The More Things Change

Remember 2010? Me either. Research on my blog reveals that I made two Weasley Sweaters for my children that year, and they were well-loved:

In 2010, Lindsay was 11, which is the perfect age for a Weasley Sweater. The Huff Weasleys were worn, and loved, and outgrown, which is the natural order of things. They're now in a box out in the garage, awaiting the day when I can bear to let them go to some great reward.

But leap forward a mere seven years, and Lindsay is on the brink of her 18th birthday. I know. I didn't authorize it, but it turns out that my children are getting older, rather than just bigger. Unbelievably, last month, Lindsay asked me for a new Weasley sweater. 

My children are now at ages where if they actually ask me for knitting, I pretty much lose my mind. It's been so long since I saw them wear and enjoy my knitting that I've just about given up on them as worthy recipients. But Lindsay can always surprise and amaze me. She's getting ready to leave home for college next year. She drives. All by herself. She can knit and spin really well. She has a steady boyfriend. Does all the very grownup things a nearly-eighteen year old should. But she wants a new Weasley sweater. Says she was too young to appreciate her old one when she had it.

She didn't have to ask me twice:

The new Weasley has an actual Intarsia initial, and was worked from the top-down, to Lindsay's exact specifications. Unbelievably, I realized that I have never worked intarsia in the round before. I didn't love doing it, but it did allow me to place the monogram with surgical precision.

While I was at it, I worked a top-down set-in sleeve. Thanks, JC Briar! CLICK HERE for her class. This one isn't a full-on set in; it's more of a hybrid "peasant": not quite as fitted as a set-in, but more tailored than a drop-shoulder. The fit is gorgeous: relaxed, but not sloppy or droopy. And there's none of that bulky fabric under the armpits that comes with a drop shoulder.

I just picked up around the armhole, the number of stitches that would comfortably fit into it (about 3 out of 4), then worked 5-stitch short rows from the cap all the way to the armpit. So easy, and so pretty! You should definitely try this on your next relaxed-sleeve project.

I also added 4-stitch increases to the body every 20 rows. It's actually an A-line, but doesn't look like one when worn. Instead, it just accommodates Lindsay's grownup figure more perfectly than a straight body tube would.

The yarn is Patons Classic in Chestnut Tweed. You can get it pretty much anywhere, and almost always on sale. For the monogram I used Knit Picks Wool of the Andes Tweed in Brass Heather

My sister and her kids visited last weekend. These four cousins have always been thick as thieves, so I should not have been surprised when Sarah and Adam (aged 20 and 17) requested Weasleys of their own. Campbell, naturally, added his name to the list, too. So now it looks like I'll be up to my eyes in Weasleys for a awhile if I'm to satisfy the demand.

The only real question is: How could I say no? They're only little for such a short time, after all.


Delusional, As Usual

So there I was in the yarn store, because, you know, Tuesday. And I'm asking the nice lady, is there any hand dyed sportweight superwash in a soft gray for my brother-in-law's Christmas present. Sure, she says, right over here, etc etc and what are you making?

Oh, do you know the DeathFlake chart from Ravelry? Yes, she does. Well I'm making a hat for my BIL, who, though knitworthy, has somehow never received knitting from me.

I love, she says, that you are starting a stranded colorwork project four days before Christmas.

Sound of needle skipping off record.

Four days? I say.


Turns out there's this whole time limit notion around Christmas Knitting. 

Now I've knit on deadlines, like, A LOT. It seems like that experience would have informed my gift-giving decision regarding my BIL. But no. It did not. I literally did not consider, even briefly, the time available between my clever idea to knit a hat, and the day on which said hat would be required.

Nor did I consider, not even for a minute, that my Brother In Law, though very much a decent sort, is a non-knitter. A non-knitter for whom the presentation of a box of unknit yarn and a heartfelt promise would be confusing and bewildering.

So, intrusions of reality notwithstanding, I'm knitting it. What care I for the laws of time and space? Since when is a knitter of my calibre (*snort*) governed by the petty idiosyncrasies of the static universe?

Yeah, I know: Good Luck with that.

Like any cunning plan that begins with the phrase "Oh, I'll Just...", Operation Dread Pirate Jeffery has commenced, hand dyed gray yarn and all:

Ain't it swell? Dig that sexy Malabrigo Arryo in "VAA" in the background! And the gray one is Black Trillium "Little Mouse". These yarns are very friendly to each other, and to stranded colorwork, which is kind of unusual for superwash, but I'm not telling the yarn that. I'm loving this knit so much I kinda don't care how long it takes. I'm just gonna sit here under the Christmas tree, defiantly knitting, and denying completely that time is running out.

Watch this space.

FLAK Finale!

Another non-digital thing I did last week was actually knitting: I finished my FLAK!  I still cannot get over how much yarn is in cables. 23 skeins is just ridiculous. And look how huge it was before the side seams:


I had to stand on the bed to get far enough away from it to take the photo. It's actually too big to fit on my blocking board (4' square!). So you know what? I didn't block it! Craziest thing in the world: I just couldn't find a reason to do anything to it, other than sew it up. The knitted fabric is exactly how I want it. I guess all that swatching at the beginning paid off.


Heart-shaped cables, baby. Oh, yeah.

Ta-Daa! Not that this photo shows it, but it fits me perfectly. Our friend Ms. Szabo knows her way around a cabled sweater; that's for sure. Her instructions for measuring are spot-on. Writing directions for other knitters to make their sweaters actually fit is just about the hardest thing in knitting, and Janet really gets it right.


One of these days I'll grab a kid and make them photograph the sweater actually on me. Or I'll snap a shot of it on Lindsay, who keeps swiping it when I'm not looking. Not that I blame her; I wish I could describe how cuddly and soft and altogether smooshy it is.

So now I need your input, Gentle Readers. Several of you have asked me to sell the cable charts that I designed for this, which I'm only too happy to do. But I don't think I should write a traditional knitting pattern for it, since the construction and math are really Janet Szabo's and can be had so easily by purchasing her workbook. What do you think; Can I sell just the charts, or might it be confusing if somebody thought they were getting the actual pattern for my sweater? Kindly drop a comment on what you think I should do.