A Mitten

Stephanie Pearl McPhee’s Cloisonee mitten caught my attention the other day – oodles of bright colors on the cuff – and even though I am in the middle of a few knitting projects, I had to try them out.  The cuff is what makes the mitten, and the fact you can do it in any colors you want, and as long as you want, make it a fun project.  Being a magpie, I flew to it!

I did change the pattern, though.  I did not have any worsted weight hanging around, but a lot of double knitting weight.  I had some Heilo, some Cowboy Colors, and pushed them together until I found a pleasing arrangement.  My gauge is 6 sts / inch on size 3 needles with this yarn, so I did the largest pattern.  I also want to note that with an increase of 4 sts. after the cuff is done, and picking up only 1 st where the thumb stitches are, the knitter is still left with 44 sts. on the needle (unless I missed something).  As a result, the final decreases, done every 5th st. will not work out.  I picked up another stitch to make the final hand a multiple of 5 stitches – 45.

To Swatch or Not to Swatch

Knitting gauge is individual. Persnicketiness is too.

Admittedly, I am a sloppy knitter because I do not get myself in a tizzy over my knitting. Dropped a stitch? Oh, well. I’ll either latch it up or not with a crochet hook. Missing a stitch? I’ll look for the offender and tie it off if it is way too far down, and add another if necessary. I don’t swatch because I know how I knit. However, for the sweater for Josh, I did swatch, but not for gauge, but for the patterns. How do they look in Brava and how do they look in this color?

A sweater is a big project, and a bit of understanding of a pattern’s texture is more important to me than my gauge. The gauge takes care of itself. What do I mean by that? I mean I have been knitting long enough to know that I knit 4.5 sts / inch with worsted weight yarn on US size 7 needles. I know that massive cables will bring in a big project about 15-20%. I figure about 5% for a lot of stranded knitting. And, because I do not follow patterns except for ideas, I also know that I can change things as I go along – or rip the whole danged thing!

In writing up patterns, I always assume a gauge to be an approximation. For some patterns, it is really important, as in fancy cable work on sweaters and jackets.  If you design your own, then you are the one in control.  If you follow a pattern, you are also the one in control.  Take the time out to see if something might work for you – or not.  Everyone who knits has their own style, their own tensions, and hence, their own gauges. Comments about how hats have turned out “too large” make me wonder if the knitter is willing to analyze their own knitting style, or is caught up with following directions and assuming all will be well.  I have seen knitters who do beautiful work, but fail to consider (or take responsibility for) if their knitting is going to work with a given pattern, and then blame the pattern, not themselves.

Designing anything does require a bit of forethought, as well as a bit of risk. I mentioned in one post about photography that I’d gone to a workshop where the photographer said that no work of art was unplanned. I think that is true – sure, some things are spontaneous and successful, but not all are. Experience, experimentation, frustration, imagination, intention, repetition are all the things which lead to success in any field. Even with all the best intentions, failures can occur; however, I always think that my failure may be a success in someone else’s eye.

Knitting is an activity like any other – running, kayaking, sewing, cooking, painting, writing. It requires some focus, and can give way to that pleasurable automation of the well-trained hand. A quality of “oneness” occurs that is soothing and calming – very zen! The art of knitting is very different from the act of knitting. When it becomes an art, all your knowledge comes into play, at whatever level you are doing it. Granted, the art may be highly pragmatic in results, but it is no less an art, whatever the utilitarian need being met.

So, to swatch or not to swatch? That is up to the individual. For me, I’ll leave it alone unless I need it. I’ll dive in and adapt a bit if I need to because it suits my personality far better. However, to create a pattern with texture – that is akin to painting. How do the colors respond to this or that? How shall I use this new brush? Then I swatch, because until I see the result, I will never know. Small scraps of paper, small textured swatches. Life goes on.

A Walk in the Camellia Wood

I spent a good part of yesterday in the Descanso Gardens, located in the city of Flintridge, California.  This is an active and ever-changing garden, located on a property of (I think) 150 acres.  Multiple gardens are found throughout the area, with various sections of native California represented – desert, riparian, chaparral – as well as other specialized sections, such as a Japanese garden and a camellia wood (my name for it).

Camellias are interesting plants.  Most of the ones I have seen in yards and gardens are pruned to be short.  The ones in the Descanso Gardens are big – really, really tall – and spread out over acres it seems.  Right now, some have come into bloom and dropped their petals like pink and red rain over the dried oak leaves.  Others are just beginning to bud.  Many are mixed, with buds and flowers.  I can only imagine what it might be like in 6 weeks’ time.  With paths winding in and out of the camellias, one can sit on a bench or scuffle through it all.

Besides the camellias, there are oak trees, old and gnarly.  I love oak trees, and to see these always is pleasurable.  Don’t you think that old oaks are the source of scary trees in fairy tales and the origin of Ents?  Druids worshipped them, and the Romans burned the sacred groves.  Oaks are powerful and magical – I never tire seeing nor photographing them.

The Descanso Gardens are ever-changing, depending on season and, perhaps, muse.