I spent all winter knitting it, here is the lacy little top.  Bambu 7 from Woodland Woolworks, pattern from Lanaknits.   2008 02 29_0005_edited-1
I do apologize for the poor focus mirror pic. Best I could do without a helper.

I like the drape, though it reveals more of me than I am altogether comfortable with. I love the feel of the fabric.  I think I got the fit pretty much right, though if I knit it again I’ll probably increase the number of stitches in the lace part, for a roomier skirt, and I’ll give it some short sleeves. Cap sleeves may be a little young for me. There are amber glass leaf beads on the ends of the ties. The ties are not i-cord, but something my grandmother liked to use for drawstring, which I found in the Mary Thomas Knitting Book. My grandmother made them by the dozen from crochet cotton, and they have a nice elasticity, hold a overhand knot and bow (like you tie your shoes) well, come untied easily when you want them to, and do well in the washer and drier. I don’t think it would be violating copyright if I told you that it is as easy as cast on two, yo p2tog until you have the length you want.  It’s an unvented kind of a thing.  I took the liberty of copying this quotation from the linked page:

The ur-geek of knitting is Elizabeth Zimmerman, whose many innovations include EPS, and the primogenitive Pi Shawl. EZ had the Bach-and-Escher turn of mind for structure. She referred to her inventions as “unventions” because to her, they were all just logical extensions of the existing technology, a matter of seeing something that was always there rather than creating something new; so she could never believe that someone else hadn’t done it before:

Do you mind the word “unvented”? I like it. Invented sounds to me rather pompous and conceited. I picture myself as a knitting inventor, in a clean white coat, sitting in a workshop full of tomes of reference, with charts and graphs on the walls. Not real knitters’ charts, which are usually scribbled on odd and dog-eared pieces of squared paper, or even ordinary paper with homemade squares on it, but charts like sales charts, and graphs like the economy. I have a thoughtful expression behind my rimless glasses and hold a neatly-sharpened pencil. Who knows but that I don’t have a bevy of handknitters in the backroom, tirelessly toiling at the actual knit and purl of my deathless designs?Rubbish.

But unvented—ahh! One un-vents something; one unearths it; one digs it up, one runs it down in whatever recesses of the eternal consciousness it has gone to ground. I very much doubt if anything is really new when one works in the prehistoric medium of wool with needles. The products of science and technology may be new, and some of them are quite horrid, but knitting? In knitting there are ancient possibilities; the earth is enriched with the dust of the millions of knitters who have held wool and needles since the beginning of sheep. Seamless sweaters and one-row buttonholes; knitted hems and phony seams—it is unthinkable that these have, in mankind’s history, remained undiscovered and unknitted.

EZ  left us a legacy of many wonderful creative things.  I think it is quite possible that no one ever thought of most of them before she did.  She’s one of my favorite gurus.

I think I like the top.  I think I’ll keep it for myself this time.   And wear it with a hoodie.


knitting unrelated to Christmas

I have two in progress right now, a shrug of my own design in silk rhapsody (heavenly stuff),

and lanaknits lacy little top in Bambu 7, color borage.

I really like the way it’s knitting up, but I’m losing confidence in my calculation that I have enough yarn to complete it. Wish me luck. This is what the yarn looked like before casting on.

My two dogs sleeping in the same place! This is so rare, I had to document it.

Merlin (the little white one) usually scorns to keep company with his baby brother Arthur, but Arthur had the best blanket, so Merlin stoops to lie down with the big guy. Merlin has recently been diagnosed with the rare and puzzling neurologically affective little white shaker dog syndrome which causes episodes during which he looks like a tiny little drunk, kinda wobbly, can’t do steps. There doesn’t seem to be any pain or distress, and he is responding well to treatment, which is corticosteroid therapy. The vet first suggested tiny little prednisone pills, which would have been less expensive, but would definitely have affected my lifestyle adversely. The little fellow is an expert pill chucker, and sneaky too. Fortunately the vet was able to prescribe pedia-prednisone, which is administered in a sweet liquid, so Merlin gets 1/2 teaspoon of dessert after every meal. He is delighted with this medical measure, and Arthur is very jealous. We have not seen an episode since beginning treatment. Apparently this is so rare that most vets may see it a handful of times over the course of their careers. Aren’t we the lucky ones?