This is everything I accomplished at Madrona. Not a lot to show for myself, is it? On the spindle is a small quantity of really softly spun Cormo and CVM 2-ply, and on that loooooong straight needle is about 20 ridges of garter stitch in really yummy Jacob/alpaca DK from Toots LeBlanc.

But I can now tell you what cop is (the yarn you’ve made that’s wound around the spindle), I can use the drop spindle standing up (a really good idea, as I’ll explain later), I can do a thigh twist to start the spindle (standing on one leg, even), I can kick start it when it’s near the floor, I can fix thick spots in the yarn and do a better join when I need to “edit” a thin spot, I can keep twist out of my draft zone by back-twisting with my right hand just a little bit, and I can ply out of my bra.

Yes, you read that right.

Turns out a good way to ply two or more strands is to wind them together onto a crumpled ball of paper, pop the resulting ball down your cleavage, and wield the drop spindle pulling the strands from between your buttons. If nothing else, this is certainly more eye-catching than my old method using the chopstick apertures in my two rice bowls.

And I’m darn proud of my 40 rows of garter stitch, because I achieved them by lever knitting. That means the technique for knitting that relies on one needle being fixed under your arm, in a belt or sheath, or wherever you can comfortably plant it and then bringing the knitting to the fixed needle tip rather than fishing after it. I’ve read about it — this is how the Shetland knitters made their beautiful jumpers on long, long double-pointed needles before circulars were invented — and now I know (in theory, at least) how to do it. It feels just as clumsy as whatever knitting method you use felt when you first tried it. Stephanie assured us we would all suck, and she was perfectly right. This tiny girl is clearly beating me around the block:

This photo is from the Shetland Museum Archives and is proof I will always reach for in the future if I need to argue that small children are capable of intellectual focus and remarkable dexterity… and of not poking their eyes out with tools. This tot’s grasping a set of needles that are longer than her legs, and she’s already knit half a sweater with them. Awesome.

Anyway, Stephanie challenged us to practice lever knitting just a little each day for 30 days. And since I can’t back down from a challenge, I vowed I’d lever knit a baby sweater in that time. Hence my 20+ ridges. Which I’m going to add to right now while I watch the men’s downhill. Next time I’ll tell you about my final Madrona class, Knitting Happily Ever After.

Axel fingerless mitts.pdf

Behold, quick-knitting fingerless mitts! I have named them in honor of recently retired cyclist Axel Merckx. They have three crossed cables on the back; the palm is in 2×2 rib like the cuff and finger covering. For extra warmth, you can wear them like this:

They’re a fast, stash-busting project — perfect for toasty hands this fall, whether you’re cycling, knitting, reading, or typing. Click the link beneath the first image to grab the free PDF.

Look, we’ve got plying!* Singularly terribly plying, admittedly. I don’t know what happened, but my scrawny little strings of overspun roving somehow morphed into these loose luxurious locks when I took them off the spindle. I don’t know how practical they are as yarn. But they’re sooooo soft, like fronds of mermaid hair. That’s what they felt like as I gently dunked them in a Eucalan bath to rid them of handpaintedyarn.com’s typical vinegar scent and all the grime I’m sure they picked up from my sweaty fingers during the last three weeks. Now they’re hanging in the shower and they look like Mingus might if I put him through the washing machine. (Not that it’s sounding like such a bad idea . . . he seems like he could do a with a quick cold cycle, doesn’t he?)

Poor little goober. He’s been in one variant or another of this position for days.

Anyway, it’s a good thing I took pictures of the handspun before I washed it.

As you can see, I was more successful with Axel. I had that spindle orbiting like Tom Cruise to make sure the ply was nice and snug. Of course, it helped that I achieved much greater consistency with the teal singles. And look, we’ve even got barberpole action! W00t!** The middle photo is the best of the Foxy handspun, and the difference is still marked. I’m really proud of Axel, and rather surprised that it issued from my own fingers. Spinning is cool! I can see why people cave in and buy wheels, though: spindling a pile of roving is like racing banana slugs (only less slimy and distasteful).

Tomorrow, on Weather-Appropriate Knits: Prairie camisole!

*This photo shows the technique I invented for plying. I’ve always been a fan of containing a ball of yarn in a bowl, especially if you have to draw from the outside of the ball, and that gave me the idea to use these handy Chinese bowls with chopstick holes in the sides to keep my two balls of singles orderly. In this shot, I’m down to one ball with no mate, so I just took the yarn end from the center and the one from the outside and plied them together. Worked like a charm. But is it a faux pas to do it that way? Technically it means I’m working against the direction of the fiber on one strand.

**I asked Mr. Garter to explain the origin of this weird exclamation after he insisted I spell it with zeros rather than o’s. He says it’s early computer game shorthand for “Wow! Loot!” which is somehow so endearing to me that I’ve decided to get on the w00t wagon.

But I finished that hank of roving (hank? What’s the term for a mass of roving? Cortex? Hairball? Cocoon? Dreadlock? Just plain lock? Yarn potentiality?), and now I’m on to the teal:

I thought this was merino, but it doesn’t seem to be the same fiber as the gingery stuff. It’s…hairier, if that makes any sense. Okay, both of them are composed entirely of hair, but the teal hair reminds me of my great-aunt Priscilla’s (hers was red and then white, never blue-green, but it stuck up and the light shone through it in photographs, so as a kid I always thought she looked like an angel) – there’s a sort of halo of fiber left around the single, rather than all the hairs smoothing neatly into yarn as the ginger merino did. I like it, though. I’m able to make it slightly bulkier, and it’s more even as a result. I’m pretty sure my teal yarn will not be overspun, except in a few little problem areas. The teal is not going to be finished by the end of the Tour, unfortunately. But I should at least have a second ball of single finished after tomorrow’s time trial, so that on Sunday’s victory lap around Paris we can have plying. I’m sort of shaking in my boots (or rather, in my Chaco sandals, because who wants to wear boots when it’s supposed to hit a record 102 degrees today?) about the plying, honestly. I’m worried I’ll do it too tightly or too loosely and make the yarn worse, not better. Oh well, it’s a learning process, right?

I’m pulling for Floyd Landis to ride a great time trial and win the Tour, by the way. His unbelievable solo performance yesterday to gain back six of the eight minutes he’d lost to his rivals proved his fighting spirit. And how can you root against a guy who wants to ride so badly that he doesn’t tell anyone he’s suffering the constant agony of a ruined hip that would keep most of us from even walking? Plus, I want his man Axel Merckx to have the pride of having ridden for the winner. It brought tears to my eyes to watch Axel, a noted non-climber, pouring his whole being into setting the pace for Floyd up the Alps when none of his teammates could hang on, dropping back out of the peloton, and then somehow clawing his way back up La Toussouire to spatula his shattered captain off the side of the road and drag him to the summit. There ought to be a Domestique Extraordinaire jersey for guys like Axel and Michael Boogerd who ride well beyond their own limits for their team leaders and rarely get any of the glory for themselves.

Just because he deserves it, I’m going to name my teal yarn after him. This will be the Axel yarn, and maybe I’ll make up a pattern for some Axel wrist warmers to knit with it. But not until the present spasm of global warming has eased. It’s too darn hot to knit wool. Which reminds me that I have yarn for that Frost Flowers pullover from last summer’s VK…hmmm…

These are, of course, the Conwy socks from Knitting on the Road. My mother and I have actually been to Conwy (I was thirteen, and thought scrambling all over the crumbling castle was about the best thing ever) and blue is her favorite color, so I thought these would be perfect for her. I knit them on US #0 circs, so I had to adapt the pattern somewhat. In hindsight, I probably would have been fine with #1’s. The socks are a pretty snug fit, even on my narrow feet. But I like the way the Lorna’s Laces stripes so beautifully on #0’s – #1’s make it flash, in my experience, and this sort of tabby effect pleases me much more.

I’ve also finished one of these:

Love, love this Pomatomus sock. I made one little error in the last chart repetition before the toe – I swear there’s something a little goofy in the instructions – but you can’t really tell, and it’s the part that will be in my shoe anyway. Again, this yarn is fabulous Claudia Handpainted in “Plumlicious”, worked on #2’s as the pattern directs. I didn’t get row gauge, so I shortened the heel flap to avoid knitting a full-on toga for my heel, and I sort of freestyled the toe decreases. Other than that, I’m working Pomatomus exactly as directed. Time to cast on its mate!

But first, back to the basement. My poor indentured parents shouldn’t slave alone, handknits or not.

One last peep before I go:

Tour de Fleece handspun, Part 1! I’ve made two spindles full like this. The folks at the local bike shop where I’m watching the Tour have probably never seen anyone spin and watch cycling at the same time. But they’re kind of digging it, I think. Our new neighbors manage the store and they’re awesome. Yay for awesome neighbors!

Pretty, no? This yummy merino roving is from handpaintedyarn.com, the good people whose creation of Malabrigo has already ensured them a place in the Heavenly Kingdom. I don’t think it’s carded quite as well as it could be – there are some gnarly little tiny rat’s nests that are hard to tease out, and some sections draft out beautifully while others want to snag or break apart. But I’m sure most of it is just my own inexperience, and over all I’m really enjoying it. I think I’m improving in terms of consistency, but I still hit frustrating sections where I can’t seem to spin evenly or the single keeps breaking. I’m pretty sure I’m still overspinning, but I don’t know how to solve this and also keep the yarn strong enough not to pull apart when I get to spindling a long length of it. How far down should I let the spindle dangle before I wind up the new yarn? I should probably find a class to take so I can figure out what the heck I ought to be doing, eh?

So far I’m 6 for 6 getting up to watch the Tour, although I did miss one day of spinning when I brought all the fiber over to the new place but ended up staying one more night with Mr. Garter’s parents. Don’t worry – I’ll spin on a rest day to make it up.

The 4th was our first in the new house. And it was quite a surprise. Our neighborhood looks pretty sleepy and demure, the kind of place where people spend more time gardening than hitting the bars, where children and chickens and cats hang out in the street and no one worries about them. But things get a little spicier for Independence Day: everyone was out in the road lighting off firecrackers, many of them quite a bit more impressive than you’re allowed to buy in Oregon. And our neighbor, a kind and placid-seeming mother of three, threw a raging party with big-league fireworks that shook our house until nearly midnight. Poor Mingus endured the explosions pretty bravely, but lost it when they broke out the screaming, crackling variety. The little guy thinks we’ve transferred him to the mouth of Hell. He likes the window seats, though.

Next up: I’ve got a finished Pomatomus sock to show you! And my mother’s finally coming to collect her birthday Conwys, so I’ve got to block and photograph them. I’ve been working and moving too hard these past few days to knit much, but I’m making progress on the Viennese Shrug. Only one sleeve to go.

Either way, it’s a sad day for cycling and I need a new guy to root for over the next 23 days. It’s hard to trust that any of them are riding clean, and I pity the winner who’ll always wonder if he had enough to beat Basso, Ullrich, and Vinokourov (who isn’t implicated in the scandal, but so many of his teammates were that there aren’t enough left to field a team for the Tour). His victory will be cheapened if the heavyweights are found to be innocent after all. I’m almost discouraged enough not to want to watch the Tour at all, but the question of who will rise to the top in this diminished field is pretty intriguing. I think Levi Leipheimer will be my man. He’s got great form this season, and he rides like a gentleman and a champion, whether he’s doing EPO and blood doping or not. And besides, I have a commitment to honor. I pledged to take part in a challenge thought to be free of any scandalous wrong-doing or performance-enhancing drug use:

Because I’m still very new at this spinning stuff, my challenge is just to spin every day. I’ve started a spindle of foxy orange merino roving, and I’m going to finish all that I have. I was also going to try to spin together some black, white, and red mystery roving that the Spiders gave me, to make CSC yarn in honor of Basso. Now that he’s out, I’m not sure my heart’s in it. Instead, I’m going to try to get through a ball of yummy teal merino. Pictures tomorrow, I promise.

I’m a lot less full of joy about the Tour de France than I was when I woke up this morning. It’s something I look forward to all year, so I’m very deflated. But hopefully the prospect of spinning practice can keep me excited to roll out of bed at 5:30 each morning, and I know new stars will emerge and the race will manage to be compelling in new ways. Spin clean, everybody.

It ain’t too pretty, but I made some yarn. This is Romney gifted to me by Marie, who also generously loaned me her spindle to get started. It was such fun using the drop spindle that I bought 200g of roving to practice on, and there just might be a field trip to The Yarn Tree in Brooklyn to acquire a spindle of my own in January! Worry not, ye knitters, this isn’t going to morph into a spinning blog. There’s too much knitting to be done. Like five more inches on Gansey Sleeve #1. Right. Back to it.

Delicious Fleece Artist sock yarn in the colorway “Jester” arrived on Saturday, kindly donated by the lovely Allison of the Simply Sock Yarn Co. for a Socktoberfest prize. Go visit her – she’s got some seriously great sock yarn, and she included a very nice hand-written note with the yarn. Norma mentioned the excellent personal attention many small yarn stores give, and SSYC is definitely among them! This yarn couldn’t be a more glorious autumnal range of colors. I’m extra glad to have it, as you can see the pathetic effort my tree has made thus far.

And then there’s this:

This is the Twisted Float cardigan by Annie Modesitt from Fall ‘05 Vogue. I began it in my class (we interrupt this message to let you now that it is doing lightning and thunder and rain outside right now. Thunderstorms in November? Huh?) with Annie at The Point on Friday night, and on Saturday I could hardly put it down. The construction makes it a totally fascinating project, and it’s as good a use of variegated yarn as I’ve seen. I’m making a child-size version and eliminating the boucle trim in favor of a simple picot edge. I love the yarn: Lorna’s Laces Shepherd Worsted in “Seaside” (and it really does make me nostalgic for the sea – these are the colors of my home) and the sea green remnants from Lisa’s beautiful clapotis.

And I did this:

Yep, that’s me with a drop spindle and some forebearing Romney! Marie very kindly loaned me her extra spindle and a little pile of roving to practice with, and then she showed me the ropes. The “yarn” I made is utter crap, of course. But I’m learning, by golly! Soon I’ll get the hang of it…not that I have time for another addiction, especially with Christmas looming so menacingly and so much gansey left to knit.

We’ll end with a gratuitous cat picture, just because. It’s knitting related, though: we’re reading our new copy of Nancy Bush’s Knitting Vintage Socks. Ah, happiness.