Togue Stripes

Togue Stripes

Verdict on this tank sweater: BIG LOVE. So quick (actual combined knitting time), so simple, so useful here in the land of 90-something-degree days. Dress it up, dress it down. And it’s forever entwined in my memory with Squam — this yarn and the green needles and porch floor and weathered decking were just the most soothing and pleasing visual combination. I love love loved it.

Togue Stripes

As you know, I wanted a cross between Pam Allen’s two recent tank sweater patterns. I wanted the weight and gauge of Togue Pond with the look of Saco Stripes — specifically the A-line shape, plain lower edge, stripes (obviously) and wider “straps.” So here’s what I did:

— Knitted it in the Kestrel yarn (in Pebble and Senza) using the Togue Pond pattern (second size).

— Omitted the waist ribbing and short-row shaping — I simply did one purl round after the cast-on and then worked straight in stockinette.

— Cast on with US10 needles and worked the first couple of inches, then switched to US9’s, then to US8’s after the top stripe. When I do it again, I’ll just start on US9’s; it’s already getting to be a little more flouncy at the waist than I’d like.

— Anticipating that it would grow with blocking and over time, I knitted it shorter than I wanted it. Unfortunately, I didn’t write it down, but I think it was 13 or 13.5 inches before dividing for front and back. After blocking and a couple of wears, it’s now 15 inches (not including the ribbing).

— I worked the first stripe 3 inches (I think) from the cast-on edge. The Senza stripes are 2 rows each, with 6 rows of Pebble in between.

— I staggered my waist decreases a little differently (just keeping them in the grey), and did fewer of them. When it came time to divide for front and back and work the armhole shaping, I had eight more stitches than the pattern called for, which gave me two extra stitches in each “strap.”

— I did the 3-needle bind-off for the shoulders with wrong sides together, so the seam is exposed. I also have a bad habit of forgetting to bind-off when doing a 3-needle bind-off — I just do all the k2tog’s and wind up with a row of live stitches. So then I go back and pass the stitches over each other to bind them off. Which actually makes a nice substantial looking exposed seam.

— I had seen comments on Ravelry that people were picking up fewer stitches for the neck/arms than the pattern called for. I picked up 96 for the neck and the same number as the pattern for the armholes.

— To counteract the growth tendency, I deliberately did my bind-offs a little on the tight side.

— I did not do jogless stripes, and I did not carry the Senza yarn up the sides either, because I knew it would show through, given the loose-ish gauge and high contrast. So when weaving in each of those Senza ends, I did one duplicate stitch from the right side of the fabric to even out the jog, and I’m happy with how it turned out.

Our first evening in Nashville, we were over at our friend Jo’s for BLTs. I wove in the last of the ends on her deck and she threw it in her washing machine while we ate, then laid it out to air dry. I’m already in love with the fabric and know it will just get softer over time, so definitely put me down as a linen convert.

Togue Stripes

Cross-country knitting

Cross-country knitting

True confession: I had a meltdown on Monday morning. All I’m gonna say is our move did not go as planned — thanks, U-Haul! — and the long packing/loading/cleaning nightmare that should have ended on Sunday evening was nowhere near over. I woke up Monday in the guest room at my cousins’ house totally overcome with exhaustion and anxiety about the day ahead and gave my husband the impression that he might need to check me into a loony bin somewhere. Thankfully, I’m an ox (moments of weakness aside) and we have amazing friends and neighbors, and by Monday evening we were finally — finally! — out of our loft and into our car, pointed east. I told you a couple weeks ago that I had been managing to sneak in a few rows of knitting here and there to save my sanity, but it turns out that had ended shortly before that post. By the time we got into the car, I hadn’t knitted a stitch in thirteen days, and you’ll all understand when I say that was a contributing factor.

ANYWAY, among the many beautiful things about being in the car is that I can finally knit again. Hallelujah. But here’s the thing: I barely have! Between Tahoe and Salt Lake City on Tuesday I finished the upper part of the front of this tank. And between SLC and Denver on Wednesday, all I did was pick up and knit the neck. The landscape is so relentlessly stunning I didn’t want to take my eyes off it for even a second, but the combination of staring out the window (not packing!) and knitting a little bit here and there has been wildly therapeutic. And the happiest thing I have to report is that, despite previous misgivings, it fits perfectly. It should be done by Kansas City.

Have a fun-filled 4th of July weekend, y’all!

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On this sweater and my sanity

On this sweater and my sanity

In between work and the neverending packing, I am managing to knit a few rows here and there. My Togue PondSaco Stripes hybrid is coming along nicely, I think — to my great relief. It’s gone from testing my sanity to keeping me sane.

There was an evening in the big cabin at Squam, surrounded by professional knitters, where collective concern was expressed for the size of the thing. I had knitted five or six inches, and it did seem enormous. I kept counting my stitches and doing the math, and it seemed like it should be fine, except it didn’t look fine. So I put it away and moped, and nice people gave me yarn to try to keep me occupied. Squam was a major swatch-fest for me: Gudrun Johnston’s excellent short-rows class was a day-long series of tiny swatches, followed by Kate and Courtney’s highly recommended vest class which, of course, began with a swatch. So for my Friday free time between the two, the last thing I wanted to do was stop and swatch this sweater I was already knitting. (Not that there’s anything wrong with swatching! It’s wonderful and important and an awesome learning tool and all of that. But I’d had no time to knit for weeks, and here I was on a knitting break and I wanted to be knitting. On a dock.) In short: I was distressed.

Friday evening, after a mosquito-plagued but head-clearing walk, I sat down with the sweater in the dining hall — by then empty of all but me and Anna — and measured and counted again. I had come to the conclusion that swatching would do me no good in this case anyway. This is aran-weight linen, which is a rather mysterious creature. The finished sweater is going to drape and grow and change in ways that a swatch would not likely predict with any accuracy, no matter how many clotheslines I hung it from. So I decided to just have faith and keep knitting. And by Saturday afternoon I was knitting it on that dock, feet in the water, just as happy as a knitter could be.

I won’t know for certain until the shoulders are seamed together and I can put it on for real, but I think — I hope — it’s just right. So thank god I didn’t frog it in a panic and move on to something else.

If it works out, I promise to share my mods. In the meantime, I hope everyone has a fantastic weekend. To those of you who came to the sale last Saturday, it was marvelous to meet you and I apologize again for my appearance! I’d love to hear what you’re all working on —

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Knitting in paradise

Knitting in paradise
Knitting in paradise
Knitting in paradise
Knitting in paradise

On my flight home from New Hampshire, the nice woman seated next to me looked at what I was doing and said “That’s … knitting, right?” Shaking her head woefully, she declared, “It’s a lost art, I tell ya. I’m an art teacher.” I assured her briefly that knitting is alive and quite well, but it was a particularly funny moment for someone to say that to me, since I had just left the deep woods of Squam Lake, where I’d spent several days surrounded by knitters (and artists and writers and weavers …) at Squam Art Workshops.

I’d been seeing photos and hearing about Squam for the past few years, and longing to attend, and I can tell you the place is even more beautiful than the pictures. When Anna and I got our first glimpse of our cabin and our porch (that porch!) and our dock, we just shook our heads and laughed at how lovely.

Knitting in paradise
Knitting in paradise
Knitting in paradise

It being late Sunday night after the long travel day home, I’m too tired to describe any of it nearly as well as I hope these photos can — but there was the scenery and the yarn bombing and the wonderful people, some of whom were carrying Fringe Supply tote bags! The first couple of days were chilly, and we started off in classes held around blazing fireplaces in the living rooms of various large cabins and lodge buildings, which was just as charming as it sounds. But by Saturday the sun had arrived, and the place was a whole ’nother kind of beautiful. Many classes, mine included, moved outdoors. And Saturday afternoon was all free time — prime dock knitting time, the one thing I wanted most.

Knitting in paradise
Knitting in paradise
Knitting in paradise
Knitting in paradise

It all culminated in the Squam Art Fair on Saturday night, which I definitely don’t have the words for. I’m so grateful to Christine and to Anna for helping me in so many ways, to Austen and Kate for bringing me cold beer from the Ravelry party as I stood boiling under those lights, to the friends who came from neighboring states to say hello, and to everyone who introduced themselves and/or shopped the table. It’s all a blur, but it was amazing.

Knitting in paradise
squam_sam_lamb_kate_osborn

These last two photos are my two favorite outfits/sweaters of the week. Sam Lamb, on the left, is wearing a sweater she improvised and a Wiksten tank dress. Kate Gagnon Osborn, on the right, is wearing a sweater I’ll tell you more about soon, with a perfect denim jacket and the cutest Hasbeens ever — which you can’t see in this photo, but this one is a lot funnier than the one where you can see the shoes, so you’ll have to take my word for it.

In short (much too short; leaving so much and so many people out): it was a fantastic trip, full of good friends old and new, and a reminder of just how much knitting — thankfully not a lost art — has enriched my life.

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ON A TOTALLY DIFFERENT NOTE: There were some difficulties back at Fringe Supply Co. headquarters while I was away that held up the shipping of some orders. I apologize profusely for the delay!

New Favorites: Pam Allen’s linen tanks

New Favorites: Pam Allen's linen tanks

I’m convinced my indifference to all the sweaters on my needles is to do with their being stockinette, but perhaps it’s more the fact that long-sleeved wool sweaters have no actual current relevance? And thus I’m simply unmotivated? I wonder, because I am plagued with the desire to cast on yet another stockinette sweater — but this time a linen tank. Pam Allen has been on a roll lately, and if I had any linen in my stash, I might have already cast on one or the other of these, just to see whether my stockinette apathy would dissipate if the garment were of immediate use — or in fact, necessity. The only problem is: which one? On top is Togue Pond; on bottom is Saco Stripes. I might need to hybridize them …

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PREVIOUSLY in New Favorites: WATG cotton toppers