Plum Incunabula Cardigan

Some years ago, I backed Karie Westermann's kickstarter to write a book of knitting patterns inspired by the evolution of book-making in Europe. If this sounds a bit niche, well, the concept may be but the resulting designs in This Thing of Paper have a broad appeal and classic sensibility that I associate with Ms Westermann's designs. Longtime readers already be aware that I knit a lot of designs by Karie Westermann, her name featuring heavily in my roundup of 2015 projects with links to some individual pattern write-ups. Ah, the days when I blogged a lot.

The Incunabula Cardigan went straight to the top of my queue but it took me a while to find the right yarn - and in the end I bought the recomended yarn, Blacker Classic DK, when it was discontinued last summer, in the colour "Plum", getting a SQ (sweater quantity) for less than £50 including shipping in a workhorse yarn that I knew would last. I used to be a big fan of Blacker Yarns but their management hurt someone I considered a friend and I went off them. But in a time when dyers are facing yarn shortages because the knock-on effect of lockdown overseas and british shepherds are burning or burying their fleeces because there's no domestic market, any local breeds of sheep is probably worth supporting. That said, my main problem with Blacker Yarns has always been that their colour pallet is usually muted in a way that doesn't work for me. "Plum" is...not an exception? It's on the border of colours that I like/look good in, a touch more rust than I would prefer. I can wear it, it doesn't make me look ill, but it doesn't make my skin glow the way blue-based jewel tones can. But the reduced price and knowing exactly how much to buy based on the pattern made it a sensible choice for an admittedly Autumn cardigan.

I knit it as written, after getting gauge on smaller needles, though I knit both sleeves before ading the cuffs as I was considering changing the length. It's just as well I did as I wound up with two different length sleeves, neither of which was the length suggested by the pattern. Oops. I mostly knit things as written, but clearly my written comprehension is, uh, variable, because this was not a unique occurance in my knitting journey. I liked the length of the shorter sleeve as a finished measurement so I ripped it back a few inches and knit the cuff, then ripped the other sleeve to the same point, knit the cuff, cut the buttons off my Red Rosemorran cardigan that I knit back in 2014. They were too heavy for the silk-blend lace cardigan and the buttonholes stretched out so they wouldn't stay in the holes, but they're perfect for my Incunabula.

After a glorious spring of gentle warm sunshine, our summer has been a dreich disapointment, rainy and overcast, not really warm but not cool and too humid for layers. Meh. There's a reason I list giving up on Summer as a reason Autumn is my favourite season. (Spoiler: they're all my favourite season if they actually happen, but Autumn is a nice, reliable season. The nights are going to draw in, the temperatures are going to drop, the leaves are going to fall.) And I am going to enjoy wearing my Incunabula as I crunch through the leaves with my little pumpkins.

Two Years of Jennifer Knatters on YouTube

I know I have cruelly abandoned my blog, but I haven't abandoned nattering on about my knitting and my life. Lacking the time to write something out (on a tablet without a physical keyboard), I started a video podcast. No, not a vlog, in crafty circles a vlog is when you film yourself going about your day to day life. A podcast is when you sit down and talk to yourself (or a friend), whether that's audio only or video. A podcast.

I started out weekly, Almost two full years ago, but then K2 stopped taking naps, I had to record at night after she went to bed - assuming she fell asleep before me and it wasn't too dark and I wasn't too tired and I didn't have a terrible cold. I'm sure you're drawing your own conclusions about how frequently that worked out to be. But with K2 now in nursery, my goal is to manage fortnightly.

"If All the World Were Jumpers" is from almost three weeks ago as two weeks ago I didn't have enough to talk about and one week ago I was too busy. In it I talk about two of the jumpers I finished over the summer, "Silver Blossom" by Amy Gunderson, a cotlin dk tee; and "Incunabula" by Karie Westermann, a faux cable cropped caredi in the discontinued Blacker Classic DK. I was also close to finishing my test knit boxy cable pullover, AbbeyHill by Ysolda Teague in the also discontinued Ripples Crafts Cochrane. Those, plus socks, and a mitered square blanket round out the previous fortnight of knitting, and hopefully all of those projects will get their own blog posts soon.

But if you want to catch up a bit, please check out my podcast and, you know, like and subscribe if you're into that sort of thing. Ta!

Hello, Old Friend

Hello, blog, it has been a long time! My last post was around the time my youngest, K2, started walking so I'm going to guess that chasing two small children around was what killed blogging for me. K2 is 3.5yo and started nursery three weeks ago; K1, 7.5yo, is in P3 so I finally have a little free time for things like blogging. And sewing. I bought a bunch of fabric and some patterns from The Wee Fabric Shop which had recently opened in Inverness and that was the week K2, then two, stopped taking naps. She's not the kind of toddler one can sew around.

This is, of course, The Time of CoronaVirus, The (first) Year of Global Pandemic, and a time when everyone should stay home, wash their hands, and wear a damn mask. Yes, there will be swearing as the situation warrants. Here in Scotland, our cases were very low, between 1-4 confirmed new cases a day over the summer, so they opened the country up a little, people started playing tourist (especially people from England - Dear People from England, we love and miss you and want you to stay the fuck home) and now our daily new cases are in the high double and low triple digits. This is not okay. Stay home. I know it's boring, I share the desire to feel "normal" again, for the rush of happiness that comes from novel situations. Coronavirus is novel. Avoid novel. Stay home, read novels, watch telly, and, if you're lucky enough to enjoy it, knit. If you have to go out, if there's something important enough that you must risk someone else' life, wear a mask.

That said, I am comfortable with my children attending in-person school. Inverness has, through all of this, remained lightly touched. We are more of a way-station than a destination for travel and the virus hasn't yet had a "cluster" in the highlands. I expect that by the time there is a vaccine (if there ever is one?), that will no longer be true. But, for now, we are mostly safe and both of our children have seen more happy since starting school three weeks ago. They never seemed unhappy in the lockdown, though everyone had moments of unhappiness, frustration, and anxiety, but since returning/starting school they've seemed more cheerful in general.

This is also a time of political upheaval. It is possible that all times are and that I'm only just now world-aware enough to comprehend, but I suspect this will be regarded as a pivotal time in history, should we go on to have a decent record of history. That sounds dramatic, doesn't it? As a parent, looking towards the future, I feel more fear than optimism. I don't regret having children and I wouldn't go back and warn myself against doing so, but I worry that their lives will not be as safe and as easy as mine has been. I worry that they will not want to bring children into the world they see before them. I am from California and...it is on fire, literally and figuratively. I love California with the strength of my identity and I would never move back. Unprecedented droughts, unprecedented fires, and the looming spectre of unprecedented earthquakes and floods? How did I grow up in California and not know that one of our Sword of Damoclese disasters is floods? See? Ten years after I left, California is still "we".

But Scotland is my heart now, my home, my future, and my source of hope. Nicola Sturgeon is a leader I can believe in, a person of principle who values all lives, welcomes all comers, and sees the shadows of consequence cast by the actions of today. By luck, I think Scotland is well situated to survive and possibly even thrive for a while under climate change. And I see around me the will for an Independant Scotland to have the progressive politics that reflect my own values.

Because politics are the outward expression of values, I want to take the time in this, my first post in almost two years, to state unequivically that nazis are not welcome here. Black lives matter, and I apologise for my thoughts and actions that have helped prop up systemic racism and give cover to overt racism. I am trying to be better, I am trying to do better. Trans rights are human rights. Our trans siblings are the most vulnerable among us, and "feminism" that seeks to cast out and other trans people is not feminism. Immigration improves communities. Seeking assylum is not a crime. Fat-phobia is bigotry and hurts everyone. Trump cannot be separated from his policies of hate and and venial, grasping determination to wring every bloody penny he can from America and the world. If you support Trump for any reason, you support him in every action, and you are not welcome here.

Thank you, for your attention. My regularly scheduled naval-gazing life and hobbies blog will resume next time.