Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Sweater weather

No one who lives in New England will be surprised to hear that it was 12 degrees when I got my son off to the bus stop this morning (that's minus 11 Celsius). While spring sewing has been happening, it's hard to get in the mood to put it on display. I did a little photo shoot yesterday of a sleeveless top from the Shape Shape book, in a Liberty print no less, but I look so pallid, goose-bumpy, and tight-shouldered in the photos that I can't bring myself to post them. Not to mention cranky and petulant.

I have an idea! I'll take this opportunity to look back at some of my knitting, in the hope that this will remind me why I like living in a place that has real winters. My dear grandmother taught me how to knit when I was quite young. We alternated these lessons with exercising in front of the TV along with Jack LaLanne.

The knitting didn't take right away, but decades later I felt the urge to get back to it and I've enjoyed it sporadically ever since. (It's pretty much the same story for exercising, come to think of it!)

Here's a complete success of a sweater that I knit for my son in 2010. It's in Rowan Lima, the softest yarn ever. Of course the son kept growing, so we need someone to hand this down to.

When I sew for myself, I gravitate toward blue, black, and gray, but apparently that is not true of my knitting:

There's a fourth purple one, but I think this makes the point. What does it mean? Why would I be more adventurous with color when knitting than when sewing, even though everything takes me ten times as long to make? Will have to ponder this . . .

The sweater that took me the longest to knit is my husband's Seahorse, from the book Rowan Denim by Kim Hargreaves. Yikes, this would have taken forever even if I hadn't messed up the pattern and had to reknit most of the back.

Though I'm far more interested in sewing these days, I do enjoy knitting, and I have a glorious yarn stash to work through. And I just know that if I turn my attention to a knitting project right about now, the general perversity of the universe will make spring come along posthaste. So I'm going to do it! For anyone who wants to see more, my Ravelry name is pittypat; new friends are of course welcome.