The Spinner’s Book of Yarn Designs: Techniques for Creating 80 Yarns is the book I wish I’d had when I started spinning. Let me say right up front it’s not specifically a beginners book, per se, but it IS inspirational—and I think that’s awfully important when you first start out. If you paired this with a true “how to” book I think any new spinner would have plenty to work with.
Sarah Anderson did an amazing job in this book on a number of points:
the photos are great
the sections are color-coded on the page edges so you can navigate quickly and easily
the writing is friendly and funny (you can absolutely hear her voice)
she includes pictures of work done by her family (and Lordy, what a talented lot they are!)
she isn’t biased (she spindles, she spins on a wheel, she knits, she crochets)
she includes scale photos of her yarns, close enough to see the fibres and angles of the twist
she explains S- and Z- better and more clearly than anything else I’ve seen
she has these nifty little removable cards at the end.
She also has a genius section on socks. This would have sold me even if the rest was lousy (which it is not). She brings up the rumor (which I’d heard too) that chain-plyed yarn wears unevenly and causes holes to form more quickly in socks. So she tested it. I won’t tell you the genius thing she came up with to protect heels a bit more (you’ll have to check out the book, heh heh heh) but I can promise you this—that tidbit isn’t the only useful thing you’ll get out of the book.
It’s been published by Storey and is available from Amazon.
And if you want to test your luck, my copy of The Spinner’s Book of Yarn Designs will be given away to a lucky CraftLit listener. To put yourself into the running, visit the February 2013 shownotes for CraftLit and leave a comment about why you would like the book. I’ll use a random number generator to select the winner. (Be sure your email is entered correctly!)
We’re finally close enough to the release of What(else)Would Madame Defarge Knit?
that I can start to tell you about some of the goodies you’ll find inside.
Like over 250 pages!
Color Photos!
Over 25 rockin’ patterns!
(Did I mention color pictures?)
Returning Defarge vol. 1 designers!
Big Fun! No Whammies!
One of the patterns (it was all I had time for) is from me—
and this is one of those happy things where, as I designed it,
I kept getting more and more excited.
Yaaayyyy!
::embed crazy muppet wave!::
Here’s what I can tell you:
it’s a sock;
it’s based on a male character;
the character is from a book we’ve done on CraftLit;
How can you be sure to know when the book is out? How will know you know when FREE PATTERNS and GOODIES are being given away?
By entering your email below, that’s how! We have all sorts of fun planned for you!
And if you’re already all in, you can pre-order the book now(doesn’t mean you can’t also sign up for the mailing list for free goodies. Just means you’ll be sure to get the book the second it’s out).
I’ll be chatting this up more on the next CraftLit, but OH MY GOODNESS is there a lot of really nifty niftiness in this next issue!
Allow me to preempt a bit:
Guernsey
mitts
boys
podcasts
socks
and more More MORE!
If you haven’t taken a gander, please do. For one thing you’ll get quality information and patterns that you won’t see elsewhere. For another thing you can walk around and be proud of yoruself because you’re supporting indie designers and publishers (who found ways to print in the USA which no one else seems to do…). I’ll even let you be a little smug and pretentious about it because, seriously, how often do knitters get to do that, I ask you?
So yes, quality writing, information, patterns, OH and a podcast article by Yours Truly (which is fine and all, but not as cool as the Guernsey article/pattern, IMHO).
My younger son has found himself enamored of Shakespeare (Midsummer is a fave, followed closely by Branaugh’s Henry V). A high point of his ninth birthday was meeting Ehren Ziegler of ChopBard podcast during the Birthday Weekend Trip To NYC Blowout.
But last week he woke up, looked out the window at the fresh (surprise!) snow and said, “It makes me feel all Shakespeare-y.”
Well what else is a former English teacher to do?
I showed him the format for a Shakespearean sonnet, demonstrated iambic pentameter for him with a few lines from plays he knew, then let him at it.
The result is this:
Snow to Spring
Silent, the white specks fall upon our earth.
The trees are covered with their clumps of snow.
As the world wakes unto its frozen birth,
It is a joyful scene, but nothing grows.
The snow melts through the wet and soggy ground.
The joy disperses as snow goes away.
But yet, a tiny memory is found
Which flies around the skies and saves the day.
As plants pop up from wet and saddened dirt,
They bloom and blossom ’til they shine like sun.
And tho’ the journey comes with pain and hurt,
With Spring we find the battle lost and won.
I say this: from the snow that came today
It brings a sorrow price that we must pay.
He only asked for help on two lines (bonus points if you can guess which two).
Yes, I do think Colm Wilkinson is the yardstick by which every Jean Valjean should be measured.
I’ve only just started reading the book (I’m up to where Valjean is running to get young Cosette–that would be about 70,000 pages in).
I majored in theatre. I love theatre. I love theatre tricks. I love theatricality. I even and occasionally like Opera.
I have pneumonia right now. I’m pretty much bed-ridden but thought not moving for three hours at
a movie house wouldn’t be much different from not moving in bed for three hours. It made me smile watching Fantine sound more than a little like me–also made me smile b/c I’m reading the Brontë Biographical Tome of the Century, so coughs are in my heart and soul right now.
All of that will likely color my review.
Forgive me.
* * *
Spoilers are to be expected. I’m writing this under the assumption that you know either (a) the show, (b) the plot, (c) the music, or (d) all of the above. Skip this if you aren’t in those categories as I’ll probably blow something for you.
* * *
I’ve seen some reviews absolutely trashing the film. They were written by folks who didn’t like the theater show. Why in the world you’d have someone review the film who hated the show is beyond me. Ignore the haters. It’s just silly writing tricks.
* * *
So. I loved the show in 1987. I thought the theater tricks—the turntable, the bridge, the clever use of lighting—made the show rise above just-another-musical. I also love the music. I like the themes. I like the passion. It probably helped that I was 20 with all that implies.
Now, in my 40s I appreciate Hugo’s text. His descriptions—which are carried over into the show and film admirably—are lovely and generous and genius. This is particularly true when dealing with difficult characters like Javert.
But enough evasion, here’s what I think:
If you never saw the theater show but you like musicals you will very likely love this film.
Hugh Jackman—amazing work, but not Colm Wilkinson (who did a lovely surprise turn as the Bishop, God bless him).
Anne Hathaway—better than I’d hoped for, even after the hype. Helluva hard part. If you read the book you’ll see a lot of subtext come to bear on her interpretation and her singing. Hugo is there, though her story is quite a bit more upsetting to me in the book (which is saying something as her treatment in the show is quite upsetting).
Russell Crowe—I felt so bad for him. I know even he said he was intimidated and I couldn’t figure out why. Now I get it. The man has a LOVELY voice, make no mistake, but his is not a musical theater voice. If that makes no sense to you, I think it will when you see the film. He’s lovely, really, he is, but the relentless baritone bulldog I recall from the theater show was not in the film. That brutality—which Crowe is totally capable of in acting—makes Javert’s end so so so sad. But it has to be present in the music and the singing to work. And it wasn’t. A lovely and wonderfully acted Javert, but the singing wasn’t up to the rest of the cast.
The Thénardier’s—huge disappointment for me. The “Master of the House” on the London Cast album is a high point. All the subtle (and not so subtle) humor and characterization that has to be carried through this song was lost in the film. I’m not sure if it was a lack of direction, acting, singing ability, or music direction, but I felt let down. I’m quite confident I’ll be alone on that one b/c there wasn’t anything “wrong” with Sacha Baron Cohen or Helena Bonham Carter per se (they’re both “fine”) it’s that in comparison with top-notch signing/acting there was a lot missing.
The lovers—I feel so bad for Marius and Cosette (grown up). This is the Sidney Carton/Charles Darnay/Lucy Manette problem, the “Someday My Prince Will Come” warbling-ingenue-unforgivably-difficult-part problem—how in the world can Cosette beat out Eponine (who was lovely). In our current world there really isn’t much room for a Cosette. There was. There isn’t now. All that aside, Eddie Redmayne (whose red mane was toned down a bit) and Amanda Seyfried sang better than I had expected and did all that could be done with extreme close-ups and the parts they had to play. They were inoffensive, how’s that?
Gavroche and the Revolutionaries—I appreciated the clear and focused history lessons we got at the start of the “acts”. Americans don’t know much of this history (she types pointing at herself) and the little nuggets we got did a great job of placing these guys in time and intention. The French Revolution gets all the press, but those years past the Big Rev were fraught, too, and a lot of idealistic scholars got caught in the crossfire… quite literally.
This part (Gavroche/Javert with Gavroche) was also the only part to make my men tear up. Me? I choked up a bunch, but then, I have pneumonia. Everything makes me weak.
Final thought: if you think you want to see it, do.
If you hate musicals, stay away (it’s really an opera).
If you loved the stage show, enjoy the long shots, but keep the London Cast Album close to your heart.
(p.s., Thing 2 adds—the movie was amazing, awesome, and so, so emotional! And yes, I took him out to the bathroom during the “Lovely Ladies” scene.)
Well, I’m not releasing a new podcast—though I’m prepping Jane Eyre RIGHT NOW—so instead I’m releassing a new pattern!
My husband recently sent me links to the three videos I’ve loaded below. He said “for the boys” in his email but, seriously, how could I not attack these? I did a quick “knitted flexagon” web search and found that no one had yet made a pattern for this (though you can find oh-so-cool pillows and kaleidocycles video and pattern) so I made my own!
October 21st is the birthday of the instigator behind the craze (Martin Gardner) so knit up a passel (while listening to Flatland) and spread the word of his genius (and the genius of a number of other quite-bright kids).
These can be knit with any yarn, at any gauge, with any needles (that fit your yarn). As long as you have a neutral and three other colors, you’re golden. Photo-instructions for sewing and folding and provided.
Well, we’ve turned the corner on the decade marking September 11, 2001. Eleven years out, now, but who’s counting?
Over the years I’ve written many different 9/11 posts starting with our experience long before there were blogs. I also wrote about it irregularly here, on or around 9/11 anniversaries.
I’m in such a different place now than I was back then. I have two boys now, and the one who was a year old during The Event is now 12 and in middle school. He knows where I was and what happened. He’s starting to get interested in politics and the world. My younger boy sort of knows what happened, mostly from the book, The Man Who Walked Between The Towers (which I love), and by that I mean he knows there were big buildings that aren’t there any more and that the book makes mom choke up.
I suppose the best thing that can be said about hitting eleven years out is that this election cycle is mercifully free of Nine-Eleven-as-wedge-issue ads. It’s a mercy and one I’m grateful for. Nothing sickened me more over the years than watching those ads, that kind of grandstanding.
No, this year—aside from Thing 2’s meltdown over hidden math homework that I caught before we walked out the door—was a quiet, cool, calm morning (not terribly unlike eleven years ago). So calm that, had I not had to write a check for my kid’s school and thus had to write the date, I wouldn’t have noticed. One of the benefits of working from home rather than teaching in a classroom—I don’t have to write the date on the board anymore.
(see upper right corner—that’s my chalkboard, picture taken on my first visit back, 10/24/01)
This year there are no bells tolling and no reading of names playing in the background as I type. Nowadays “bells tolling” makes me think of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell: A Novel (thank you Ehren and Shannon) rather than lists of the fallen. I don’t think this is a bad thing, but it’s a weird one. This year I turned 45. It surprised to me how much this age bugged me, too. I’m not one who spends a lot of time sitting around bemoaning my grey hair or my no-longer-18-year-old body (though it’d be great to finally drop the eight-year-old baby weight). So it was a shocker when 45 suddenly seemed like the Call of Mortality.
But it did.
And 9/11 brings it home, too.
I was only 34 when It happened. Depending on where you are on the cosmic timeline that’s either horrifyingly old or shockingly young to be responsible for running with a bunch of students away from a terrorist attack. In my current eyes, it’s scary young. I know so much more now than I did then. I have much better perspective on life (not just on running from falling buildings). But I suppose that’s the way, isn’t it? I know there’s the old joke, “youth is wasted on the young,” and now I get it. (And I know some of you who are older than I are laughing at me for writing that. Enjoy.)
But it’s the truth.
All the things I might not ever be able to do—now that I’m starting what is likely to be the second half of my life—have been popping into my brain. Constantly. I can see that the world will go on after I’m gone, which is great, but if anything has defined me it’s my curiosity. It’s that I want to know. Pretty much everything. I love seeing connections. I love making connections. I love learning. I told Erica last night that right now, as I make final preparations to teach for the Hand Knitters Guild of North Central Texas and for the Dallas Handknitters Guild at the Knitting Fairy this weekend, I am currently in Shark Mode—if I stop moving I’ll die. I have so much to do, so much neat stuff to put together, so many new teaching ideas to try—and I don’t want to die.
I know, I know; no one does.
But for me, this doesn’t translate into some Fetish-of-Youth complete with Botox and 17 age-eliminating pills every morning. I’m not planning on sucking the health care industry dry trying to prolong my life long after Life has told me It Has Done With Me. I just want to make sure that I use the time I have left to learn as much as I can and to pass that on to other curious people. Thus the podcast (and the other one), and the books, and the patterns, and the (someday-please-God) novel (currently heading back to agents). Yeah, it’s a sad little shot at immortality, but it’s what I have. On a good day I feel pretty solid about it all, too.
So on days like today, as I walk back from my son’s bus stop and put letters in the mailbox and sip a coffee, I wonder what is it that drives me to do all of these things. Would I be like this if some guys hadn’t tried to drop a building on me eleven years ago? Does getting out when so many others died make me that much more intent on using my time to the fullest? Would I otherwise have been content to measure out my days by counting the numbers of students I saw filing through my classroom? Would I have ever podcasted or written or designed?
I don’t know.
What I do know is this: time will get me in the end, and if I was lucky enough to make it out of many earthquakes in SoCal, a car accident in high school, the Rodney King riots, and 9/11, then I sure as hell won’t be taking what time I have for granted. It’s a gift. Every day is a gift. Even the lousy days are better than no days at all. To me, the worst thing would be to reach the end and see behind me a wasteland of lost opportunities. Maybe I’m trying to live my life as a memorial, not just to those who fell, but for those who lived. Maybe the crazy things I push myself to do are really a desperate attempt to feel better about making it out when others didn’t.
Maybe.
Or maybe it’s my crazy DNA that pushed my ancestors from England and Germany to The New World, then kept pushing us west to California (which, as my husband likes to say, proves we’re nuts. Who would look at the Rockies from their covered wagon and say, “hmm. Eh. Not so big. Let’s keep going!”). Now that there’s no more land to push through am I just pushing through time?
Dunno.
But I’d hate to get to the other side of the Veil and be met with nothing but visions of what I couldhave done, smiles I could have smiled, kindnesses I could have offered, kids who could have been hugged. I’m finding more and better ways to balance kids, family, and my work. I’m still learning. I’m still living. And I’m still hoping that when I get to the other side, what I see behind me is a feel-good comedy rather than a Bergman opus.*
I’d rather look back on a life of fullness after 9/11 than a life like the emptiness I felt in 2001.
In the winter, my feet are always cold. Until they aren’t any more and I want to take my socks off, but if I do my feet get cold.
You’re sensing the problem, no?
And in the winter, do I get pedicures?
No I do not.
It’s not for a lack of vanity—it’s how cold my feet get after they come out of the water!
At MDSW I saw this gorgeous yarn and it absolutely SCREAMED Holly Golightly to me. I actually may have squealed a little bit… but I’m not sure.
Regardless, I started looking at stitch patterns that made me think of New York circa the Breakfast at Tiffany’s movie (not the book, though I loved the book) and found one that reminded me of the old Lollipop building at Columbus Circle (not the new one–ew). Add that to the hot-cold-foot-problem and…
My solution! The Holly Golightly flip-top socks knit in the AMAZING yarn from Dragonfly Fibers (Super Djinni, how do I love thee?)
This is the companion book to the How to Knit Socks (which is top-down). As soon as I finish the toe-up-with-flap book I’ll put them together in a bundle too.
In 2009, I taught at the first Sock Summit. In my class I covered how to knit the heels listed below in any gauge, yarn weight, or needle size. Students left with sample heels, worksheets for future use, and a clear understanding of which heel fit them best. Below are links to eBooks which teach you each heel.
I’m now teaching the same class (with more heels!) online (see links in left sidebar).
Chances are you’ve knit at least one of the heels in these books in some pattern somewhere. When you click on a heel link below you will be taken to a page that includes a photo of the heel and some description. That way you can purchase only the heel instructions that are unfamiliar to you, giving you the chance to find your perfect heel! If you are so inclined, there is also a book that compiles all of the heels together in one book—coming soon!
Each eBook has detailed instructions from heel flap to the end of the gusset. There is also a “speed sheet†at the end of each eBook which is a worksheet you can print out, thus giving you all you need to substitute your perfect heel into any sock you knit.
As with all of my other eBooks, links are live to take you to tutorials or helpful sites. If you have any questions or problems, don’t hesitate to contact me.
Dutch Heel eBook
$2.50
This generic heel generally fits any foot.
German Heel eBook
$2.50
The extra garter stitch edge to the heel flap helps eliminate saggy gussets and provides a snug fit.
French Heel eBook
$2.50
This rounded heel is perfect for those who are sensitive to tags, snags and lumps.
Welsh Heel eBook
$2.50
This is a very hard-wearing heel that leads the knitter on quite the adventure along the way.
This sock came to me all at once one night about 22 days before the Hunger Games movie was released. I remember sitting there, turning to my husband and saying, “Holy Cow! I have to make a Hunger Games Sock Pattern!”
He looked at me patiently and said, “Okaaaaayyyy..”
I think he’s used to this sort of thing from me.
I knew exactly what I wanted: über cushy replaceable sole, toe-up construction, instep seamed to sides for lacy-breathability as well as functionality, arrowhead lace, three-strand cables down the sides, and a secret pocket to stash your throwing knfe.
Or house keys.
I’m really proud of these suckers and enjoy wearing mine with heavier-than-you’d-expect-for-handknit-socks shoes and boots. I imagine I’ll get some use out of these this winter when we’re supposed to have a “real” winter (unlike the long Fall/Spring we had this year). I hope you like them too. You can add to cart the *extremely comfy socks for $6US.
Cheddar
I love this little guy. Like everyone I come across, I love amigurumi—a lot. But I felt like the Creepy Cute Crochet
had the corner on the market for detailed instructions and cute awesomeness, so I stuck to knitting for my critter.
I also had been thinking for a long time that CraftLit needed a mascot—(Cheddar will be coming with me to Dallas, I think)—but I didn’t want to make the pattern pricey since I know not everyone who listens to CraftLit is loaded. I priced the smaller Wensleydale similarly for the same reason.
I hate seaming so I worked hard to create a little fellah that didn’t need any seaming. I’ve since learned that some folks prefer to make their ears and arms and tails separately and actually LIKE sewing the bits and bobs on. I think Penny on Ravelry has made some alternate instructions if you’re more the latter than the former. There are some really cute variations listed over at Ravelry.
I love that. And you might too if you add to cart your own Cheddar pattern for $3US.
Ruff
This article of clothing, especially for Cheddar, is free for you to download now and can be seen in the picture above.
Wensleydale
I love this little guy!
Cheddar needed a buddy, so I made him one. Knit in a tube—with a similar start to Cheddar—his increases create a flat-ish base and a nicely curved top.
A link is provided to an Etsy store where you can get the fabulous litle safety eyes (thank you, Penny!) which I think really help “make” this buddy.
MamaO is Heather Ordover, author, designer, mother and knitter... not necessarily in that order. You can get posts from this blog sent directly to your inbox by signing up below, Follow her on Twitter and Like her on Facebook if you're feeling friendly-like. Follow @MamaO