Posie Gets Cozy

Square Patch

In an effort to keep the amount of supplies I have equal to if not less than the amount of space I have to store them, I would say I am on a constant quest to create things that use up a stash, whether that's yarn stash or fabric stash. I have lots of both. I don't think I have TONS of both, but I would say I keep a very healthy stash of supplies in my life. That said, the whole idea of a having a stash of anything really kind of bothers me — so this feeling is in conflict with my reality. Because in general I do not want to have things that I don't use, whether that's kitchen utensils, books, clothes, or fabric and yarn.  I don't consider myself a collector. I only want what I need and what I will use. The minute I feel any amounts of craft supplies bubbling over I can almost concurrently feel myself starting to twitch, and I begin designing something that will use up the odds and ends. So, a square-y, Hipstamatic-inspired crocheted patchwork blanket. Eighteen 3 1/4" squares done, one hundred and seventeen to go. I want that stash busted.

Er?

By the way, I keep meaning to answer a question that comes up every time I talk about blocking crochet or knitting. The question is, "Do you have to re-block every time you wash that thing?" And the answer is yes. For whatever weird reason, this has never bothered me. (Yet.) I sort of consider blocking to be one of those oddly satisfying little jobs in life. I almost never think, "Oh dang it, I have to go and block something today!" I almost always think, "Oooo, I get to block something today!" I don't know why. Just, weird like that. I wanted to block all of these patches for some reason I can't remember now. You don't have to block them before you stitch them together, necessarily, but you can, and I just felt like it.

There is so much going on in the house here today it's crayayayzy. Dan the electrician is here now, moving the big ceiling fan from the dining room to the upstairs bedroom. He is finished installing the two new lights over the dining room table and the light in the downstairs hallway.

I don't think I am going to write a pattern for that other stripey blanket that I made after all. I finished it, and I kind of liked the way it all came out, but I feel like I have kind of a creative backlog starting to happen in my life and that's bugging me. With spring coming, I think I need to remember to just keep moving forward and not get stuck. I think I like this new color-square-y blanket better, anyway, so I will write this one up instead. It's simple but it has a few quirks I should explain in a pattern. Onward. Andy and I also want to start a new project together, where I design an embroidery kit and he does the silk-screening to transfer the design to the fabric. I already have the design I want to use; now I just need to stitch it up. Can't decide if it should be crewelwork (with wool thread) or regular embroidery floss. Any preferences? It'll be a kit so we'll provide all the stuff. I'm kinda leaning toward crewel.

I got massively spammed here on the blog over the weekend, so I have reluctantly added one of those things where you have to type in the fake word before your comment appears so that the computer knows you aren't a robot. It solved the problem immediately so I'll probably leave it there, but I am sorry for the extra step!

Mina Crocheted Dress Pattern Now Available

Tulip time is coming and here is the first tulipfield dress! I'm looking out my front window and waiting for my 120 'Mistress' tulip bulbs to bloom. They look to be a couple of weeks off yet. Maybe in time for Easter? That would be wonderful. This will be the first year for these bulbs for us. We ordered them last year, when this trip to the color-striped tulip fields inspired the creation of a few tulip-striped crocheted dresses. Miss Mina is the first of the those for which I have (finally!) written a pattern. You can find the Mina Crocheted Dress pattern (and big huge pictures of the dresses) here.

6-12 months size

I'm (finally!) really happy with this one. It's done entirely in half-double crochet (my patterns are written in American crochet terms, by the way; Brits will have to translate terms and measurements out of inches) and I would say an advanced beginner — one who knows how to chain, do hdcs, change color, and increase — should have no problem with this. The pattern is sized for 0-3 months (6-12 months, 12-18 months, 18-24 months, 3-4 years). It also includes a measurement diagram thing (what do you call those?).

0-3 months size

This dress is also totally seamless, done from the top down. You still do it in rows, however; you just join the ends of the rows in the back, making a visible seam up the back to the opening, but I still prefer that to seaming, personally. When I'm done, I like to b done. I tell you how to join here without the twist that can sometimes happen. I have photographs showing you exactly where to put the hook in each stitch, but if you get stuck just let me know and I'll help you.

From the back

Photos and yarn details about the Mina dresses can all be found on my Ravelry project page. I also made the largest size in oatmeal tan with purple striping but I forgot that I never finished the belt or photographed it so I will try to do that this weekend and put it up there, too. I just simply can't believe it is already the weekend again.

Some other things I keep wanting to mention:

1) Portlanders, do not forget to get your Avett Brothers tickets for July 16 in Salem! They go on sale to the general public at 10 a.m. PST this morning. We will be down in section 4 somewhere — can't remember what row we are in. I can't wait.

2) I am doing an internet radio interview for Pat Sloan's Creative Talk Radio on Monday, April 11 (this coming Monday) at 4 p.m. EST (1 p.m. PST). You can listen to it live (and participate in the chat) or download it as a podcast afterward. I think I am on in the second half-hour of the show.

3) I read an entire book in one sitting a couple of days ago which I have never done in my entire life (I'd heard people talk about it but I never really believed it was possible). It is called Chosen by a Horse: How a Broken Horse Fixed a Broken Heart by Susan Richards. I heard about it last summer when our friend Ken visited and said that he sat next to the author on a plane ride back from Europe and she gave him her book for the ride (I think this is how it went). I picked the book up the other day and started reading it at 2 p.m. and finished it at 6 p.m. I was BAWLING at the end, couldn't even see to read. Like our mortgage broker says about this k.d. lang video he had us watch in his office (yes, picture it — awesome), "If this doesn't make you cry, you're missing a gear."

4) I have no idea why I keep reading and watching such sad things lately. The pioneer books? You guys. I've finished five of them now, I think. We have to talk. I will say that after the first two I had already decided to only read FUNNY BOOKS for the summer. More on this. . . .

5) Thank you to everyone who has sent emails because you thought I would love Jillian Tamaki's gorgeous, and I mean gorgeous, embroidered book covers for a new series of Penguin classics. Do. I. EVER. Wow. I might have to break my funny-books-only rule and get this version of Black Beauty.

Okay, I'm gonna let you go get your Avett tickets now!!! Hurry!

Chilly Colors

Everything was so beautiful at the PSU farmer's market this weekend. Spring colors are interesting. Sometimes they are so bright! I think that's partly because spring light is so weak — the colors really pop off of it, somehow. I'm vaguely obsessed with this . . . condition. I seem to explore brighter colors popping off of really dull neutrals a lot. Springtime in Oregon is all about color popping off of dull neutral — whether the dull neutral is mud (we have lots) or wet pavement (we have lots) or thick gray skies (lots and lots). Even dark green — like a perennial evergreen — feels like a dull neutral. It's very different than a pop-y, chartreuse-y spring green or even a mossy mint green.

This is Montgomery Court, one of the dorms on campus. It must be wonderful to wake up and walk right outside to the market every Saturday morning. This weekend went incredibly fast. I finished my log cabin quilt and I am so happy with it. I will give you all the details about the quilt now that I'm done; I'll try to take a nice picture of it today, though it's supposed to rain all day and it's so dark in the house right now it feels like about 7 p.m.

The puppers is trying to stay warm. I think she likes the new blankie, which is still in progress. Bright colors and neutrals. I'll prolly write up a little pattern for this one when it's finished. It is super easy and a great stash buster.

Monday morning. Getting off to a slow start!

A Spring Slog

I've been working on writing this little dress pattern pretty much nonstop for, I don't know, it feels like ever. Forever. In looking at it, I think, "Forever? Really?" It seems pretty straightforward, Alicia: Yoke, bodice, skirt. Not too complicated. But oh! The ripping out! The redoing! The sitting and staring incredulously! The re-ripping! The re-redoing! The sitting and staring! Well, I did make four versions, one each of four different sizes, to test them all. But still, my efficiency seems to be at an all-time low. Everything this week feels like uphill. Treading water uphill. Maybe swimming in mud against the mud-current. Not sure what that's about. Maybe just the end-of-winter slog-through. The weather is still cold and rainy-muddy. Chilly daffodils nod and look around, crisp-yellow, as if they're eagerly waiting for someone else to arrive at the party. But I've calculated some kind of new effort:time ratio, and according to Alicia-math I would say it takes approximately 3.375 times as much effort to get one thing done in about 4.125 times the usual amount of time lately. And of course you add an hour for the hour lost in Daylight Savings Time. And then you multiply by 3 for the standard March Differential ('cause it's the third month, etc.). You guys, that's 44.765625. And honestly, that feels like an underestimation of approximately 16. 5. Are you feeling this, too? Or is it just me (and every single other person I happen to talk to, which, though, granted I don't know that many people, it seems worth noting)?

But whatev. I (finally, finally) made a dress. The color reminded me of apple blossoms. (Springtime! I've heard the elders tell of you and I want to believe!) I was, though exhausted, quite happy with the end result. I hung it on the wall and took its picture, as I've done with a thousand other things, and then, instead of going back to the studio, I fell down on the bed and watched 1.75 hours of TiVoed episodes of Bethenny Ever After while trying not to fall asleep. It was only about 3:23 p.m. I decided I needed some exercise. I stretched out my back. My back felt like it was made out of Legos. I did fourteen leg lifts. I emptied the dishwasher. It seemed like a lot more work than usual. It seemed Sisyphean; there were dishes hiding under other dishes, and more dishes under those. The dog laid flat out on her side on the sofa and watched me with one roving eyeball. She couldn't be bothered to lift her head. I understood. Today, there will be walking. Lots and lots of walking. One step, two steps, three steps — and on and on like that. I think I will remember how to do it. I don't care if it pours cold rain on my head for an hour and a half (which it will). We have been in the house too long.

Right Where You Left Us

Yep, still here, right where you left us Sunday. And yesterday. And for that matter Saturday and Friday and I can't remember last Thursday, but we were probably here. It's the second home office. The one with cable. The third home office is actually upstairs in bed, where you can stretch your legs out and have a lot more yarn (and notebooks and calculators and rulers — oh, and animals) all over the place.

I love writing patterns, but it takes me a long time to write them. This is — hmm, let's see — the fourth version of this yoke/dress I've made in the last week.  But I'm getting really happy with it so we're almost there. Stripes are so weird. I've learned not to try to plan them out too much. You just have to go for it. Too much planning makes them feel too balanced and fussy. And the truth is, as I learned the ripple, each stripe you add changes the whole composition anyway. Also the same color can look COMPLETELY different depending on which colors it is right next to. It's really true. So, it's all good. Just let go and stripe. It's easier and, I daresay, better. In this one there's mustard, tomato orange, gray, mineral green, pale lavender, robin's egg blue, and then the terra cotta. I'm thinking the under-dress will be pale mustard-colored gingham.

After a year of almost all knitting, I'm amazed at how fast crochet actually goes. I forgot that. Once you get going you can probably put a dress together in a few days. Writing a pattern is slow because you do suff and then you change it, so you rip it out. Or you keep going and it's not until the end that you discover you wish those belt eyelets were one inch higher for that size. DANG. Or whatever. You plan as well as you can but you need to put it together to see how it all works together. And then I usually let it hang for a few days. I try to let myself mellow about it. If something is still bothering me, then I know it's a real bother. Thus, four versions. Sometimes you get it right on the first try. Sometimes not so much. But I love the process. I absolutely love it. I don't even know why. I dream about it at night and can't wait to wake up and get back at it the next day and work it out. I feel very lucky for that.

Sometimes I wonder what other job would make me really happy like this one does. And the weird thing is that I think if I weren't doing this I would have liked to have been . . . a horse trainer, or just the person that takes care of the horses. A groom.

???

For some reason that just made me bust out laughing. That would've been another life, and I've never actually written it down before or even probably said it out loud, but it's true. I think I would've really liked that job.

Silver Snow

PATTERN: Clara by Karin Vestergaard Mathiesen
SIZE: 12-18 months
YARN: Madeline Tosh Merino Light in Silverfox

Thank you very much for sharing our walk with me yesterday. It was really a very magical day. By nine a.m. all of the original morning snow was gone and the sun was shining as if there had never been a cloud (or a snowflake) in the sky. But then, later in the afternoon, the whole thing started up again: Tiny flurries buzzed the yard, and then larger flakes started to fall and stick, and then a full-blown snow squall enveloped our neighborhood. Clover and I sat on the sofa and watched from the window; it was like being in a snowglobe.

Taken from our living-room window, around 3 p.m.

Oh, how my heart twirled! It lasted maybe another hour. All the little girls across the street came out and threw snowballs at each other and chased each other through the yards. They reminded me of squirrels, playing up and down the oak trunks, wild in their delight. It was the lovliest of days. I really don't think I'll ever forget it.

I finished this dress last month and for some reason just never got around to posting about it. Apparently I was waiting for a fairy-tale snow to come and enchant me with its charms; the entire time I was working on the dress it seemed like a fairy-tale dress. When I finished it I was simply flabbergasted that I was able to make something like this. It felt conjured more than knitted, though I knew that there were parts of it that had been so hard, where I'd had to rip out and redo more than once, where every stitch was hard-won and utterly prosaic. But I couldn't remember where those parts were (and I definitely can't remember now). (Lord, please let that be a metaphor.) I just sat and looked at it for a whole night. I kept shaking my head. Really? How did I do that? Since I don't even really know how to knit?

That's sort of what I've been telling myself all these years, anyway. Knitting was so hard for me, and came so un-easily to me, that even though I've been able to knit and purl more or less without complication since about 1999 (I started trying to learn back in 1994 or so), I still never really think of myself as someone who can knit. I know that's strange, and not meant to sound falsely modest, but it's true. That is my perception. A year ago I wrote the story of how I eventually learned to knit. I think it is one of a small handful of things I've written in my life that help me tell the story of myself to myself. Eventually I will amend it to include what knitting has meant to me this past year. This dress will figure into that part of the story, how the whistling work of these days and their many stitches gave us hope and happiness. And confidence, when it was sorely needed. When I finished the dress, I hung it on the wall next to the sparkly lights on my side of our bed and we looked at it for a long time. For someone who doesn't know how to knit, I will admit that I felt very proud.

*For those who have asked, you can buy a kit for the dress from the US yarn distributor here. I bought the kit but didn't use the recommended yarn. Unfortunately I don't know if the pattern is available on its own; I have called Isager to see if it is and have not heard back. I am sorry but that's the best I can do, as this is just something I knit for myself and is not my original pattern to distribute or otherwise make available. You will have to contact Isager with any questions about the Clara dress pattern. Thank you for understanding.

Heartwarmer

PATTERN: Chauffe-coeur by Astrid LeProvost
SIZE: 2 or 3, maybe?
YARN: Mirasol Miski

I've been watching a lot of movies with beautiful fabrics and beautiful shawl-type things in them lately. The Young Victoria, Bright Star, Emma. There were so many beautiful shades of purple in The Young Victoria. It got me thinking about purple. Violets and mulberries and grayish-lavenders and slatey plums. Pluots. I see that I need to pay more attention to these colors. I have neglected them; they are not the colors I normally choose, but for some reason lately I am quite drawn to them. Plans.

This little shrug is called a heartwarmer, of chauffe-coeur in French. The pattern comes from this book that's written entirely in French, and I'll just say that yeah, I pretty much wung it. It's a simple shape, and I had a pretty good idea of how it was going to work. French knitting patterns are totally hilarious to put into Google translator. I don't think it helps at all! I had a lot of high-school and college French, so I sort of piece it together in my way. It's a clever little shape, and buttons (with flat, round oyster-shell buttons) on the sides in the back, though I forgot to take a photo of the back. Here is my Ravelry page.

The yarn is baby llama, which I've never used before and oh wow, is it ever scrumpdillyumptious. It's even softer than alpaca. I think it was a bit floppy for this pattern — my guess is that it will really sag — but it was gorgeous to work with, and made my hands very, very happy.

PATTERN: Solveig by Citronille (made longer than the pattern)
SIZE: 2
FABRIC: Moda Regent Street Lawn in Petite Floral (I got this at Fabric Depot sometime in January, but last time I checked they were out of it)

I really really really really really hope fabric designers start making more little calicos. They don't seem to be very popular right now. They are always popular with me.

Yummy little berry purples.

Some fabrics just make me so happy. This is one of those.

Folk Coat Show

PATTERN: Swing Thing by Theresa Belville
SIZE: 2-3 years
YARN: Garnstudio DROPS Nepal in Gray-Green 7139
BUTTONS: Orange Gerberas and Leaves wooden buttons from Apples and Eggs

The adorable Amy, Rob, and Dax the corgi came for dinner a few weeks ago (which reminds me that I need to remind Andy about that pizza post he was going to write). Clover, naturally, lost her mind with excitement. After several hours of being chased around the house, Dax effortlessly performed several tricks to the bewildered amazement of all of the Paulsons (including Clover Meadow). On command Dax sat, stayed, rolled over, played dead, danced, and offered his little paw in a delicate shake, then trotted away modestly to enjoy his treat. We sat, mouths open, deeply impressed. Andy (middle child) was immediately motivated to display Clover's skills to the crowd. He called her over to the living room and asked her to shake. Instead of offering him her little paw, she became a misguided tornado of earnestness: she fell over, sat, barked, laid down, rolled over, turned in a circle, knawed on his hand, collapsed to the floor, jumped to her feet, and barked again (it was more like a shout) in his face, all without ever really giving him her paw. She basically did everything she knew how to do and then some, all at the same time, kind of like if you'd said to your kid, "Sweetie, why don't you show our nice guests how well you play the clarinet?" and instead of picking up the instrument she started riding a unicycle around the house, speaking fluent Ubbi Dubbi, scratching her stomach, dribbling a basketball, and making cappuccinos for everyone in the room. It was hilarious. I sat on the edge of the sofa and smiled sheepishly as if to say, "Kids — what can you do?"

Anyway, ever since we've been trying to teach Clover the "give me your paw" thing for reals, and I think it's finally sticking (although it's still more of a pawing kind of thing as she lifts up her paw way too high and then tries to scrape my hand off as if she's digging a hole, but, you know — some kind of progress, at least). What any of it has to do with this swingy little knitted coat I don't know, except that . . . No. It has nothing to do with it.

Except that I'm showing it off. According to my Ravelry page for this, I started it on December 18 and finished it on January 19. I have several things that I actually did finish that I never did get around to posting about, so I will try to trot those out and show them off (hopefully they'll behave) over the next few days to try to maintain this effort at housekeeping I am making. Thank you for all of the comments on the little hat yesterday! I'm writing a pattern for it and am almost finished, so I expect to have that ready for sale next week (hopefully along with some finished hats, as well — fingers crossed!). I've also gotten a lot of questions about whether I am ever going to finalize the patterns for last spring's Tulipfield dresses (Anneke, Mina, and Saskia) and the answer to that is: Yes. I really am! I have to first knit the taxes and then I will work on those patterns next.

Knitting Guy

Seeeeeeeeerious cuteness. When she props her head up with an ottoman like this? Melt melt melt. And man knitting? Quadruple melt. I think I took this picture of these two last weekend. I believe Andy is knitting the actual egg white here (note briefcase to left of chair :-). Thank you for all of the totally hilarious and sweet comments yesterday! We were in the studio all day just cracking up every time one came in. Andy said, "You're friends are so nice." :-) So nice.

Andy is one of those people who picked up knitting in about four minutes. Prolly less. He asked me how it worked one time (probably ten years ago now), I showed him, and then he was knitting. A hat. And about five minutes later, socks. About five minutes after that: "Oh, I don't like how this pattern is written. I'm just gonna do it my way." I stared, goggle-eyed. "You what?" Sure enough, socks and hats flying off needles, along with various little creatures and now eggs and French fries. No prob. Can't find a pattern for a French-fry-sauce-dipping cup? No worries. He'll figure it out. Andy knitting is really an audio-visual-physical experience. He knits so tight I just about fall off the couch laughing every time I see him do it. He asked me to show him how to bind off recently because he couldn't remember. I picked up his needles and I literally could not get the stitches off of them. "Why'd you do this so tight?" Him: "So it wouldn't all fall off the needles!!!!" Me: " It's not gonna . . . nevermind. " All our bamboo DPNs (double-pointed needles) are shredded. Blunt and splintered. I gently suggested metal but he likes the nature. He's picky about some things, not about others. Yarn weight and needle size mean nothing. Not a thing. If it's the right color, he will use it. If the needles are at hand, he will use them. This frequently means he's knitting worsted-weight on, like, size 2s or something [pan to me, falling off couch laughing again]. There is talking: "What is this? Oh, okay, knit 3, knit 1 front and back. Wait, what? Oh okay, got it. Oh, you dont want to be knit? It's like this yarn doesn't want to be a fried egg or something! It's like you don't want to be a fried egg or something! That's fine. I won't increase you. I don't care. I've got a few extra stitches on here anyway. So I don't need you. That's totally fine." Keeps knitting (more-or-less) happily. Then, almost every time: Crack! [sound of needle breaking, broken needle being held up, goggle-eyed look given, laughter]. Almost every other time: Aaaaaaghhhh! [gasp, broken frizzy yarn being held up, goggle-eyed look given, utterly amazed look received, laughter]. And on and on like this. I was roaring. A few extra stitches on here anyway!!! OMG [knitters, feel free to guffaw here]. So adorable.

Maybe he's just trying to make me laugh. Works. Everytime. 
:-)

Fried Egg Guy

Hey everyone! It’s Andy. And this here is my fried egg. He’s feeling a bit iffy about being on display. With lots of encouragement, though, he seems to be keeping it together and even managing a little smile. He might be a bit nervous still from some of the not very nice things I was saying while making him. I tend to be a bit… full body contact… with my knitting. I’ve broken needles. And yarn. But all that was before he had a face. Anyway, I have finally gotten back into my briefcase with all my needles and yarn after a pretty long break. Maybe I’ll pull all the stuff I have been making for the baby (we’re still waiting to be chosen, no word yet) and take a bunch of pics of them. Pretty much the classics. Fried eggs. Socks. In Bears and Cubs and winter-woods-walk colors. I am currently working on my own pattern for a set of French fries and sauces to go with my favorite food cart – Potato Champion. I’ll post it on Alicia’s Ravelry when I finish. Thank you.