how to love your knitting, part two

It has been a hard few weeks around here, and especially for handknits.

Some personal events have recently made it obvious to me that too many people put themselves last in their own lives. We pile on lists of duties for both our professional and personal lives, ignoring the question whether those chores will make our lives better or worse. Seriously ridiculous things get added to these lists, like saving up piles of fabric for that mysterious day when we'll actually have the time and motivation to make that perfect postage-stamp quilt, or keeping disturbingly ugly or hole-y knitting around just because at some point you had thought it was a good idea. Not only is it mental clutter, but it can take a serious toll on the state of your living space, as well. Some things are just better thrown out or donated.

You can see where this is going.

After staring at my own post for a few days I realized that that mitten was a bad idea. It was the wrong shade of red to match my red cashmere winter coat, and frankly I'm not throwing away that coat just because the mittens aren't working. They were floppy. They were embroidered with little stars. Do I even wear things with little stars? Have I ever owned anything with little stars?

Goodbye, single mitten. I have warm thoughts of you becoming a little home for a mouse in a dump somewhere.

Throwing out that mitten suddenly made me feel much better. I no longer had to think about eventually finishing the embroidery or making the other mitten. In fact, I could now throw away the scrap yarn that I had made with it, anyway. Do you know where that yarn came from? It was 24" long pieces from when I frogged Crichton. I didn't deserve to knit with that kind of pilly, old, short yarn. Goodbye, yarn. And goodbye to the rest of the frogged Crichton, too. (It didn't end up being much - only about one large Ziploc baggie.)

Now that I was digging around underneath my bed, searching for the rest of the Crichton yarn, I came across a whole container of yarn that I'd been saving up for a tesselating fish blanket. It was all acrylic and from the 1980s. Enough said. The potentially useful and un-knitted yarn was donated. The rest joined the now half-full bag in the garbage. Suddenly I had a whole empty container for my worthwhile yarn, and thus a storage problem that has been going on for about seven months was resolved.

At this point I was tired and pretty dusty, so the knitting massacre was, for the time, done. Before the end of the week, however, I went through my drawers and threw out all of my stockings, these green socks and the red/white socks, all because of truly disastrous holes. I also donated some mittens that had been accidentally shrunk in the wash. I find that getting rid of things actually makes you feel like you have more, because now all your nice stuff is easily accessible. My sock drawer is looking pretty well-dressed right now. For good measure I unraveled the very first project that I posted to this blog, too, because I'm kind of over frost flowers and leaves and the whole double-thickness lace scarf thing right now. Now I have two skeins of laceweight to use for one of the Victorian Lace Today scarves.

And, finally, after months of procrastination, I ripped out my Hourglass Sweater. I think I wore that sweater three times before it stretched out of shape permanently. Alpaca was a poor choice for that sweater, especially since I knitted it kind of loose.

For a little bit of time it was turning into a Vogue Knitting sweater.


However, I wasn't really sure that those cables were going to do anything for me, and by the time I got to the sleeves and realized that the pattern was completely wrong, I really didn't care enough to continue.

So, frogged again, this time in favor of the sideways-knitted cardigan from Poetry in Stitches. And there we have success. Although right now it just looks like a whole lot of garter stitch.

And finally, I feel like knitting again.

Join me, knitters of the world, in ridding yourself of too many duties, whatever that means to you. You're worth it.

finished!

My version of the Poetry in Stitches cardigan on page 122. I made it out of Morehouse Merino laceweight (3 skeins of natural black, and 5.5 skeins of the contrast color) on size US 1 needles. I lengthened it (a lot), made it symmetrical, followed Elizabeth Zimmermann's directions for a circular set-in sleeve (found in Knitting Workshop), and after using Dawn Brocco's beautiful sewn steek, realized that hooks and eyes weren't going to work, and sewed up the steek after all.

Although it was stiff and bumpy during knitting, after washing it became soft and acquired a beautiful drape. I neglected to include the neck border chart, and instead just picked up stitches up the body and around the neck, and finished with the picot border that was done on the hems of the body and sleeves.

The inside-out view. I originally wanted the main color to be the pink, and the contrast to be the black, but couldn't stomach the idea of having dead, black plants on a sweater. At least not when it's almost Spring.

there is no three

I promised myself that I would take a picture of my sweater the first day that it didn't rain. I'm sorry to say that I've kept this promise - we haven't had a single nice day since my last post, nearly a month ago. Even now, it's impossible to go outside without the wind blowing you away. I had to chase my knitting across the yard earlier, much to my neighbors' amusement.

I've gotten a lot done in the past month. I knit both of the sleeves, attached them to the body, and have knitted about an inch around since then. Another inch, and then I can start decreasing for the set-in sleeves. If you feel like doing this, instructions can be found in Elizabeth Zimmermann's Knitting Workshop.

I did make one mistake. Can you see it? The sleeves are knitted on just slightly smaller needles than the body. I didn't discover this until I'd already attached the first sleeve to the body. As Louis Armstrong is reported to say, if you do it twice, it's not a mistake. So I used the same needles for the second sleeve. It's a small enough difference to not alter the width, and I've only lost about 1/2 an inch on the length. I suspect I'll be able to block most of that out.

two

Two leaf repeats done.

Can you see any difference at all?

I have one more repeat to do, and then I'll be at the underarms. After that I'll start the sleeves. I've decided to work circular set-in sleeves, using Elizabeth Zimmermann's directions in Knitting Workshop. I've lost the hatred for dropped sleeves that I used to have (I discovered with my previous Poetry cardigan that they can look quite normal if you don't have a lot of ease), but I really would prefer to have less seams to sew. I want to wear this sweater as soon as I can.

I realized today that my sweater is going to look very different than the picture - which sounds ridiculous, but it's one of those things that I had to see in order to really understand all the differences. Colors aside, I am really not following the directions given for this sweater. When I knitted my previous Poetry cardigan, I was able to follow all of the instructions because of my gauge. The pattern's gauge was 30 stitches/4 inches, and mine was 36 stitches/4 inches. This meant that if I followed the directions for the larger size (43 inches), my finished sweater would actually come out to 36 inches, which was just what I wanted. In this case, however, if I just followed the pattern's instructions I would end up with a sweater that was much too small.

Using my gauge, I figured out how many stitches I would need around the entire sweater for it to fit properly. My magic number ended up being 324. Looking at Chart A, which is 6 stitches, I knew that I would end up with exactly 54 repeats around my sweater - perfect. Chart B has 28 stitches, which unfortunately means that if I didn't do some fudging, I would come out with 11.5714...repeats of those peonies around myself. Since I never did like fractions, I substituted some numbers and discovered that if I wanted 11.5 repeats around (which, although a fraction, is at least a more manageable one), I would need 322 stitches. After that it was only a simple manner of decreasing 2 stitches when I was ready to start Chart B, and making sure that I centered that half of a peony at the front of the cardigan. Chart C (the leaf pattern that I'm working on now) was another easy one - it has 18 stitches, which goes in evenly to 324. I increased 2 stitches at the beginning of Chart C to get back up to my magic number, and then sailed away. It didn't hurt that I decided to make my cardigan symmetrical, either. It was a lot easier to center Chart B, and I suspect that the sleeves will be much easier to attach, too.

Now, though, I have more peonies around the border, and I'm going to have quite a few more leaf repeats, too. The picture from the book only shows 1.5 repeats of leaves on the body - I'm already past that, and I'm not even done. I'm hoping that it won't make the sweater look too busy. I'm already a little astonished at how pink it's going to be.

one

I should have specified in my last post that the Morehouse merino yarn I'm using for my Poetry in Stitches cardigan is not an exact substitute for the Hifa yarn. Instead, I'm using my own gauge to re-work the numbers and get a cardigan that will be smaller. Since I'm getting substantially more stitches per inch than the pattern's gauge, however, I'm actually casting on more stitches than the pattern calls for. In other words, if you have a desire to knit this cardigan, you will not necessarily have to do as much knitting as I am.

I finished one leaf repeat, and I have altogether nine inches. My last post's photo is much more true to color than this one is. You know how it is with the incessant January snow - or maybe you're lucky, and you don't.

beginning

My goal for 2008 is to clear out all of the yarn I have hibernating in my home. Old houses may have their charms, but closet space is definitely not one of them. My two small closets are already full of clothes and linens - yarn just doesn't have a place in them.

This means that I finally had the incentive to start another cardigan from Poetry in Stitches. I had bought the laceweight yarn from Morehouse Farms just before they closed their store, Sheep's Clothing. That happened a few months ago - that probably doesn't seem long to most of you, but when you have a line of bags full of yarn marching out of your bedroom closet, it seems like forever.

I worked for three days on this cardigan and only barely have six inches to show for it. I've just completed the decreasing for the waist shaping that I decided to do, and after working a few inches straight I'll start to increase back up. There are just under 400 stitches to do for every round - not quite a quick knit. Once I reach the underarms I'll start the sleeves, and then work a seamless set-in sleeve a la Elizabeth Zimmermann.

Another shot of those poor socks that are doomed to be photographed in bad lighting until the end of time, it seems. At least they keep my feet warm...

all's well that ends well

Those beads did get sewn on, after all.

This is, of course, the "bridal cardigan" from Poetry in Stitches, although I've just come to think of it as my purple cardigan. The only major change I made was in my yarn. I used Morehouse Merino Farm's laceweight in three different colors; one skein of the dark blue, five skeins of the light blue, and six skeins of the purple. I also used 1.5 tubes of clear seed beads and I was very happy to discover the "big eye" needle, which will stretch to fit a strand of yarn, and then shrink to allow the bead to easily pass over.

What can I say except I'll never take it off?

when bad things happen to good sweaters

I like to believe that sweaters are inherently good. Sometimes they will do bad things, like slipping into the washing machine and felting, or running away when you take the bus, but mostly they want to be good. They warm you, shelter you from the rain, and sometimes they're just there to be pretty.

Which is why I think it is so sad when bad things happen to them. Like, oh, I don't know, when a steek decides to leave and your sweater explodes.

I do not know why or how this happened. I had used the crocheted steek (method can be found on Eunny's old blog) and successfully picked up stitches for the border, as you saw in my last post. A few days ago, I picked it up and started to knit the border, and whole sections of the crocheting fell away and left hundreds of loose yarn ends to frantically try and run through the whole sweater. I entered a strange stage of calm. I carefully put the sweater down, covered it with a pillow to protect it from the cat, and sent out a few e-mails asking for help.

As I should have known, the very talented Hege was the one who ended up with the best solution. We both agreed that it needed to be sewn somehow, but whereas I was all for pulling out the sewing machine and trying to drill it all down, Hege recommended Dawn Brocco's handsewn steek method.

This worked so well that I almost couldn't believe it. So far, I have sewn two rows up the left side of the cardigan, effectively anchoring all those ends that so badly want to move. I think I may do one more row, just to be sure. I'll then have to repeat this on the right side - so far that side is holding together much better, but I don't want to take any risks, and besides, it will be symmetrical this way. At that point I'll pull off the crocheting and then carefully tack the cut ends to the back.

As I said, I'm not sure why this happened. I examined the edges carefully, and as far as I can tell, I executed the method correctly. I'd used this method in the past, on both the Crichton cardigan and Snow Sky, and hadn't encountered anything like this. My only ideas are that perhaps the fingering weight merino is just too small and slippery for the edging to hold, and/or maybe I didn't pull the crocheting tight enough. Whatever the reason, I will definitely not be in a hurry to use this method ever again.

for whom the bell tolls

I never thought I'd make it far enough to say this, but the end is in sight! Thanks in great part to Hege, I was able to sew in the sleeves successfully, with minimal tears and sweat. I cut the steek last night, and picked up more than 400 stitches to make the border for the fronts and neck. All that's left now is actually knitting the border, sewing the final picot hem at the bottom, and then putting on the sweater and passing out into a heap until I've mustered up the strength to drive to the yarn store and pick out yarn for another colorwork sweater. I'm guessing that will take, say, 10 minutes.

closing in

Has it really been one month?

The sleeves are both done, and the hems are sewn.

Somehow, all those ends have been woven in. I haven't attached the sleeves yet, though.

It will have to wait - I'm busy!

a garden that needs to be weeded

Well, that's a big mess, isn't it? I've never seen a sweater in more dire need of sewing and blocking, but I think after I do that it will start to look much better. The first sleeve went much more easily than I thought it would, although I did discover that those picot edges are a real pain when done on double pointed needles. To anyone knitting this sweater or a similar one - do the round on bigger needles very loosely. Trust me.

As I start to see the end for this sweater, I've been planning which colorwork sweater I'll knit next. I've been thinking that this sweater from Poetry in Stitches would look nice in white with a blue design. And maybe Crichton could be resurrected in black with a gray design? Don't answer that, I think I'm being crazy again.

(Jessica reminded me to add that of course both of these potential sweaters would have waist shaping, and I'm thinking set-in sleeves for both, too. I love the charts, but the lack of tailoring isn't really for me.)

a confession and a body

The keen eyed of you might have noticed that the cowl neck sweater in my last post is suspiciously the same color of the Salina sweater that I was working on. I admit it - I am a yarn cannibal. After finishing Salina and seaming, I tried it on and was horrified by the fit. I think my mistake is that I followed Rowan's suggested fit size, instead of looking at the measurements and choosing what I ordinarily would. The seed stitch border, which looked so pretty flat, also fell at a rather inconvenient place on my stomach and added about 10 pounds. I am still going to be knitting some patterns out of Vintage Knits, but will probably not be trying Salina again, and will be more aware of what size I am actually knitting. I'll probably also convert the sweaters into circular knitting. I just hate the way seams feel in a handknit sweater!

In more happy knitting news, my cardigan from Poetry in Stitches is trucking along nicely. I've finished the body up to the armholes, and also finished the two fronts. Now I'm knitting the back up to be the same length as the fronts. I have about two pattern repeats to go. The pattern calls to knit back and forth on the three pieces - or, in other words, to purl while stranding. I finally caved in and taught myself the Norwegian purl method (also found in Elizabeth Zimmermann's Knitting Without Tears), which has made it a little easier.

Whenever I get frustrated with it, I just look at the fronts of the sweater and admire my "spiked" edge.

Yes, that's right - spikes. On my sweater. How cool is that?!

how to love your knitting, part 1

(Note: for those of you who aren't interested in my babble, there are quite a few photos of new knitting projects interspersed with this entry. You can just scroll through and read the captions on them, if you prefer.)

One of the best parts about knitting is that one can make a garment to fit any size or shape. One of the worst parts is discovering that the pattern you want to make does not come in your size, is the wrong shape, or worse yet, calls for a yarn that you either can't afford or can not find. Perhaps the easiest way to get around this is to only knit patterns that you have designed yourself, but even the most talented designers sometimes just want to knit somebody else's pattern. And let's face it, if you find the perfect sweater, why re-invent the wheel?

The absolute easiest way to change a sweater's general size is by playing with the gauge. You do need to knit a swatch and measure, but it's very easy and totally worth the results. I find that there are two different scenarios when you find a sweater that needs its size tweaked: you either have yarn that you already have in mind, or do not yet have any yarn and are looking for which yarn to buy. I will discuss these in order:


You have yarn, you have a pattern, but the size is either too big or too small:

1. The Swatch.

I read a lot about people who say that swatches "lie", and that they don't bother knitting them because they are not an accurate representation of the sweater. I think this is because there are many misunderstandings about what you need to do with a swatch in order for it to work for you. I also have heard the explanation that a swatch "wastes" yarn, and that the knitter only has a limited amount. It is very easy to frog the swatch after you've made the pertinent measurements and re-use the yarn - trust me. After seeing me work my way through the ripped-out Crichton yarn, you know that I'm not one to waste a yard of yarn.

The first step with swatching is, obviously, to pick up some of the yarn you have chosen and a set of needles. Since the pattern's gauge is not going to matter to you, you get to choose any needles you want, so long as you like the fabric that they produce. Generally, you will want a needle that is about the same thickness as the yarn. If you are a loose knitter, you will need to go with a needle that is a little smaller than the yarn. If you're a tight knitter, you will need to go with a needle that is a little larger. Knit a few rows, and if the fabric looks bad, switch your needle size accordingly.

The second step to swatching is making sure that you swatch "in pattern". Usually this is stockinette, but if the sweater has a different stitch pattern (cabled, lace, etc.) you must knit your swatch in that. If it's a good pattern, it will tell you which stitch pattern they want you to swatch. It's generally whatever the majority of the sweater is knitted in.

Now, the knitting. This is where you need to be the most careful. You are going to want to cast on enough stitches to successfully measure your gauge. This is about 4 inches, or 10 centimeters. I know it seems boring, but it will go very quickly, and it's so much better than finishing an entire sweater and discovering that you will need to adopt an orangutan into your family so that it will fit someone.


There are also other advantages to swatching - here, you can see that I originally tried a cable pattern. I discovered that not only was the cable pattern given incorrect, but it really did not show off the yarn nicely at all. It was much easier to discover this after casting on 30 stitches, rather than discovering it after I had cast on enough for an entire body of a sweater.

Yuck.

During this step, you are also going to want to take note of how you are knitting - are you wrapping the yarn tightly, or letting it fall as it may? I was practicing my continental knitting (I am an English knitter, originally), and was careful to feel just how I was knitting. This is also another good reason to make a good-sized swatch. Not only does it allow you to "feel" your knitting, but it also gives a more accurate representation of how you will be knitting when you start your sweater. If you only knitted an inch-wide swatch, your knitting style would be much different than an entire sweater, since you would be knitting a little tighter in that small space.

In this swatch, I was using a cotton yarn with some elastic, and had to make sure I didn't tug the yarn too tightly in order to get a correct swatch. Blocking will take care of the small irregularities that are bound to happen. You'll be seeing more of this swatch in a later post.

Also important: if the sweater is knit circularly, you must knit your swatch circularly. You can do this on double-pointed needles, but my favorite trick is to take a circular needle, cast on enough stitches for your swatch, and work one row. Next, slide the knitting to the other end of the needle, take the working yarn and make a big loop (think a loop about a foot long - you absolutely do not want it too tight, since it will make your swatch buckle in on itself), bringing it up to the work and knitting the next row. Slide the swatch to the other side of the needle and do it again. By doing this, you're only knitting on the right side of the work, thus giving you a swatch that is representative of circular knitting.

The back will look something like this. It's crazy, but it works.

The final step with your swatch is also very important. After binding off, you are going to wash and dry your swatch in exactly the same method in which you will be washing and drying your sweater. Swatches can change dramatically during this step. I usually measure the swatch before I wash and dry it, and then afterwards, just so I can see the difference. I would suggest measuring it over two inches, and make sure that you measure right in the center, since your stitches will be the best there (don't count those edge stitches, they are always pulled out of shape and will give you a bad measurement). It is also helpful to measure before and after the wash, since while you're knitting it you may become a little panicked about the size, and if you compare your gauge at that moment to the original gauge, you can comfort yourself that the size will be correct after it is washed and dried. For my swatch, I soaked it in the sink in cold water with some baby shampoo, rinsed it, and let it dry flat. The wool grew and made my final gauge 10 stitches/2 inches and 14 rows/2 inches. After you have measured your real gauge from your washed and dried swatch, you will feel an overwhelming sense of satisfaction and pride. No longer will you knit the perfect sweater, only to clean it and discover that it has now grown in width and length - or worse yet, refuse to wash it at all.

These socks were knit from the same yarn, with the same needles, in the same week. The bottom one was washed and the top one was not. Their heels are lined up exactly - the size difference you see is entirely from being wetted and dried. They are the Buds and Blossoms socks designed by Katherine Misegades.

2. Your Gauge.

Now you have a fresh, beaming little swatch, and are almost ready to tackle the whole sweater. The final step is calculating your gauge. You've already measured your gauge from both your pre-washed and washed swatch. You are only going to bother right now with your washed swatch's gauge. Let's say that it is 10 stitches/2 inch. We divide that, and find that it is 5 stitches/1 inch. If you divide and find a fraction, make sure you use that fraction! The little bits can add up and really alter the size of your sweater.

Next, we look at the pattern. I used pattern #20, a cowl neck sweater, from the fall 2006 issue of Vogue Knitting. The pattern gives instructions for four different sizes, that range from a 34" bust to a 46" bust. This does not matter. The sizes and inches given are only for their gauge, and since we have our own, we can cheerfully ignore them. The only important information is the number of stitches given for the bust. This is usually about the same as the cast-on amount, and in this pattern it is equal to that amount. I converted this pattern to be knitted circularly, so the number of stitches I was casting on was the total amount for the body. As per the pattern, these are either 144, 160, 180, or 196 stitches. If your pattern is knitted flat, you will be adding up the number of stitches from the back and front, subtracting 4 as those are used in seaming, and then using the remaining number to calculate your size.

To find out which one of these cast-on amounts I needed to use, I took my gauge of 5 stitches to 1 inch and started to divide. The first cast-on amount would give me, with my gauge in my choice of yarn and needles, 28.8" (144 stitches / 5 stitches per inch = 28.8 inches). The second number gives me 32" (160 stitches / 5 stitches per inch = 32 inches). The third number would give me a 36" bust, and the final number would give a 39.2" bust. I chose the size that suited me the most, and cast on.

The beauty of this method is that now you do not have to worry about any more math, and the inevitable crossing out and re-writing of instructions that comes with it. You can cheerfully follow the instructions for the cast-on amount, and whether the pattern lists that as a small or an extra large, you can be confident that it's going to turn out to fit you beautifully. There is one small hiccup with this plan, and this is your row gauge. Many patterns will just tell you to knit for a certain amount of inches, but occasionally will tell you to work a decrease every 10th row, as this pattern did. To find out how many rows that would require you to knit, you will need to do just a tiny bit more math. This is what I do:

I need to decrease every 10 rows. What the pattern is really telling me is that I need to decrease over a certain amount of inches, but the designer has tried to be helpful and simplify it for me (it is amazing how many patterns, and particularly American ones, try to over-simplify and just make you more clueless). I take a look at the pattern's gauge, and see that this was written for a fabric that measures 4.25 stitches per inch, and 5.5 rows per inch. So really, 10 rows is 1.8 inches (10 rows / 5.5 rows per inch = 1.8 inches). I look at my row gauge, which is 7 rows per inch, and now calculate how many of MY rows would equal 1.8 inches. 7 rows x 1.8 inches = 12.6 rows. Since it's impossible to knit .6 of a row, I just round it up to 13 rows. Now I know that I really need to decrease every 13 rows, in order to have the waist shaping come out correctly.

If that confuses you, this is all you need to do:

1. Using THEIR gauge, find the number of rows per inch. (Generally a gauge is given over 4 inches, so you'll probably be dividing the numbers they give by 4.)

2. Look at the amount of rows that the pattern wants you to increase or decrease over.

3. Divide your answer from #2 by the answer from #1. (#2 / #1)

4. Take a breather. I didn't like math in school, either.

5. Look at YOUR row gauge per inch.

6. Multiply your answer from #3 by your answer from #5. (#3 x #5)

7. You're left with the number of rows that you're going to need to decrease or increase over. Cool, huh?

Is it worth it? I think so.

Cowl neck sweater from Vogue Knitting, Fall 2006. The yarn is Cascade 220, the Heathers collection. Every modification I used is listed above. It is my new favorite sweater.

You have a pattern, but the sizes aren't ideal. You still need to buy yarn.

You're going to love this method.

For example, I'm going to use the cardigan I'm making from Poetry in Stitches. The only sizes given are for a bust of 40 inches or 43 inches. I know right away that these sizes are not going to work for me, and that I'll need something much smaller. I tried to fool around with the design, but ultimately it was just too fiddly.

1. The Only Step.

Figure out what bust size you'd like best. You can do this by measuring around yourself and guessing at how much ease you want, or by measuring a sweater that you like. Look at how many stitches you will have on the needles at the bust (most likely about equal to the cast-on number). For this pattern, my choices are either 289 stitches or 309 stitches.

Either those 289 stitches or 309 stitches are going to give me a width of 36". It's just a matter of which one I'd like to pick. I divide 289 stitches by 36 inches and get 8 stitches/inch. 309 stitches divided by 36" gives me 8.5 stitches/inch. I now know that I'm going to want to find a yarn that gives me one of those gauges. As luck would have it, the Morehouse Merino laceweight yarn gives me exactly 8.5 stitches/inch, so all there was left to do was buy a whole bunch and dust off my needles. The same rules about row gauge apply, as detailed directly above the bold text. Beth had asked me if the Morehouse was a direct substitute, and I saw quite a few Google queries about it, so for those of you searching, please know that it is not going to give you the same gauge as the recommended yarn. In this case, though, it gives me a better gauge, and you may find the same.

Jen asked how to determine how much yarn you're going to use. After doing this a few times you'll have a good idea, and some yarn ball bands even tell you how much you need for a certain size sweater. If you need some help for now, though, check out this webpage in HTML or PDF format.

Two flower repeats in. I've finished the increasing and am now working straight to the armholes.

purple and blue

I'm not sure which came first, the knitted flowers or the ones outside my window.



The beginnings of a cardigan from Poetry In Stitches. I'm using three colors of Morehouse Merino's laceweight yarn, for a gauge of approximately 9.5 stitches per inch. More details when I have the time.