatively up-to-date database of what is already protected, we cannot plan for future acquisitions effectively and efficiently.

2. Knowledge of the biological resources of the state, particularly of the species and habitats in greatest need of conservation. Our knowledge of the statewide distribution of these species and habitats is uneven. For some species (for example, Federally listed species and fish species in general), there have been recent or on-going statewide surveys of all suitable habitat and, thus, our knowledge of their distribution and abundance in the state is relatively complete. MDFW has a comprehensive database of fish distribution and abundance for the fish species listed as in Greatest Need of Conservation. On the other hand, some state-listed species (for example, some aquatic macroinvertebrates) are just now receiving the kind of survey effort that will clarify their distribution and abundance; thus, we do not yet have sufficient knowledge of even all of the state-listed species. For non-listed species in greatest need of conservation, whether globally rare, game animals, or associated with early successional habitats, our state of knowledge is particularly insufficient. Likewise, for some habitats of concern – coastal plain ponds, bogs – we have recent field surveys, targeted at the best examples as identified by aerial photo-interpretation. For other habitats – large, unfragmented natural landscape mosaics – we are just beginning to realize the need for conservation and, frankly, have a difficult time identifying these habitats on the ground. Marine and estuarine habitats have been under-surveyed in general; however, the Massachusetts Office of Coastal Zone Management has recently begun several initiatives aimed at mapping these habitats. Elsewhere in this Strategy, the details of these survey and inventory needs are covered; here it needs only be noted that this knowledge is absolutely essential for conservation of our biodiversity.

3. Knowledge of which species and habitats are already protected. As a consequence of completing the two elements above, it will be possible to clarify the level of protection afforded each of the species and habitats in greatest need of protection. Again, this analysis should be completed, not just for state-owned lands, but for all property owned and/or managed for conservation purposes across the Commonwealth. This element involves inventory and assessment of the biological resources supported in whole or in part by each parcel of protected land, to answer such questions as: What percentage of the occurrences of a SGNC [Species in Greatest Need of Conservation] species or habitat are on protected land? Which SGNC species or habitats are least well protected, currently?

4. Prioritization of protection efforts. This element involves making what can only be described as judgment calls. For example, all things being equal, what species should be targeted for immediate protection? It is easy to see that different conservationists might answer differently: protect all the occurrences of the very rare species first; or protect first the most viable populations of those species judged most likely to persist if properly conserved; protect first order streams, or protect wildlife corridors first; or protect large, contiguous landscapes of natural habitats first; or protect first what our human constituency at large wants protected – the glamorous and showy rare species, the beautiful landscapes, and their favorite hunting and fishing spots.

In reality, future conservation efforts will involve numerous organizations and individuals; the MDFW is only one of the partners in the cause. Each organization and each scientist or conservationist will have their own priorities for protection, dictated by organization policies, funding sources, and personal preferences. However, with the BioMap and Living Waters projects, many conservation entities in Massachusetts have proven themselves eager to base their protection efforts on biological data, interpreted by knowledgeable scientists, and disseminated to usable formats.

It is a major goal of this Strategy to develop a consistent and objective prioritization system for habitat protection, aimed at the identified species and habitats in greatest need of conservation, with the input of as broad a spectrum of knowledgeable biologists as is feasible.

5. Identification of land for protection, based on stated priorities. Once priorities for land protection are established, these priorities should be applied to the existing knowledge of the biological resources of the state, to identify precise areas for immediate protection efforts. A map of these areas will be developed, with information attached to each recommended area as to the particular conservation targets therein. It can be expected that, as a result of this step in the process, along with the preceding steps, gaps in our knowledge will be identified, which can then be filled in the next cycle of this whole process.

6. Dissemination of conservation priorities to conservation partners. Providing GIS or paper maps and supporting information to state, Federal, municipal, and private conservation groups is the first step in implementing proactive habitat protection. Beyond that, it is likely that a detailed examination of the map of areas to be protected will reveal which organizations are most suited to protect each area, because of proximity to land already protected, or the particular priorities of the organization, or some other such factor. A list of unprotected areas suitable for protection by each active conservation group should be compiled and distributed, wherever possible in whatever venue is appropriate. Meetings between MDFW staff and staff from these other groups are likely to be particularly fruitful. An agency database of contact/mailing information of all identified conservation partners needs to be developed to aid in mass postal and electronic communications. Currently, lists exist in various forms but not in any centrally organized fashion that is easily accessible.

7. Funding. Admirably, when informed of their land’s conservation value, many landowners choose to donate their property to a conservation group. Many conservationists choose to donate their time and skills to a land trust, for example, to help in the cause of land protection. Not surprisingly, land donations are not financially feasible for many landowners, and most land protection efforts cannot be accomplished by a purely volunteer work force. Funding for land protection in Massachusetts has decreased dramatically in recent years, especially at the state level. The tasks of everyone involved in this Strategy will be to inform others of the importance and immediate need for increased funding from all sources for land acquisition, to use available funding as efficiently as possible to accomplish protection priorities, and to identify and cooperate on funding sources beyond the usual. Re-activating the Massachusetts Teaming With Wildlife Coalition, a group formed for the purpose of providing information about federal legislation that would provide funding for unmet wildlife needs, could be one strategy for advocacy of wildlife funding initiatives on both the state and federal levels.

8. Updates of these protection priorities. In five to ten years time, the information on which this Conservation Strategy is based will be out of date. The very successful BioMap project was based on data through 2000; it is clear just five years later that, while most of the areas recommended for protection are still worthwhile, new data necessitate an update. Further, both BioMap and Living Waters were aimed at conserving state-listed rare species, in general, and many of the species included in this Strategy are not addressed specifically in either BioMap or Living Waters. Throughout the implementation of the seven steps above, gaps in data should be identified and addressed, progress towards protection priorities should be compiled, and conservation partners should be cultivated. This will inform the next round of setting priorities for proactive habitat protection."

Decisiveness

Point #1: I've made up my mind. This version of the mushroom hat has got to go. The blue and green are too close in tone, and neither of them has anything to do with the colors in the ribbing. I'll try again.

Point #2: The scarf I was knitting Sue for Christmas? Bye-bye, all two inches of it. I finished the scarf for my dad out of the same black handspun alpaca/silk, and I have absolutely no desire to knit another five feet or so out of it. My dad's scarf is great, I love it, I'll love it, I know Sue loves that yarn, but if I have to spend another ten days knitting that particular blackness, I'll scream.

So I went into my handspun stash and came up with this: merino/silk, sort of gray and turquoise (not nearly as navy as this photo shows). Thank God for the turquoise! And I'm tired of fiddly knitting - this is the last of six scarves and hats I've spun and knit for Christmas, you know - so we're going with a simple, yet effective 4x4 cable to one side, k2p2 ribbing to the other. Pattern from Leigh Radford's One Skein. I like how this is working out. Substantial, yet soft. Straightforward, yet with sensuous curves. And only about 30 or 35 repeats of an 8-row pattern to go.

Point #3: I like Dale's Sisik yarn. It's good wool, aside from the bits of colorful fluff that aren't that well attached. It feels good to knit this. So good, I've already reached the end of the bottom ribbing. Alas, this yarn has been discontinued. If you find it, buy some.

You're Out There, Aren't You?

There are people reading my blog. Gak! I feel exposed! I feel naked! I feel silly and stupid and found wanting and all that.

Even though [deep adult breath here] I know perfectly well I'm OK. I'm OK. I am a Worthwhile and Lovely Being. [more deep breathing]

How do I know all this? It's all Sue's fault, once again. Her brother Chris and his wife Elaine came down from Portland, Maine, to see Sue over the weekend and Sue thought they'd be thrilled to meet me, since they are both knitters (yes, Chris is a male-type person and he knits, socks even!, and looks quite, ahem, good while doing so. So, you see, children, that myth that real men don't knit is only a myth; find some other legend to believe in) and had heard so much about me (this is the point at which I started feeling queasy).

Chris and Elaine are charming people, sophisticated, funny, worldly. Go read Elaine's blog, if you want to see for yourself. She's a very good knitter, by the way, and quite addicted. And makes a mean cosmopolitan, too. I think she had six, maybe seven, scarves and socks and whatnot in the knitting bag she brought. We all went to Webs, of course (Chris even knew the back way from Sue's house), and I resisted everything except the new Spin Off magazine and the winter Vogue Knitting, which actually had some knittable and wearable garments, surprise, surprise, clearly a [insert winter holiday of choice] miracle.

Get to the point, Linnet.

[deep breath]

They had read my blog. They thought it was funny. OK, I can deal with that. I know Sue; they know Sue - they're relatives even! - I can cope with relatives of friends reading my blog. But then, Elaine said lots of people read my blog.

That's just downright scary.

You out there, you know who I am. At least within my limited ability to convey myself on the digital page. I'm a formerly shy person, you know; having people know who I am is viscerally frightening, despite my best efforts to out-grow that aspect of me/myself/I.

And yet. And yet.

I want to be noticed. I may even need to be noticed. Being the eldest of five kids, the first three born in the first four years of my parents' marriage, left me a little neglected, I think. Just a little. I'm not talking abuse or not being fed and clothed and loved, nothing like that. Just ... a little not noticed.

So having people read this blog is OK for me, maybe good for me. You're all knitters, you're used to the imperfections of human creations, you enjoy hanging out with other knitters.

And given a few events close to home that aren't really mine to talk about, I'm feeling my mortality, feeling the need for people nearby, for laughter together over our knitting, for the joy in our shared obsessions. So thank you for reading. For noticing. For laughing with me now and then.

[cue Barbra singing People who need people...]

Mindlessness

I need some mindlessness tonight. More to the point, I am mindlessness tonight. My tummy aches; thus I have no brain. Tonight I cannot even cope with the Row 1: k11, p2, k2, p2, k11 of basketweave, even when I'm close to finishing this scarf for my dad for Christmas.

Tonight I cannot cope with deciding whether the little blue mushrooms show up well enough against the green background on Noah's hat, much less whether all of that clashes too much with the colors of the ribbing.

Tonight I need to knit something like this.

Isn't that a lovely basic sweater? (Appallingly wide, but never mind, never mind, I couldn't possibly be shaped like that in real life.) I've had this sweater for maybe 20 years. No, I didn't knit it; it's a store-bought sweater, out of 85% acrylic/15% wool yarn. It does not pill, it goes through the washing machine with no problems, and nowadays everyone asks me if I knit it. Which I didn't.

But tonight I think I can cope with your basic k2p2 ribbing on a basic medium-sized circular needle, with nice medium-sized yarn from my stash. Like this.

I think Fridays nights should be for comfort knitting, don't you?

Through Thick and Thin

This past Sunday I took a spinning class from Jeannine Bakriges at Webs. She taught ten of us how to make thick, thin, and medium yarn, along with teaching us lots of other spinning-related tidbits, and I loved it! The samples above are two- and three-ply yarns I spun last night, just practicing what I learned. I still need to be more consistent - that photo is of the best sections of my various attempts - but that'll come, that'll come. Jenny did tell me that, for a beginner, I was pretty consistent, so that made my day!

Today, however, I'm home with a tummy ache and the mindlessness that comes with not falling asleep till 3 AM. I know there was much more I wanted to say about Jenny's class (I got to meet Etherknitter!), but it's disappeared into my general grogginess.

I do want to say this, though: Every so often, I run into someone like Jenny - the Yarn Harlot and Amy Singer also come to mind - who just exude such competence and joy and creativity that I am left panting after them like a teeny bopper after the latest rock star. I want to be Jenny's groupie.

There, I've said it. Well, almost said it. What I really want is to take that soul-baring plunge into being my own fount of competence and joy and creativity. To knit and spin well enough to express who I am through those media. I have some ideas in my head, but I hold myself back. Like any learning process, though, I need to go through those early stumbles and those first 10,000 mistakes and the imitative creations, through to me. Whoever I am.

But for today, I think I'll just go nap.

Guilt

Anybody recognize this yarn?

I can't imagine why you should; the last time you saw this was back in the spring, I think. Which brings us to today's subject: Guilt and the Knitting Thereof.

Back in March or April, I ran into Noah, an acquaintance of mine, on a field trip to a vernal pool. Noah knows everything about mushrooms, at least those species found hereabouts. So, while we all were tramping about admiring wood frogs and looking at salamander sperm packets (I kid you not), he pointed out various fungi. He also happened to mention that last year he dyed some yarn with different mushrooms and got all sorts of colors. I pounced, of course. "Send me a photo! Bring some yarn to the next time we meet!" that sort of thing.

So he sent me photos. And I oohed and ahhed and said, gee, if I knit you a hat, would you give me some of the yarn? He graciously said yes. Now, our story so far covers several months; there are, after all, other important things in life, particularly in spring, than yarn and the knitting thereof, not that you and I would have any knowledge of such things.

So, maybe in early summer I got the yarn. And there it sat.

And sat.

And sat.

And every so often, I would pull it out and wind a skein into a ball and fuss over it a bit. But no casting-on ensued. Meanwhile, guilt did ensue. It is now at least six months later, you know. Guilt is an awful thing; it eats away at my happiness, it colors my pleasure in knitting and spinning, it takes joy out of my life.

I don't want guilt to rule my life, especially my knitting, so I have cast on for Noah's hat and I hereby solemnly swear that it shall be cast off by January 1st, and that the hat and all the yarn shall be given back to Noah by then. I want to go into the new year with a clean conscience.

And in the future, I shall try to think before I commit to a knitting project, even if it's something for me. I want to begin to make my own designs and, if I knit the lovely and compelling designs of others, I won't have time to make my own. The fact that life is short has been weighing on me recently - I may only have thirty or so years left! - and guilt is an unnecessary weight to drag around.

Of course, then there's Liam's baby blanket, lying there half-finished, occasionally reproaching me. Liam just turned five, I believe.

Nonetheless, onward!