I am not putting this babycables vintage cardigan down! As soon as I could start knitting last night, I cast on for the first front. I adore the little cable detail along the button band. And there's also some very subtle waist shaping that you might be able to spy on the side.

The yarn I have for the fronts is a different dyelot and is looking a bit darker than the first two skeins I had. Or less red. Or something. I'm not convinced that it's too different, but I'm not entirely convinced that it's okay either. Seriously, does anyone have a couple of skeins of Lavold Silky Wool in color #24 (maybe even dyelot #370) that they could part with? I'm still knitting, but I'd reknit for the right dyelot. (What we knitters wouln't do for the right dyelot, eh?)

I'm halfway through my block of the month rehab. My 2007 block of the month quilt was admitted to rehab last month because of a growing and worrying addiction to yucky greens and ugly prints. Together we've been working on finding substitutes for these illicit substances. And I'm pleased to say that the quilt is making progress.

the "Spools" block before

the "Spools" block after

the "Kansas Star" block before

the "Kansas Star" block after

I've replaced the offending green prints in these two blocks with a fabulous Martha Negley print called "tree rings" that I just love. It's bright and quite different from the greens, but I really think it works for a couple of reasons. The yellow is certainly in the same family as the green and this print has those sweet little touches of green hidden between the tree rings. But those original greens kinda just died there (imho) whereas this yellow really pops, actually highlighting more of the structure of the blocks.

a little yellow goes a long way

Now, yellow can be a dangerous thing because it's a very strong color drawing your eye towards it and away from the rest of the elements in the block. What I think is so perfect about this yellow print is that it's primarily made up of the white tree ring circles which recede back into the background. This cuts down a lot of the yellow, giving you just enough yellow to highlight the piece but not so much as to overwhelm the rest of the block. I think my favorite thing of all though is seeing the circular print within the angular shapes in the blocks. See how it works with the round cherry print in the spools block? Too cool!

Alright, enough block therapy for today. Rehab will continue this weekend...

Since magknits.com disappeared, I've received many concerned emails from knitters wanting to know where they'll be able to find the patterns that I published there. It took me a few weeks to piece the patterns together from the wayback machine and get them reformatted, but I am happy to announce that they are now all available (still for free!) in my free patterns section.

wimbledon tank

techguy socks

nbat 4 kids

nothing but a t-shirt

tricot

Get back, patterns.

Thea's golden vintage cardigan, now with two fronts and the beginnings of a sleeve. And to think that I started this last Sunday! Can you tell that I'm enjoying it? All that stockinette, all that pretty pretty red Silky Wool, how could I not? My yarn seems to be holding out as well. I started with two skeins for the back, then found two and half more from fellow Knitsmith Johanna. I've just started the very last skein on this sleeve, so I have high hopes that I won't need any more yarn (which would save me the trouble of introducing yet another dye lot into this sweater). Fingers crossed!

See ya next Monday with a finished sweater!

What's with the giant-looking sleeves on this George sweater? Holy wideness, batwing, um, batman. Luckily, babies are pretty funny shaped themselves, as wee one can demonstrate. See, fits just fine!

she making her "please" sign
"please take this sweater off me and give me more raisins"

Do you love tweed like I do? Really? Cause I am immediately drawn to it in the stores. All those little flecks of color, the rustic look of the yarn. There's simply nothing else like it. But I don't actually knit with a lot of tweed. It's too often scratchy and the flecks and texture tend to overwhelm any interesting patterning. Take the babycable vintage cardigan I'm working on right now. I originally started the sweater in another yarn, a tweed. Because... I love tweed. I had some Rowan felted tweed in my stash that has been long awaiting a perfect project. I thought I'd found it.

compare this with the silky wool

Love the yarn, but not in this pattern. You can't see the little baby cables at all. Drat! I ended up choosing Lavold Silky Wool because it had a similar character - rustic with slubs of color - but was more truly a solid and therefore better able to show off the details of the sweater. And so the felted tweed went back into the stash.

What's got me thinking about tweed is Nancy Thomas' new book, Tweed: More Than 20 Contemporary Designs to Knit.

I was so excited when I heard about this book. I loved the look of it. I was fascinated by the idea of it. I couldn't wait to get my hands in it. (Is this sounding familiar?) But I think what I was expecting was something like Clara Parkes' The Knitter's Book of Yarn just all about tweed yarns. Oh, how we've been spoiled by Clara's book! It's incredibly informative, it's interesting and practical, and the patterns are great. I can't decide if the Tweed book just pales a little in comparison or if, perhaps, I don't, in fact, like tweed as much as I thought I do. I could almost sense it right as I sat down and started in with the book; this is what happens to me with tweed yarn. I can't keep myself away from it in the yarn store, but when I sit down to knit with it, I end up wanting it to be less tweedy and more like some cashmerino yarn that's always perfectly smooth and lovely.

The Tweed book begins well, with an opening chapter on the history of tweed yarns, where we learn that "the formation of tweed...is a story about woven fabric, not knit fabric." Interesting. There's a description of the rustic, homespun fabrics originally made in the countrysides of the British Isles and worn to resist the harsh weather. Thomas explains that so-called "tweed" yarn was spun for these fabrics but eventually took the name itself. And the flecks, we discover in a blurb accompanying a photograph, were first created by accident! This is a nice little introduction, but it's over in a page. The end. Wait, I want to hear more! But Thomas moves on to briefly describe how the wool is made and how to handle it. If you've read The Knitter's Book of Yarn, there won't be anything new here, except maybe a nice page on felting, something that would be done with tweed yarns more than other yarns. Funnily enough, just when I started to get annoyed about not hearing more about the history or the production process, another beautiful picture of gorgeous tweeds would always appear. Drool. What were you saying?

Next, Thomas gives us a chapter full of stitch patterns to use with tweed yarn or to produce a tweedy effect. Even she seems to agree that tweed is a difficult animal. She includes several tips for working with tweed to keep it from getting too stiff or hiding your stitch patterns or getting out of shape. Finally, here, we get the full story of the nepps or flecks so typical of tweed yarns. And then we get to the patterns. Lots of tweedy patterns, just like you'd expect.

stunning scarves

big, textured sweaters

and some stylish tweed as well

There's some standard patterns thrown in amongst the rest just like there's some disjointed info thrown in amongst the rest in the beginning. I think what it comes down to is that if you really like Tweed (real tweed), you're probably a pretty traditional knitter and you'll find plenty of patterns here to suit you. I'm realizing that I tend to go in for the newer breed of tweeds, those that are blends with sophisticated color choices: Jo Sharp Silkroad Tweeds, Rowan felted tweed, Jaeger's luxury tweed. Maybe they're faux tweeds. Nancy Thomas actually includes many yarns in the book that aren't real tweeds, including some variegated yarns and others with plies of different colors. She's broadening the definition of tweed, I think, to include a lot of the tweed wannabes out there like me. And there's just enough interesting information, pretty pictures, and contemporary designs to satisfy us posers too.

So, reading this book, I learned a little bit about tweed and a little bit more about myself as a knitter. Conclusion: it isn't easy being tweed.

Let's recall, for a moment, the block of the month block that brought my block of the month-ing to a halt last month.

Ahh, the mosaic tile with the sparkly purple corners and the fluorescent leaves and that nothing green yucking up the center. I peeked into the block kits for the last half of the year and noticed that green and those leaves reappearing. Even the sparkles were going to return. I couldn't let that happen. I searched quilt shops and online stores for some suitable substitutes, sewed up a couple new blocks with the new fabrics, resewed a couple of old blocks, and then set about getting this one - the block that broke the camel's back - finally right.

can you find the one fabric I kept?

What do you think? I love the two oranges in the middle. It keeps some movement there without the extra contrast. One thing I didn't like about this block, besides most of the fabrics, was the way that there were so many different colors in it. All of the blocks are very bright and many of them have several colors all working together, but this one just seemed to have too much going on. I felt like it was time to do a calm - but still bright - block. I miss that red, but it didn't work as well with the newer fabrics and, trust me, it looks way better in the picture than it does in person. That new green though looks even better in real life. I loved that marble-y green fabric as soon as I saw it and it seemed well-suited for a mosaic tile block. Now instead of dreading the reappearance of blah greens, I can look forward to sneaking this sophisticated print into another block.

Yay! I declare the block of the month quilt all bettert!

"All bettert" is what the boys used to say when they were little. Now we adults are the only ones who still use it.

peanut farmer kits from Peanut Butter & Co. in NYC

The boys have become peanut farmers. Next stop: the White House!

Did I say I'd have a finished babycables cardigan for you today? What I meant to say was "one sleeve in and the other half knit". I always mix those up.

Things were going swimmingly until I ran out of yarn (a huge thanks to Sarah who quickly sent more that she just happened to have in my same dyelot!) and then realized that my row gauge was so far off that my sleeve cap was perfectly sized for my daughter and not me. Poop. I love the way the sweater is coming out at my slightly smaller gauge - it fits all nice and snug - but a mini sleeve cap just will not do. So out it went and I made up something a bit longer. And I had to sew it in and try it on before I could start the second sleeve. So you see, I couldn't possibly finish the sweater in time for this week.

Having learned nothing from my failure to fulfill my rash promise of last week, I will end by saying, see you next Monday with a finished sweater!

I did start the finishing on wee one's little pink bonbon sweater. Really. I pulled out the tiny needles, put those button band stitches back on the needle and knit in ribbing all the way up one side. The wrong side. Doh! Apparently, if you read the instructions correctly, it tells you to work the button side first, sew on or mark the positions of the buttons and then knit the other side (the one I started with), working buttonholes across from the buttons. Okay, number one, I'm a dork. I admit it, I didn't pay enough attention. But, number two, I don't like these instructions that sort of loosey goosey say to space buttons evenly apart and then make buttonholes at about the same place on the other side. Can't you just tell me to make buttonholes a specific number of rows apart and then I'll match the buttons to that? Wouldn't that be better? Am I the only one who really appreciates that sort of direction? And let's not forget, number three, the length of the button band (and corresponding buttonhole band) has only been given as "until button band, when slightly stretched, fits up front opening". So, let me get this right, the instructions are to kinda stretch it and then kinda space out buttons and then kinda make buttonholes to match? No, no, people, not with me.

I did rip out the one band that I knitted. You gotta have the buttonholes on the correct side, otherwise it's a boy's sweater, right? I reknitted the button band on the other side and will now count out the number of rows that it took to fit up the front opening. Then I'll divide that by the number of spaces between buttons and figure out for myself how many rows to knit the buttonhole band and how many rows apart to space the buttonholes. But I'm not going to be happy about it, okay?

Any pocket. They're both the same. And they both work on either side.

Isn't that cool? I thought that because the cables are going in opposite directions on the two fronts that the two pockets would have to be knit differently in order to match. But no, just knit the cable from the right front (when worn) on the right side of the pocket and the cable from the left front (when worn) on the left side of the pocket and it matches both sides! (I'm not very gifted when it comes to intuitive spatial reasoning, so I'm always surprised by these things.) I am sorry to report, however, that the directions didn't quite make this apparent. In fact, the pattern instructions have you reverse the cables on the pockets so they don't "match" the cables on the front. Even though the pattern picture clearly has them matching.

Since I'd already reversed my front left and right side cables (oops!) from the ones in the pattern, I was, luckily, paying no attention to the specific cable directions for the pocket and only discovered the pattern error later when it dawned on me that the two pockets are the same. I read through their directions to confirm my conclusion (which I assumed must be wrong) and discovered that their cables didn't match up. (Let me tell you from experience, it is amazing how many times you can check and double check and test knit a pattern, and still little bloops like this will remain. Oh well, c'est la pattern writing.)

Either way, I've got two matching pockets and George is ready for his collar.

This morning, my babycables vintage cardi, wee one and I visited Thea (Ms. Babycables herself!) and her awesome button stash to see if we couldn't find the perfect buttons for my sweater. I was looking for something sort of vintage-y that wouldn't draw too much attention away from the cable detail along the button bands. What do you think?

Dainty red fabric-covered buttons.

Pretty pretty pearl and silver buttons.

Or simple peachy iridescent buttons.

Cables and ribs. Pockets and collars. That's what little George is made of.

And now he just needs some buttons....

You put your left arm in and you shake it all about. Because setting in sleeves is annoying.

The little white smock cardigan is as cute as ever, but it's about to end up a vest if I can't get these g.d. sleeves in! I thought the denim yarn would shrink the armholes a bit more but those sleeve caps are still a little small. I've got to really finesse this seaming to make it work.

And that's what it's all about!

Some yarn I'm playing around with for a new design and fancy new needles to go with it. What will it be?

George is done! All the finishing touches on this sweater - the cables, the pockets, that cool collar - were so worth it. In fact, they add so much to the sweater that I was really afraid to use buttons with any sort of contrast for fear of overpowering them. As I tried different buttons, that deep navy color just keep fading away as background, setting off whatever I put on top of it. No more cables - it's a button! I was lucky to finally find buttons in almost the same navy shade as the sweater itself and I think they're perfect. And I have to say that it was wonderful to use the Rowan handknit dk cotton again. I'd forgotten how good a good cotton can be. And how good a good boy sweater can be.

The dolly I made for wee one when she was still a little wee embryo in my belly has been her constant companion now for over a year. She sleeps with dolly every night, cuddles with dolly after naptime and whenever she's feeling sad, she brings dolly along in the car for long rides. It goes without saying that dolly's gotten quite dirty in that time. Baby love can be pretty messy, you know. To complicate matters, it's impossible to get such a beloved toy away from said baby to wash it. Well, this week wee one has contracted a nasty stomach virus that's been sweeping through our neighborhood. And poor dolly found herself in exactly the wrong place at exactly the wrong time, if you know what I mean. There was no putting off the bath any more.

I'm gonna wash that vomit right outta my hair....

Lookie, patriotic baby sweaters!

And they're all finished too. I've been busy!! Georgie you saw last week. Now joining him in red is Tide from Miss Bea's Seaside, done in Knitpicks Shine Sport with some lovely little red buttons with flower details (the boys helped me pick out these buttons).

And our white sweater is the little smock cardigan from Sublime's new Soya Cotton book in Rowan Denim. I found precious little butterfly buttons for this one.

And it fits wee one perfectly!

What's this, mommy?

You made me a new dress!
Yes, I did. Now, let's let the folks see it.

Burda 9708

And the pretty ruffle.

"cherry baby" fabric from Lakehouse Dry Goods

You want to wear it? Right now? Okay.

Very nice. But how about we just wear it all by itself?

Oh, and with your new favorite shoes? Alright.

Such a girl.

The nice long weekend gave me some time to finish up Maggie Sefton's latest knitting mystery, A Killer Stitch.

I have to say, I was really not liking it at first. The beginning eight or nine chapters reminded me of nothing else but the last twenty or thirty chapters I'd read in this knitting series (this is the fourth book in the series). In each chapter, Kelly, our sleuthing knitter (or rather knitting sleuther, since she doesn't ever seem to get much better at knitting), finishes up her work, dashes over to the yarn store, dips her hands in the always scrumptous yarns, knits three or four rows, runs over to the cafe for coffee, chats with other yarnies (who I can never keep apart in my head) about the latest details of the latest local murder, and ends the chapter saying she has to get back to all her work. In the next chapter, she finishes up her work, dashes to the yarn store, caresses some yarn, gets coffee, gossips, and goes back to work. Work, yarn, coffee, work. Occasionally she does something sporty or goes out on a date with her much more interesting but rarely appearing boyfriend. And even more occasionally, clues are revealed about the murder and the prime suspects. I started asking myself exactly why I keep reading these books. And then I got to the last few chapters, which I actually kinda enjoyed. The ending to the mystery was much more satisfying than the last few (I don't even remember them) and the personal stuff about her friends was much more enjoyable. Then there was this awesome chapter at the end where someone new arrives to join the little knitting family and as he's introduced to all the characters, you get a little review of who they all are. This was great! I kept thinking, "right, who the hell was she again?" and then she'd give me all the important details. That was just what I needed to get me ready and dare I say eager for book five. What a sucker I am.

I still don't know what the title is supposed to mean though. The first book, Knit One, Kill Two, had two murders. Okay, makes sense. The second, Needled to Death, had someone stabbed with a knitting needle. Uh-huh, got it. Number three, A Deadly Yarn, was titled generically enough to fit the death of a fiber artist. But this fourth book focuses on the spinners at the local yarn store. And the victim, who is not a knitter, is killed with a shovel. So, a killer stitch? Uh, over my head. I see that the forthcoming fifth book is called Dyer Consequences, so I'm already concerned for the well-being of any yarn dyers who might show up at the House of Lambspun in the first few chapters. (Don't you just love these mystery series where waaaay too many people tend to die around some amateur sleuth. I mean, if you see Angela Lansbury getting on your train or visiting your neighborhood, RUN AWAY!)

Alright yarn dyers, you've been warned. Apparently you're next! The book arrives this summer and you know I'll be reading along.

Remember the knit pirates bags I made at the beginning of the year? I just saw the fabrics I used on sale at equilter.com! I don't know how much is left, but check in their Memorial Week Sale section under Novelty fabrics here and here.

Happy shopping and sewing!

See how that square has to fit into that "v" space? Looks like it'll go right in there, right? What's the big deal? But, actually, this sort of a seam is kind of a pain in the a** to sew. It's sort of like driving on Boston streets. Sure, everything's all nice nice in other towns, where you've only ever got two streets coming together - a little light, you go, I go, order and reason prevail. But then you arrive in Boston, or set-in-seam-town, with three or more streets coming together all the time and that no workie. You can't just be driving straight through intersections round here, people. It's complicated.

Like any good Boston road, my December block of the month block, has a ton of these set in seam traffic circles, where everyone has to slow down, coordinate their entrance into the circle juuuuusst right, and then pray that they exit at the right spot. And several hours later...

There's one more thing that makes this whole deal even trickier. If you can handle another metaphor, let me say that sewing set-in-seams is a little like doing intarsia knitting. Intarsia is tricky because each knit stitch needs to be connected to the one before it and the one after it, but if you keep joining in a new yarn over and over in the same row, the whole thing's not really connected anymore! The same is true in quilting. Usually, you're sewing nice straight seams that cross each other at 90 degree angles, locking the seams and holding everything together. But when three seams come together, you can't just sew from edge to edge and then sew the next seam across the first one and so on. That won't work because - well, I refer you to the traffic circle above - insanity, mayhem and possible death may ensue. (Think Egon in Ghost Busters warning you not to cross the streams: "It would be bad.") So you can only sew up to the exact point where all three streets come together and not beyond. And you better hit that point just right or not only will the quilting police show up and give you a ticket for not matching your points, but nothing will be connected! And holes in quilt blocks are just as unsightly as holes in knitted pieces. Or dents in cars.

Having driven enough in Boston, however, I knew that a little chuzpah, some well-timed aggression, and a willingness to go round the circle more than once would eventually get me through the block.

"Love in a Mist" block