rhinebeck 2015: shamé
October 20, 2015
how to talk about rhinebeck.
how to talk about rhinebeck
when you haven’t talked
about knitting
in ages.
start simple.
the loot.
this was, perhaps,
the most restrained i’ve been
at a fiber festival, mostly just
replenishing those things i always do.
to begin,
my rhinebeck knitting.
i haven’t been knitting at all. at. all.
so i started simple with a garter stitch scarf knit lengthwise
using the fiber optic paint box gradient in swamp muck
purchased at rhinebeck in 2013.
i’m definitely not as deft as i once was;
i dropped a lot of stitches,
my gauge is inconsistent,
and i had to take breaks for achey hands,
but boy did it feel great to knit again.
gotta love that shift in brain waves
brought on by a repetitive action.
so since i was using this paintbox,
i gave myself permission to replace it.
(i couldn’t get a good shot on its own, but you see it in the first pic.
the colorway is steampunk in the kashmir base)
then i went to my towel lady, karen tenney,
of hawk meadow mountain handwoven textiles.
(look how artistic that macro shot is)
my mom’s been kinda awesome this year in the face of pretty intense stress. so when i saw these two towels that match the one i got her last time, i knew what i was buying from karen this go ’round.
(she doesn’t have a website, apparently,
but if you want more info you can email her here)
then i got my stock of handmade soap from simpler thyme.
a couple lavender, a tea tree, and sandalwood will last me a while.
i also stopped by gene matras’ booth,
stocking up on some of his notecards to sustain my semi-secret paper addiction. (*sigh* another artsy macro shot showing only the ass of the sleepy pig notecard. i guess i’m out of practice with photography as well.
at least you get an idea of the level of detail in his work)
someday, i’m going to get one of his originals.
and i better do it quick; he’s no spring chicken.
this next item i didn’t even have to purchase.
on the anniversary of the annual chili pepper challenge andrea and i inaugurated five years ago at which we (and now most of our housemates) sample the hottest sauce at the wild coyote booth,
old man chili himself gave us each
a free bottle of hot sauce.
he gave me a bottle of buried alive, the sauce that gets its flavor and heat via not one not two but all three varietals of the ghost chili.
this shit does not. fuck. around.
and finally,
the favorite thing i got a rhinebeck:
a selection of pieces gifted by sonya philip from her microscopy series. this gave me a lot of feels. a lot. i’ve admired sonya’s work since before i even knew who she was. and for her to just give me this work that she made… it meant a lot. i’ll treasure them and give them a place of honor in my tiny house.
well kids, that’s it for the loot.
i’m still meditating on how to tackle my rhinebeck post proper.
it was…an incredible retreat from reality, so restorative.
it stirred up a lot of things in me, happy parts of me
that haven’t been a part of my life in a while now.
i’m feeling really lucky to have gone
and want to write it up right.
see you tomorrow?
knitting archaeology
August 3, 2012
we all have skeletons in our closets.
as dude who grew up with pack rats,
mine is perpetually at capacity.
my recent retirement at my parents house*
allowed me to wade through and eliminate some of the actual crap
that my room has accumulated over the past twenty-seven years.
in the depths of my closet i discovered, among other things**,
a horrifying treasure from my knitting past.
that’s right.
i found my first knitting/yarn.
i thought it long lost, cast off and out of my life.
i should’ve*** known this yarn would haunt me for all of my days.
if you dig around my blog somewhere at the beginning,
you can find the story of how i first learned to knit.
i won’t reiterate that (awesome) story, now.
iet’s just say it was two in the morning,
i had a limited selection from which to choose,
and i like green.
because i love you, blog, so very much, and maybe because no amount of sin can ever wash the catholic completely from my blood, i feel compelled to confess my most grievous of knitterly sins to you. i just hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me for buying this yarn.
t’was ignorance, the folly of youth.
however, i refuse to post a photo of that yarn on this blog.
that shame would be too great to endure.
rather,
i’ll link you to it;
follow at your own risk!
post continues after the jump. nsfw!
>exhales<
i think i'll be ok now.
i needed to get that off my chest.
seriously, though, i was totally happy to unearth this yarn.
how many people have the first thing they've ever knit?
(don't burst my bubble and tell me it's a totally common occurrence)
and while the idea of finishing the project is beyond appalling,
i'm happy to keep this fun fur on their size 10½ boyes
rather than quietly disposing of the evidence.
just know that my time on the dark side was short lived,
and i quickly purchased some much better yarn.
(angry cat mug from danmade. totally ripping off cauchy’s style)
that’s right.
i found my second piece of knitting/yarn, too!
the seed of a stash that never grew.
there’s no ball band for this yarn,
but the receipt says its an alpaca/silk/cashmere blend.
(talk about going from yarn zero to sixty, right?)
though, the astute observer can still tell this is the work of newbie.
notice the yarn is still in a hank and i’m knitting directly from the skein!
i can’t tell you the number of times i’ve warned new knitters never to do this unless they want tangles and heartbreak,
and yet, somehow, it worked out for me.
i guess when you don’t know any better,
you just go for it.
go figure.
sadly,
shortly after knitting that patch of garter,
i stopped knitting.
there were a lot of reasons, really;
the yarn was wicked pricey, and i thought if this is what real yarn cost, i was in trouble (i didnt realize of course, there was a range of yarns from which to choose) more than that, i didn’t have a positive experience with the store from which i bought it.
but if i’m honest, all of that didn’t matter.
it was the purl stitch.
this was back before you could google anything and learn how to do it from watching a video online. (i think it’s important to remember such times) i don’t know how i was learning to purl, but it wasn’t working. years later i would realize the crucial information that was missing was to move the yarn forward.
constantly doubling one’s stitch count
whilst knitting green fun fur
would make anyone quit.
i’m just glad it was only a temporary condition.
à demain, mes amis!
*i always write ‘home’ and mean ‘my parents house’, but it confuses people. i makes me sad to have to make a distinction.
**like my louis vuitton shoes, bitches!! i miss the old economy. *sigh*
***for all you fellow grammar nazis, i’ve noticed a trend among my students. they write could’ve/should’ve etc. thusly: could of. i remember one student being shocked when i corrected them. makes me want to die.
wordpress ate this post
March 18, 2012
believe you me,
the post i wrote was fucking hilarious.
you might even have called it bitches get stitches gold.
but it’s gone.
should i try to recreate it?
will it come off as artificial?
what if i hadn’t even told you?
would you have noticed something was missing?
that ‘thing’, that quality of spontaneity in all my best posts?
it’s moot.
i’m not rewriting it.
instead,
here’s the spark notes version:
getting yarn as a gift no longer makes me happy.
rather, i see it as an unwittingly hostile act.
i live in a tiny apartment.
my stash is full.
i have no time to whittle it down
to add something new, no matter how beautiful.
so while when tina sent me yarn for my birthday/christmas
i was initially overjoyed by it’s timeliness
and my unexpected adoration for the grawk color way,
i soon realized there was no room in my blue moon bin for more yarn.
those two skeins just sat on my work table
mocking me every time i passed them by.
the twisted skein was particularly shameless.
i swear,
just once,
it flashed its junk.
the mopsy was more reserved.
it only showed a little side boob now and then.
well i refuse to be mocked by wool!
so i put that twisted skein on my swift
and started winding that bitch.
now,
that skein has some generous yardage.
so i realized my winder wouldn’t be able to take it.
all.
i knew i’d have to finish winding it by hand.
(this ain’t my first time at the rodeo!)
what i didn’t foresee, was that
this skein would break my shitty knit picks winder.
yes folks, my winder is now
in pieces!
undeterred, i slid the skein to my nostepinne
(can some give me a definitive spelling on that word?)
and wound the shit out of that skein.
i shed no tears for the crappy piece of plastic.
i wouldn’t give the skein the satisfaction.
but what to knit with it?
i already have the shawl
for those five minutes a week i can knit something complicated.
i needed something easy,
something i can knit in dark
when i’m at the film collective
or between sections.
but the thought of, say, a ribbed scarf
made me want to commit suicide.
the skein would want that.
and i won’t let it win.
then it came to me
a garter scarf knit lengthwise.
nothing could be easier, right?
and i’ve never knit one.
perfect.
the colors are distributing in a way i adore.
if i’ve done my math correctly, it’ll be a little more than 6′ long.
and with the extra yardage, i’m hoping it will be more stole than scarf.
sorry bitches.
veronica already called dibs.
here is where i had a perfect, witty segue to tell you about some new socks in my life. it was inspired and tied together two seemingly unrelated topics. but fuck it. it doesn’t work now.
here they are:
no, i did not knit these.
they were knit by the official sock knitter of bitches get stitches:
weirdy pants jen
i love jen for many reasons.
many a giggle fit was had over a funny look
or our shared views on parenting, and how you’re doing it wrong.
(really, we owe our friendship to our mutual friend, bessie, god rest her)
but it takes a special kind of knitter to knit socks
just because you ask them to.
they are slightly too big
by which i mean,
they fit perfectly.
by which i mean,
they have no ease,
positive or negative.
socks should have a tad of negative ease.
and while i’ve heard rumors of success with shrinkage,
that’s just not a concept i’m comfortable pursuing.
instead, they will be my new bed socks.
my favorite pair snagged on a trip to the lou
leaving a big hole in the foot.
these are a perfect replacement.
thanks jen!
there you have it, folks.
a shadow of it’s former glory,
perhaps,
but a post nonetheless.
ps dear tina,
ignore everything i posted above. it’s all lies. send me all your yarn whenever you please. a space just opened up on my work table!
Bitches Get Stitches 