My inbox has been absolutely rammed today with messages saying “oh my GOD have you seen the post over on the Joy of Knitting Facebook page??!” For those of you who don’t click links, I’ll transcribe it below:
“With the recent women’s march on Washington, I ask that you if you want yarn for any project for the women’s movement that you please shop for yarn elsewhere. The vulgarity, vile and evilness of this movement is absolutely despicable. That kind of behavior is unacceptable and is not welcomed at The Joy of Knitting. I will never need that kind of business to remain open. Two wrongs will never ever make it right.
As the owner of this business and a Christian, I have a duty to my customers and my community to promote values of mutual respect, love, compassion, understanding, and integrity. The women’s movement is counterproductive to unity of family, friends, community, and nation.
I do pray for these women. May the God work out His love in their hearts and continue to heal and unite Americans.
Take a second, breathe through your nose, calm down. Now, Elizabeth is a human being and that means she has the right to her own opinion (regardless of how hypocritical it may be or how much it conflicts with mine/yours), therefore I will not be saying any nasty things about her. I understand that many of you may be tempted to send her a lengthy message, leave a bad review, or drown her in pussyhats, but I strongly urge you not to. Instead, I suggest simply that you do not spend your money at her shop as she has requested.
In my 18 years of knitting I have only ever had the good fortune to meet knitters who are lovely, friendly, jovial, wonderful people. We are a community, a family spread across the globe and bonded by our love of the craft. Let us continue to be a bunch of happy folk and keep in mind the old adage ‘if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all’.
When I opened my door this morning, I swore and went back inside to put more layers on. My entire city was engulfed in freezing fog rolling in off the Irish Sea. I’ve never seen anything like it, I’ve seen cold, but not fog that freezes on your skin.
Still, I am a knitter and we do not fear the cold for we are well equipped. Swathed in merino, I went and waited for my bus to go and sit in a freezing cold exam hall where they informed me that I was not allowed to wear my hat and mittens in case I cheated. It was an open book test, we had our notes in there with us. Honestly, sometimes I question whether exam invigilators are people or robots that sometimes malfunction.
Exam completed, I returned home and bumped into my postman who gifted me with my mystery yarn for January. Wanna see?
I love it. I was just thinking I wanted to make some Melisandre socks but didn’t have any yarn suited and this skein is absolutely perfect. Also included was this sweet stitch marker
One of the reasons I adore Dina’s monthly yarn box is that she puts a lot of thought into it. She doesn’t just ship out random skeins of yarn willy nilly, each box has a theme and a little letter from her explaining it. This month she writes:
“This month’s theme is Valentine’s Day. It’s all about Love and Hearts and our Special Person. Are you ready and prepared? This yarn is called Sometimes Love Hurts. The colorway is meant to show you that not one Love story is without that black spot.”
How lovely is that? Somehow the fact that the yarn almost has a story behind its colours endears it even further to me, maybe I’m just a big softie.
P.S. When I went to collect my brother from school the fog was gone and it was warm enough to not need a coat, living in this country is confusing.
Things are pretty boring over here blog-wise at the moment, spending all of my time with my nose buried in textbooks and lecture notes doesn’t lend itself well to getting much knitting done. I present you with my one finished mudkip sock
and this question: Why don’t more men knit? I’ve met men aplenty who have liked my knitting, some have asked to do a stitch or two on a sock, but when I’ve offered to teach them to knit the response is always a ‘thanks, but no.’ Why? When my younger brother was around six years old he asked me to teach him, and I did and he enjoyed it, but he quickly stopped when his ‘friends’ teased him for it, according to them knitting is for girls.
Where does this stigma that knitting is for sweet old women come from? Very few of the knitters I know personally are older than their 30s, I myself am only 24, and I’m not sure many of us would be typified as ‘sweet’.
I don’t know about the rest of you, but if I met a man who liked knitting, wanted to talk to me about fibre and go to yarn festivals with me, my knickers would hit the floor faster than he could knit a stitch. Power to the male knitters.
I had my first of 3 exams today (it went fine, thank you), and after I’d finished I went to the yarn shop to get my fix obtain buttons for the purple cardie and the cabled cardie. The buttons were procured no problem
But then I had a falling down in the yarn department.
That would be a West Yorkshire Spinners signature 4ply in all the colours of a Mudkip that I just couldn’t resist, which started the domino effect (think “well I’ve already ruined my diet with that one biscuit, may as well finish the packet”). Before I knew what was going on I was at the till paying for two other balls, one a rainbow that speaks to my teenage self, and one the colour of red wine which speaks to my twenty-something self. And as if buying 3 balls on impulse wasn’t bad enough, to get to the yarn I had to actually go downstairs from the button place, through some double doors and into the separate yarn place. On purpose. This of course means that I made it a whopping 16 days of knitting only from stash, I am a woman of absolutely no self-control. I’m trying to justify it to myself with the reasoning that January in England is a horrible, cold, grey month, and I needed some colour in my life before I went mad, but we all know I’m just an addict.
Assorted hats. Needs: Bobbles sewing on, blocking, weaving in
The lovely cables and moss stitch baby cardigan. Needs: buttons, blocking, weaving in.
Keams baby pullover. Needs: buttons, blocking, weaving in.
The purple baby cardie from Hell. Needs: hood and button bands knitting, seaming up, buttons, blocking, weaving in.
Fake cable cowl. Needs: blocking, weaving in.
It totally turns out that I am a bad finisher. Love knitting, love making lovely things, can never be bothered to do all the finicky bits before they’re actually wearable. I think it says a lot about me that despite the fact that I could just block some stuff and have several finished projects, I’m going to knit the hood of the purple cardie instead.
Some of us never learn.
Please do not startle the knitter.
I have been completely and utterly wiped out by a Killer Cold from Hell, the only response to which is to sit quietly watching Bob Ross on Twitch and knitting little hats to de-stash.
apparently I am obsessed with hats having bobbles, it is beyond me to leave one off
On the plus side, this is contributing greatly towards my knitting resolutions of finishing all the UFOs sat around my room and knitting only from stash (excluding the sock yarn club, that is a drug I cannot quit). On the con side, what I should be doing is revising for my January exams but as my brain feels like it’s about 75% fuzz, this is an impossibility.
Tomorrow, providing I have not succumbed to my illness, updates on the Big Bag of Things I’ve Ignored and a public confession to the severity of my ‘finishing’ laziness. Can’t wait.
December is a whirlwind of a month over here at casa Fibre Muse. A good chunk of friends and family chose this time of year to be born, so the whole month is just me bouncing from house to house with well wishes while furiously knitting to the Christmas deadline and laughing nervously when someone points out there are ‘only x days to Christmas!’. Well, I did finish the knitting (3 stockings, a Celestarium and a hat) but in true me fashion neglected to take pictures before they went off to live with their recipients, so you’ll just have to take my word on it.
I do have some pictures though! I finished all the parts of the purple baby cardie
All it needs now is blocking and seaming up. But that’s the thing. I hate seaming up. Setting in sleeves makes me feel so nauseous I would rather just fling the purple cardie into a bag in a wardrobe and merrily go about my business, responding with a wide-eyed ‘what cardigan?’ when asked about its whereabouts.
I thought on this a little while, and decided that if I just knit things in one piece there would be no reason for seaming. So I hauled off and knit…another baby cardigan
the back panel of which completely charms me. I’m so proud of this little raglan, it represents two different things I learned. Number one is raglans can be knit with decreases instead of seams, and number two is how to cable without a cable needle. All this needs is a good blocking, buttons and the ends weaving in, which is not seaming and therefore acceptable.
I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas, and 2017 grants all of your wishes!
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m quite a positive person. I try my absolute best to see the sunny side of everything, but some days, some days are sent to test me.
I present to you Reasons Why Yesterday Was An Absolute Bust:
I woke up at 3am and despite my best efforts could not get back to sleep. Being a woman who values her sleep only getting 4 hours of it was heartbreaking.
I finished and blocked the two stockings from my WIP pile, but forgot to take pictures before I mailed them off to their recipients so I have no proof, and thus no blog post.
I was late to university because of the HUGE thronging crowds doing their Christmas shopping.
When I got home the dog was so happy to see me that he peed all over the kitchen floor.
I mopped it up and called him back to me, he peed again.
I’d forgotten that said dog needed food for the weekend (mother of the year right here), so he and I got on the bus up to the dog food place. This was a pleasant part of the day, he was well behaved for the whole hour of our journey.
When we got off the bus, the puppy did a poop on the pavement. As I was picking it up a woman came out of her house and started screeching at me ‘how would you like it if he did it outside your house??’ Pointing out that he was my dog and has done it INSIDE my house made matters worse. I told her I couldn’t control where he poops, when you gotta go you gotta go, but at least I was picking it up and not just leaving it to be stood in. She flipped me off and went back inside.
Dog and I bought his food, were advised by the people in the shop that ‘that woman is crazy’ and went back to our bus stop. This is where I discovered that I had lost my bus pass. We retraced our steps to no avail. With me being a student and having about 20p spare, this was a huge problem. We were a good 1.5 hours walk from home, which is fine for me but Dexter is only 5 months old, so that was a no go. None of my friends drive and my parents were working, thankfully my dad used his break to come and get me.
Dad’s break wasn’t for another hour, so we waited for him in the freezing December rain.
When we got home, 2 hours later than anticipated, all I could manage to do was kick my shoes off and flop into my chair with some tea. I’m a firm believer that the universe seeks balance, and for every bad thing there is a good thing, so I took solace in the fact that someone, somewhere had an absolutely awesome day.
To balance the blog negativity, here’s a picture of my puppy being handsome and adorable
(look at those ears, I can’t hardly stand it)
Today’s plan is to drink an absurd amount of tea and go rummaging through my stash to find some yummy fibre to play with. I’m thinking alpaca.
When I was a kid, right up until the age of about 15, I kept daily diaries. I love reading back through them, they’re a treasure trove of forgotten memories and amusement , and there’s just something quaint about them. The last decade however, has not been documented in any way (save for Facebook) and for the sake of middle aged me I feel I should start keeping diaries again. I have this rosy vision of little old me reading back through my life as told in my own words and smiling a little old lady smile to myself (don’t tell me that sites go bust and so might my blog, let me be in my happy place). A blog/diary (blogiary?) also has the benefit of pictures and actual legible text, plus it will serve to hold me accountable for The Knitting.
Yes my friends, the never ending, all consuming, obsessive, bordering on a problem, knitting. I am forever casting on new things and dropping them the second a new pattern so much as blinks in my general direction. At least if I’m documenting my projects I may feel some form of shame (maybe, no promises) that spurs me on to actually finish something.
Thus, without further ado, I present to you my current pile of projects.
That would be two stockings, a Celestarium, and two baby jackets hidden underneath. All of this is being completely neglected despite being overflowing right next to where I work every evening (selective sight is a wonderful thing). Today is a wonderful English day, meaning buckets of rain are pouring down upon me, and I fully intend to use the time sat inside drinking tea to Get Something Finished. Watch this space.