Friday, 21 January 2011

Camelstan

If I hadn't settled on Frog Land as a title for this blog, I would have been tempted to call it Camel Land. Except that sounds too much like Camelot. What about Camelstan? Stan being the Farsi word for place - you know, like the New Yorkistan cover.

I collect camels as well as frogs - this one,
a Steiff (sporting a tiny Turkmen camel bag),
belonged to my sister until I confiscated it. 
Anyway, Camelstan would admittedly be a pretty ridiculous name for a blog, but camels are definitely my favorite animal (after frogs, that is). This is probably due to their association with some of my favorite places - deserts and certain Asian countries. I spent my childhood in Iran and Turkey, and then a fair amount of holiday time in India while my parents lived there, plus three years in Uzbekistan as a Peace Corps volunteer, so I got used to seeing camels around the place. After all those years in Asia, I should know better than to sucumb to orientalism, but I just can't help it. Camels, the silk road, carpets and spices create an irresistible romantic mix.

So, when I discovered there was a yarn made with camel hair - called Fez - well, I just had to have it! It took me ages to decide on a pattern, but as these things usually happen, I saw a wrap on Ravelry that someone had knit in Fez and I was hooked. Not that I need any more wraps, but that is completely beside the point.

The pattern is Guernsey Wrap by Jared Flood, of Brooklyn Tweed fame. I'd never done a Guernsey or any of his patterns, so it was time to give it a try. You'll know Guernsey is an island and a type of square sweater, but it also refers to the stitch pattern of said sweaters, which incorporates simple knit and purl stitches to create a repeating pattern. It makes for easy, soothing knitting, resulting in a subtly textured fabric.

I chose the brick red - a good oriental colour, as demonstrated by my Karakalpak wall hanging.


Simple repeated geometric patterns are used throughout Karakalpak textiles, much like in the Guernsey patterns, so even though there is absolutely no connection of any sort, whether historical,cultural, geographic, etc..., I'll think of this as my Karakalpak Guernsey wrap. Or just my camel wrap.

Oh yes, and for the finished product:


And finally, just one last picture of camel - who could resist that face (or those toes)?!


Thursday, 13 January 2011

Accessory Overload

One of the dangers of being an obsessive knitter is that you end up with an awful lot of accessories. Though it is debateable whether one can have too many accessories. After all, scarfs, hats, gloves and mittens don't really take up that much time, wool or storage space, and the nature of accessories is that they should accessorize - i.e., match, or at least complement, your coats. Ergo, the more coats you have, the more accessories you need. I need a lot of accessories.

I don't like to be too matchy when it comes to my accessories, but I like to have an overall colour theme - or at least an avoidance of clashing colours. In my accessory collection this comes down to the general themes of blue/green/brown for spring/summer and reds and pinks for fall/winter. If I stick within this colour frame, everything goes together and I can mix and match gloves, scarves and hats. But if I go outside my comfort zone, I end up needing to fill out the accessory set. After all, what are you going to do with, say, a pair of mittens with no hat and scarf to match?

This is the situation I find myself in after completing my major Christmas project, a pair of stranded colour work mittens using the Forest Mushroom pattern in the most recent Twist Collective online knitting magazine. I've been wanting to do a pair of mittens like this for a while, to practice the technique before starting a fair isle cardigan. But whatever possessed me to chose these colours? Destashing, of course - I had the yarn lying around from a rejected project, and I decided I might as well free up some room in my overflowing yarn box.

The mittens turned out fabulous and they have been given the very appropriate name of Licorice Allsorts (I like to name my projects, it makes them seem more artsy). But even I have to admit the colours are just weird - candyfloss pink and a pinky purple, which the yarn company called violet. I don't really agree with this name - violet to my mind has deeper blue tones, whereas this purple is a mix of red and blue. I can't decide what to call it (colours need specific names, just like projects).

But regardless of what colour they are, they don't go with anything else I own. I'm wearing them anyway, because they are very cozy. The advantage of stranded colour work is that you end up with an extra layer of yarn at the back of the knitting, so even though the yarn is delicate enough to work intricate designs, your finished product is relatively thick. Which is no doubt why this technique is so popular in Scandinavia.

Eventually I'll probably have to knit myself a pink scarf, but for now I'm contemplating a beret to use up the yarn left over from the mittens. For a while there I thought I would write my own hat pattern based on the mitten design, but realised I would never get around to it. I'm tending toward Neep Heid, by Kate Davies. Which will no doubt look even crazier than the mittens, but hey, at least they'll match!

Sunday, 2 January 2011

New Year's Knitting

Hello, it's me again! Back from the abyss of Christmas in the countryside. Well, almost back - we leave Suffolk in two days, so I'm gearing up for a return to society. I was brought low by a nasty cold over the holidays, so I wasn't really up for much excitement over Christmas, but eventually one starts to recover, and the country quiet becomes positively stultifying. Every other year I look forward to some peace and quiet over Christmas, and every other year I start going stir crazy after about a week. Alternate holidays we spend with my folks in Grand Rapids, Michigan, which is also maddening, in its own way. We usually try to make a trip to DC or NY to get some relief from those leaden Michigan winter skies. In Suffolk we make it in to Ipswich a couple of times. Which really can't even begin to compare.

Anyway, Christmas this year was dispatched quickly enough, with one gift each and no singing, as everyone was sick and thus liable to lose their voice. New Year's also passed relatively quietly, with one firework and ancient sparklers that refused to light. And I settled on a couple of New Year's resolutions, even though I don't believe in them.

Resolution 1: To knit a sweater for my mother.

I've been planning to knit a sweater for my mother for Christmas for several years, but by the time I actually get started on my Christmas knitting, around the beginning of December, it is far too late. So this year I've decided to start her sweater in January. That way, even if I don't complete it before I set aside all woollen knitting in spring, I'll still have time to finish it off when I pick up wool again in the fall. My mother even has a pattern picked out. However, I'm not going to be able to knit her choice, because the pattern calls for 3 ply yarn, and I've learned the hard way to never again knit anything with sleeves in anything less than 4 ply weight.

Anyway, I don't think the pattern she picked out is particularly flattering. Here it is (Stone Garden Jacket from Japanese Inspired Knits):


And here is the pattern I'm going to do instead (Medallion Jacket from Vogue Knitting Winter 2008/09 in nice, quick knitting 10 ply worsted weight):


I will no doubt change my mind, but I do think the second jacket is more suitable. Nice and funky, and it looks like it would be a fun knit.

I've managed to finish up a number of projects over the holidays, so I might even be able to allow myself to start a pattern I've had my eye on for a while, a Fair Isle cardigan from Vogue Knitting Holiday 2009. It calls for 5 ply yarn, so just manages to make it over the insane knitting weight threshold.


Oh yes, and I almost forgot.

Resolution 2: go to bed at 11pm and read for an hour before going to sleep, instead of knitting until midnight. Obviously there is a tension between knitting and getting anything else done (to be further complicated once gardening starts up again in the spring) which is why I am determined to get started on next year's Christmas knitting right away.