I think all one of you should be a little grateful to me that I've spared you the couple of months of very occasional, distracted plain sock knitting that are behind me. You really, really didn't want to read about it, I promise. My in-laws visited during the first full week of October, and it was a gorgeous Indian Summer of a few precious seventy degree days. The day after they left, it started to rain and it has been rainy/overcast with forty-fifty degree highs quite literally ever since. Wisconsin decided that it was fall and would brook no argument about it. The fall colors had peaked around the time of my in-laws' visit and since then have been slowly fading. My knitting has only just now started to kick back into gear with the disappearance of summer, the return of my yarn budget, and the completion of USMLE Step 3, which was keeping me busy studying whenever I had a few extra moments. Now that the winter approaches, and All Saints/All Souls is here, knitting time has returned!
As you have read here before, any project slated for my husband seems to get relegated to the "bored with this" pile far before its time. There is no obvious reason for this...he isn't the type of man who demands only grey, brown, or black. He isn't the type who demands only plain items. There merely seems to be a notable pattern of boredom when I have an item to make for him. To force myself to get over this, and to improve the inequality of handknits we have in our home, I decided to whip up a quick pair of plain socks in a fairly manly burnt orange for him. Sock number one was a knitalong with my Knitting Gakusei (student :) ) Valerie, so I could show her the steps of the sock making process one by one, so it went more slowly than I'm used to. Sock number two, on my own time schedule, has been going even more slowly, and I'm getting so bored with the long slog of stockinette down the leg. Poor husband...it's taking far too long for him to have a single pair of handknit socks.
November first is a traditional time for knitters who craft for the holidays to begin work on the masterpieces they will bestow on loved ones. I'm not going to go into details, so that the recipients will be surprised, but there will be socks, hats, mittens, and scarves aplenty this year, if I can spare enough time to make them all. My Christmas knitting list is growing longer all the time, and I'm running into new questions, such as "What should one knit for one's boss?" I'm hoping to use some of the items I've knit and stowed away this year, but there is less in that pile than I'd really like.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Baa!
This past weekend, your friendly Desultory Knitter went to the Wisconsin Sheep and Wool Festival in Jefferson, so I thought I would give you all a rundown. It's been a little while since I've posted, but my research project for work has kept me quite busy of late and after work there has been much to do that isn't knitting. Sheep and Wool, however, was awesome, and has restored my will to make beautiful items!
Upon arriving at the Jefferson County Fairgrounds early Saturday morning, I could tell I was in for some good ol' Wisconsin rural fun. We were greeted at the entrance by a tractor pulling a little trolley, a shuttle carrying visitors around the fairgrounds, giving a delightful hayride ambience. Since we arrived so early, the major activity taking place at the time was the sheepdog trials. This was fascinating, as my husband and I had never seen anything like it. The dogs are treated like elite athletes, and many are involved in multiple national competitions per year. There are few dogs in the competition who are not purebred Border collies, though the amount of running they do makes them almost as lean as a greyhound. Not like my pampered little spaniel! The dog trainers/handlers stand at a fixed point in the field and whistle, yell, and stomp out commands as the dog runs about after the sheep. The dogs who were not actively competing at the moment sat on the sidelines and a few perked up their ears and pulled on their leashes at the commands, wishing they were out there with the sheep. The portion of the competition we saw was mostly "nursery" dogs, pups who were still being trained, though several showed immense promise according to knowledgeable spectators I spoke with.
After watching the competition for some time, we explored the rest of the fairgrounds. There was a building with fleece auction, a quilt show and "Make It with Wool" competition, a silent auction of roving and handspun yarn. A separate building held the "Meet the Breeds" hall, full of examples of various sheep breeds, as well as the Blue Faced Leicester show. I've heard of dog shows and cat shows, but a sheep show? Ridiculously awesome. There was a lambing pen in which several newborn lambs lived with their mamas, and a few pregnant ewes lived alongside them. Two adorable Wisconsin farm kids in classic overalls offered to "catch" a lamb for us to pet, eagerly introduced us to the lambs and explained which one was the oldest in the pen. They adored farm life and were obviously enamored of the sheep on their family farms.
The two "Country Store" barns were jam-packed with knitterly goodness, so I had to go through them very very carefully. In my haul, I have two skeins of beautiful handspun Romney, some lovely roving for spinning practice, some luxurious cash-merino sock yarn (yes, I splurged a bit, but it was within my budget for the event!) and a copy of Folk Socks and Respect the Spindle, two classic, classic tomes. There were spinning wheels, tons of handspun, roving, fleeces, and spindles from family farms and more commercial spinneries. A few booths even sold sheep related farming implements and sheepdog toys/leashes. The crowd was full of friendly knitters and spinners.
What did I miss out on? The classes. Next year, I'd love to take a class, possibly even an introductory wheel-spinning class, but I just couldn't this year. It is too bad, because they had a few truly world-class teachers there this year, but oh well. All this fun was mine to be had for a five dollar admission fee. Craziness, craziness I say. Who's with me next year?
Upon arriving at the Jefferson County Fairgrounds early Saturday morning, I could tell I was in for some good ol' Wisconsin rural fun. We were greeted at the entrance by a tractor pulling a little trolley, a shuttle carrying visitors around the fairgrounds, giving a delightful hayride ambience. Since we arrived so early, the major activity taking place at the time was the sheepdog trials. This was fascinating, as my husband and I had never seen anything like it. The dogs are treated like elite athletes, and many are involved in multiple national competitions per year. There are few dogs in the competition who are not purebred Border collies, though the amount of running they do makes them almost as lean as a greyhound. Not like my pampered little spaniel! The dog trainers/handlers stand at a fixed point in the field and whistle, yell, and stomp out commands as the dog runs about after the sheep. The dogs who were not actively competing at the moment sat on the sidelines and a few perked up their ears and pulled on their leashes at the commands, wishing they were out there with the sheep. The portion of the competition we saw was mostly "nursery" dogs, pups who were still being trained, though several showed immense promise according to knowledgeable spectators I spoke with.
After watching the competition for some time, we explored the rest of the fairgrounds. There was a building with fleece auction, a quilt show and "Make It with Wool" competition, a silent auction of roving and handspun yarn. A separate building held the "Meet the Breeds" hall, full of examples of various sheep breeds, as well as the Blue Faced Leicester show. I've heard of dog shows and cat shows, but a sheep show? Ridiculously awesome. There was a lambing pen in which several newborn lambs lived with their mamas, and a few pregnant ewes lived alongside them. Two adorable Wisconsin farm kids in classic overalls offered to "catch" a lamb for us to pet, eagerly introduced us to the lambs and explained which one was the oldest in the pen. They adored farm life and were obviously enamored of the sheep on their family farms.
The two "Country Store" barns were jam-packed with knitterly goodness, so I had to go through them very very carefully. In my haul, I have two skeins of beautiful handspun Romney, some lovely roving for spinning practice, some luxurious cash-merino sock yarn (yes, I splurged a bit, but it was within my budget for the event!) and a copy of Folk Socks and Respect the Spindle, two classic, classic tomes. There were spinning wheels, tons of handspun, roving, fleeces, and spindles from family farms and more commercial spinneries. A few booths even sold sheep related farming implements and sheepdog toys/leashes. The crowd was full of friendly knitters and spinners.
What did I miss out on? The classes. Next year, I'd love to take a class, possibly even an introductory wheel-spinning class, but I just couldn't this year. It is too bad, because they had a few truly world-class teachers there this year, but oh well. All this fun was mine to be had for a five dollar admission fee. Craziness, craziness I say. Who's with me next year?
Friday, September 2, 2011
Ask the Knitting Gamer Doctor 1: How to Knit Body Parts
In an effort to further explore the nearly-unique awesomeness that is me, I thought I would introduce yet another Q&A segment. I say "nearly unique", because as my friend over at The Crafty Doctor (thecraftydoctor.blogspot.com) could attest, I have a "twin from another mother." We both fall in the overlapping part of the Venn diagram of doctor, knitter, singer, gamer, geek, and now blogger apparently. We used to share the category of "future pediatrician" but we all know just how well that went. Read her blog for another perspective on this, but for the moment, here's mine. Once again, step with me onto my talk show stage...
Hello again, and welcome to Ask the Knitter Gamer Doctor, a show where we ask pointless questions to try to figure out how it is possible to function as all of those things at once!
Hi. Do we have to do this again?
Yes we do!
Fine
So, tell me...what's it like to be a knitter doctor? What could it possibly do for you?
It takes a lot of doing. Most of us went to medical school, frankly, because we actually want to learn things. Not a day went by in my resident career, or in my life since, that I didn't learn something, and that's how I like it. Knitting and medicine both offer so much to learn and so many niches for specialized expertise. The problem with being both, of course, is that learning requires time, the most precious commodity to us, and in training that learning time must be spent on medicine. My friend talks about wanting to use her on call time for knitting, which is pretty much exactly how I felt all the time, but neither of us is able to totally justify it.
Medical school, particularly the pre-clinical years, is different. While I hadn't yet become the crazy, obsessive knitter I am today, there were a few girls in our class known for sitting in lecture with knitting in progress. My inadvertent choice to nap during lectures seems a lot less productive, and now that I knit a lot more, I'm aware of just how much it can help focus and improve learning in lectures. This is one of those many situations in which I would love to call for a do-over.
The great goddess Knitting bestows lots of gifts on us, most of which would have saved my ass if I had developed them before medical school and residency. Focused attention, a sense of minor accomplishments adding up into a big one, patience, hope, planning and foresight all come from knitting, and it has helped me mature in a lot of ways. Residency, ironically, requires more of these and bestows more cash for raw materials, but sweeps away the time to knit.
That makes sense for your career path before, but what about your new one?
Pathology has the added benefit for the knitter of requiring color sense. I was drawn to cross stitch much earlier in my life because I adored the color, and then found out how much a part of knitting it is when I made the switch. Pathologists and histotechnologists work with color every day, and the similarities between staining a slide and dying a batch of yarn are vast. Pathology also requires attention to detail and the ability to see "the forest and the trees" at the same time, both of which are key to proper garment manufacture. Gross examination and sectioning a specimen require almost the same amount of hand control as the surgical procedure that removed it.
Have you knit any projects for work use or for your coworkers? What should I knit for the doctor in my life?
Stethoscope cozies. No question. After being introduced to them by a knitter friend, I learned to use DPN's in order to make one for myself. There has been little stopping since. Almost everyone who sees it asks about it, and it's a really simple knit. Next year, I may begin work on a microscope cozy. I think that might qualify me for admission by my psychiatry resident buddy, with a diagnosis of Obsessive-Delusional Knitter syndrome. Seriously, look for ODKS in the DSM-V whenever it finally appears, and you'll find my case history in some psychiatry journal.
My friend who introduced me to stethoscope cozies also introduced me to the knitting of stuffed body parts. Despite not actually being a doctor, she became fascinated with the idea of knitting body parts for people who don't have them. She knitted a pancreas for herself, since she has Type I diabetes, a gall bladder for a person who had recently undergone removal, and ovaries for me (long story). The best one, however, was for my friend James. She knitted him a heart. He's not a heart transplant patient or anything like that, but merely a cynical, sarcastic, heartless bastard in the best possible sense. Perhaps someday I will knit stuffed amigurumi microbes to rival those commercially made plushie ones.
Hello again, and welcome to Ask the Knitter Gamer Doctor, a show where we ask pointless questions to try to figure out how it is possible to function as all of those things at once!
Hi. Do we have to do this again?
Yes we do!
Fine
So, tell me...what's it like to be a knitter doctor? What could it possibly do for you?
It takes a lot of doing. Most of us went to medical school, frankly, because we actually want to learn things. Not a day went by in my resident career, or in my life since, that I didn't learn something, and that's how I like it. Knitting and medicine both offer so much to learn and so many niches for specialized expertise. The problem with being both, of course, is that learning requires time, the most precious commodity to us, and in training that learning time must be spent on medicine. My friend talks about wanting to use her on call time for knitting, which is pretty much exactly how I felt all the time, but neither of us is able to totally justify it.
Medical school, particularly the pre-clinical years, is different. While I hadn't yet become the crazy, obsessive knitter I am today, there were a few girls in our class known for sitting in lecture with knitting in progress. My inadvertent choice to nap during lectures seems a lot less productive, and now that I knit a lot more, I'm aware of just how much it can help focus and improve learning in lectures. This is one of those many situations in which I would love to call for a do-over.
The great goddess Knitting bestows lots of gifts on us, most of which would have saved my ass if I had developed them before medical school and residency. Focused attention, a sense of minor accomplishments adding up into a big one, patience, hope, planning and foresight all come from knitting, and it has helped me mature in a lot of ways. Residency, ironically, requires more of these and bestows more cash for raw materials, but sweeps away the time to knit.
That makes sense for your career path before, but what about your new one?
Pathology has the added benefit for the knitter of requiring color sense. I was drawn to cross stitch much earlier in my life because I adored the color, and then found out how much a part of knitting it is when I made the switch. Pathologists and histotechnologists work with color every day, and the similarities between staining a slide and dying a batch of yarn are vast. Pathology also requires attention to detail and the ability to see "the forest and the trees" at the same time, both of which are key to proper garment manufacture. Gross examination and sectioning a specimen require almost the same amount of hand control as the surgical procedure that removed it.
Have you knit any projects for work use or for your coworkers? What should I knit for the doctor in my life?
Stethoscope cozies. No question. After being introduced to them by a knitter friend, I learned to use DPN's in order to make one for myself. There has been little stopping since. Almost everyone who sees it asks about it, and it's a really simple knit. Next year, I may begin work on a microscope cozy. I think that might qualify me for admission by my psychiatry resident buddy, with a diagnosis of Obsessive-Delusional Knitter syndrome. Seriously, look for ODKS in the DSM-V whenever it finally appears, and you'll find my case history in some psychiatry journal.
My friend who introduced me to stethoscope cozies also introduced me to the knitting of stuffed body parts. Despite not actually being a doctor, she became fascinated with the idea of knitting body parts for people who don't have them. She knitted a pancreas for herself, since she has Type I diabetes, a gall bladder for a person who had recently undergone removal, and ovaries for me (long story). The best one, however, was for my friend James. She knitted him a heart. He's not a heart transplant patient or anything like that, but merely a cynical, sarcastic, heartless bastard in the best possible sense. Perhaps someday I will knit stuffed amigurumi microbes to rival those commercially made plushie ones.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
The Birth of a Knitting Gamer
I'm so very proud of my friend Valerie for being a determined, surprisingly skilled brand-new knitting gamer. She asked me to teach her last week, and I was won over by flattery (N.B. - Flattery works wonders, all of you who want someone to teach you to knit! And cookies. Lots of cookies.). I could tell she was going to be bitten by the bug pretty hard, and that she's going to turn into a knitter of formidable talent. We've talked about my knitting before, and it was fairly clear that she's a crafty girl at heart, and furthermore, previous attempts at crochet had been met with confusion. Normally, bi-craftitude is fine with me, but this crochet confusion reminded me of others I've known who instinctively find one of the two really easy and the other more difficult. Unlike other times I've taught someone, this time I'm really going to start a fire.
Lesson one last week had both of us blinking up at the clock on my wall, struggling to understand where the last two hours went. Yes, my friends, it was that good. We went to one of my favorite local yarn stores and petted skeins while I gave her a quick overview of fibers, their uses, and how knitters tend to feel about them. Then we tore ourselves away from the yarn because we had caught the store briefly closed before an evening class...so sad it was! Michael's was at least able to provide acceptable beginner gear, so we purchased some (totally underrated) Paton's Classic Wool and a pair of US7 straights. I discovered that a dice bag...a simple rectangle of stockinette with garter ends, seamed up the sides...makes an excellent first project for the noob knitting gamer. Longtail cast on and the knit stitch were promptly taught, and our subject assimilated the skill like a born knitter. Purl required a little thought at first, but within a row or two she was turning out stunningly even stockinette. Mama was so proud!
Lesson two involved Baby's First Knitting in Public when she joined me for my knitting group this week. She made only minimal errors in a commendable six inches of stockinette without me, so we covered how to tink and, eventually, to great triumph, how to bind off and do a mattress stitch seam. There is no greater "high" for a baby knitter than to (1) finish a project and (2) be able to flash your very first FO around in front of a group of six knitters who all understand just how amazing that is. Further reinforcement came from her SO, who has already requested a dice bag of his own. When she confessed to me that, upon entering Michaels for a different purpose, she found herself with yarn in hand, it was a good feeling. When she went on to say that the only reason she didn't buy the yarn was that she couldn't find the knitting needle aisle, it was music to my ears. Baby's first brush with the urge to stash AND her first bout of startitis at the same time...in the first week? The force is strong with this one :).
Lesson one last week had both of us blinking up at the clock on my wall, struggling to understand where the last two hours went. Yes, my friends, it was that good. We went to one of my favorite local yarn stores and petted skeins while I gave her a quick overview of fibers, their uses, and how knitters tend to feel about them. Then we tore ourselves away from the yarn because we had caught the store briefly closed before an evening class...so sad it was! Michael's was at least able to provide acceptable beginner gear, so we purchased some (totally underrated) Paton's Classic Wool and a pair of US7 straights. I discovered that a dice bag...a simple rectangle of stockinette with garter ends, seamed up the sides...makes an excellent first project for the noob knitting gamer. Longtail cast on and the knit stitch were promptly taught, and our subject assimilated the skill like a born knitter. Purl required a little thought at first, but within a row or two she was turning out stunningly even stockinette. Mama was so proud!
Lesson two involved Baby's First Knitting in Public when she joined me for my knitting group this week. She made only minimal errors in a commendable six inches of stockinette without me, so we covered how to tink and, eventually, to great triumph, how to bind off and do a mattress stitch seam. There is no greater "high" for a baby knitter than to (1) finish a project and (2) be able to flash your very first FO around in front of a group of six knitters who all understand just how amazing that is. Further reinforcement came from her SO, who has already requested a dice bag of his own. When she confessed to me that, upon entering Michaels for a different purpose, she found herself with yarn in hand, it was a good feeling. When she went on to say that the only reason she didn't buy the yarn was that she couldn't find the knitting needle aisle, it was music to my ears. Baby's first brush with the urge to stash AND her first bout of startitis at the same time...in the first week? The force is strong with this one :).
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
The Valley of the Shadow of No Wool
I've been in a little bit of a slump lately with my knitting, so I'm not churning out the goods with the enthusiasm of previous months. I know this happens, and I know it never lasts, but there are just too many other things that need to be accomplished and knitting just isn't quite soothing my ills the way it so often does. Patience is a virtue and one that Knitting herself is most generous in bestowing on us, but the patience I need to wait this one out is just not appearing.
My knitting's suffering is primarily due to the fact that I have a new research project I'm carrying at work. Between learning how to use the automated slide stainer, performing literature searches for background information, and moving forward my previous project, my time at work is at something of a premium. The in-between times while waiting for something at work used to be prime knitting time, but now it's just not there. What time I do have is being hijacked by the need to study for Step 3, to be taken in October, and continue work on my Match application. It's no fun when things suddenly heat up like this, but it happens.
Another issue that is just killing my drive to knit is the fact that I made an agreement with my husband not to buy any more yarn until Wisconsin Sheep and Wool in four weeks. My stash is big enough to last, but I'm just not inspired. The large percentage of cheapass acrylic doesn't help, of course. I have projects in mind that simply cannot be done from stash and the projects that can be all strike me as blah. The pair of ribbed socks I have on the needles right now and the fancier socks for my husband are just not doing it for me. Poor guy...everything I have planned to knit for him ends up in the "I'm bored with this" pile. The most exciting, inspiring thing I've done with fiber lately is learning to spin, but I have not a single scrap of roving on which to practice and I'm not allowed to buy any yet! Aaaaaagh! Why, why did I do this?
Oh yes, and did I mention that it's summer, for heaven's sake? Even handknit socks are too warm to wear, and early Christmas gift planning rings just a little hollow.
Runners, I'm told, keep themselves going by fixing their vision on a point far down the track. They keep their eyes on the next goal and the next until the finish line is crossed. To what shall I fix my eyes? Wisconsin Sheep and Wool, of course, for one thing. I'm so excited about meeting the sheeps and the sheepiedogs, finding nice roving and handspun, and just having a grand time. But that is not going to be happening for a while. Instead, I'm looking forward to helping bring a brand new knitting gamer into the world...my friend Valerie. She too is a gamer and has asked to join our cul...er, I mean, hobby...after hearing my enthusiastic testimonials. We are going to go to a fabulous local yarn store and pick her out something nice, after which I will teach her to knit. Her first project: a dice bag...only fitting for a knitting gamer, no?
My knitting's suffering is primarily due to the fact that I have a new research project I'm carrying at work. Between learning how to use the automated slide stainer, performing literature searches for background information, and moving forward my previous project, my time at work is at something of a premium. The in-between times while waiting for something at work used to be prime knitting time, but now it's just not there. What time I do have is being hijacked by the need to study for Step 3, to be taken in October, and continue work on my Match application. It's no fun when things suddenly heat up like this, but it happens.
Another issue that is just killing my drive to knit is the fact that I made an agreement with my husband not to buy any more yarn until Wisconsin Sheep and Wool in four weeks. My stash is big enough to last, but I'm just not inspired. The large percentage of cheapass acrylic doesn't help, of course. I have projects in mind that simply cannot be done from stash and the projects that can be all strike me as blah. The pair of ribbed socks I have on the needles right now and the fancier socks for my husband are just not doing it for me. Poor guy...everything I have planned to knit for him ends up in the "I'm bored with this" pile. The most exciting, inspiring thing I've done with fiber lately is learning to spin, but I have not a single scrap of roving on which to practice and I'm not allowed to buy any yet! Aaaaaagh! Why, why did I do this?
Oh yes, and did I mention that it's summer, for heaven's sake? Even handknit socks are too warm to wear, and early Christmas gift planning rings just a little hollow.
Runners, I'm told, keep themselves going by fixing their vision on a point far down the track. They keep their eyes on the next goal and the next until the finish line is crossed. To what shall I fix my eyes? Wisconsin Sheep and Wool, of course, for one thing. I'm so excited about meeting the sheeps and the sheepiedogs, finding nice roving and handspun, and just having a grand time. But that is not going to be happening for a while. Instead, I'm looking forward to helping bring a brand new knitting gamer into the world...my friend Valerie. She too is a gamer and has asked to join our cul...er, I mean, hobby...after hearing my enthusiastic testimonials. We are going to go to a fabulous local yarn store and pick her out something nice, after which I will teach her to knit. Her first project: a dice bag...only fitting for a knitting gamer, no?
Monday, August 8, 2011
Ask the Knitting Gamer 2: Learning to Spin at a Gaming Convention
Hi all zero of you! Many apologies for the unexpectedly long hiatus, and the exact reasons for it are still a little unclear, so I won't explain. My husband and I have returned from Gen Con with a few new stories to tell, a few new games, a few new friends, and a few new skills. In order to avoid a super-long post with all the details, which are going to come out over time anyway, I thought this might be an opportunity to do another round of Ask the Knitting Gamer!
Gooooood morning, and welcome to round two of Ask the Knitting Gamer - the Con Edition. Shall we get started?
Let's.
(1) As a knitter, why would you want to accompany your gamer to a huge national convention like Gen Con? What bribes were necessary?
Conventions like Gen Con can be incredibly fun for a knitter, so there was little need for bribes. Although a little handpainted sock yarn couldn't hurt.
Aside from the charms of the con itself, with the wide variety of costumed persons, wandering minstrels, games to demo, and the like, there are non-game events sponsored by the Spouses Association. And many of these...are fiber arts classes! Yay!!! As noted in the title, I learned at this year's convention, in an introductory-type manner, the fine art of drop spindle spinning from one of these. There is, of course, a "knitting 101" and "crochet 101", but there are so many more, and there are more every year.
(1) Give us the straight dope then...Are the classes really any good? Would a person who already possesses some skillz in knitting and/or crochet actually want to attend, or are we the ones who teach this stuff?
They are surprisingly fantastic, and there are more than purely introductory classes. My spinning class was taught by a totally gifted teacher who happens to live about 45 minutes south of me, so I'll be seeing her at the state Sheep and Wool Festival next month, no doubt. Her teaching skill led me to crave my next hit of cra...I mean, roving. Despite the pure suckitude of my attempts at learning, she eventually got me to loosen my sweaty death grip and figure out what drafting really means. In sheer gratitude, I may end up feeling good enough about my spinning to send her some handspun someday. The best part of learning this at Gen Con was that I then got to sit down at the table where my husband was playing a game and watch all the other players stare at me like I'm the Second Coming as I practiced spinning.
(3) So, what else can the gamer-loving knitter do at Gen Con?
Live in the open crafting room!
No, I kid. There is far too much else to do to live with donated Red Heart. One can go on a haunted walking tour of the downtown Indianapolis area with a representative of the local Paranormal Society...if one was insufficiently surrounded by weird already. The vendor hall is full of a wide range of items, including a jeweler booth where I purchased a set of bronze DPN's, replicas of a set found in a 13th century grave in Estonia. One can sit down to dinner with a couple of gamers and find out that one of them has a knitter wife, and that the other is a gamer lawyer who enjoys discussing exactly what you can or cannot do with a purchased pattern. Last but not least, you could actually play a game. DM's are often amused by a player who knits during a Dungeons and Dragons run and may incorporate this into the character.
(4) What did you knit during Gen Con?
I finished a pair of plain socks and most of a plain, soft hat. Oh yeah, and I knit a little swatch of my very first handspun. I'm proudest of that.
Gooooood morning, and welcome to round two of Ask the Knitting Gamer - the Con Edition. Shall we get started?
Let's.
(1) As a knitter, why would you want to accompany your gamer to a huge national convention like Gen Con? What bribes were necessary?
Conventions like Gen Con can be incredibly fun for a knitter, so there was little need for bribes. Although a little handpainted sock yarn couldn't hurt.
Aside from the charms of the con itself, with the wide variety of costumed persons, wandering minstrels, games to demo, and the like, there are non-game events sponsored by the Spouses Association. And many of these...are fiber arts classes! Yay!!! As noted in the title, I learned at this year's convention, in an introductory-type manner, the fine art of drop spindle spinning from one of these. There is, of course, a "knitting 101" and "crochet 101", but there are so many more, and there are more every year.
(1) Give us the straight dope then...Are the classes really any good? Would a person who already possesses some skillz in knitting and/or crochet actually want to attend, or are we the ones who teach this stuff?
They are surprisingly fantastic, and there are more than purely introductory classes. My spinning class was taught by a totally gifted teacher who happens to live about 45 minutes south of me, so I'll be seeing her at the state Sheep and Wool Festival next month, no doubt. Her teaching skill led me to crave my next hit of cra...I mean, roving. Despite the pure suckitude of my attempts at learning, she eventually got me to loosen my sweaty death grip and figure out what drafting really means. In sheer gratitude, I may end up feeling good enough about my spinning to send her some handspun someday. The best part of learning this at Gen Con was that I then got to sit down at the table where my husband was playing a game and watch all the other players stare at me like I'm the Second Coming as I practiced spinning.
(3) So, what else can the gamer-loving knitter do at Gen Con?
Live in the open crafting room!
No, I kid. There is far too much else to do to live with donated Red Heart. One can go on a haunted walking tour of the downtown Indianapolis area with a representative of the local Paranormal Society...if one was insufficiently surrounded by weird already. The vendor hall is full of a wide range of items, including a jeweler booth where I purchased a set of bronze DPN's, replicas of a set found in a 13th century grave in Estonia. One can sit down to dinner with a couple of gamers and find out that one of them has a knitter wife, and that the other is a gamer lawyer who enjoys discussing exactly what you can or cannot do with a purchased pattern. Last but not least, you could actually play a game. DM's are often amused by a player who knits during a Dungeons and Dragons run and may incorporate this into the character.
(4) What did you knit during Gen Con?
I finished a pair of plain socks and most of a plain, soft hat. Oh yeah, and I knit a little swatch of my very first handspun. I'm proudest of that.
Monday, July 25, 2011
My Knitting Heresies
Knitter's Review has a lovely forum, and there are some really interesting threads that get going on there from time to time. I'm in the middle of reading a thread entitled "Knitting heretics", in which people confess their real, less-than-politically-knitting-correct, opinions about what is supposedly knitting gospel. The Yarn Harlot, in her blog and in her published work, often likes to comment on what an amazing thing knitting is to bring together such widely varied people. There is no one thing that can be said about all knitters, who they are, what they like, and the fiber industry has a really hard time keeping up with us. Things everyone knows are popular are always going to draw detractors who think that holding a "nonconformist" opinion somehow improves their status or their life, but admittedly some things do not deserve to be popular sometimes.
In that spirit, I'd like to offer a list of my own "knitting heresies", which are of course only my own opinion. After weeding out "heresies" which are so common as to actually verge on orthodoxy (I hate novelty yarn, I actually like cuff-down socks with heel flaps on DPN's, I never swatch, etc.)
(1) I felt like the show Knitty Gritty talked down to me, and frankly to all knitters of some experience. Except for knowing how to physically make the knit stitch and perhaps the purl, there seemed to be absolutely no brain cells required of the viewer. Vicky Howell seemed very nice, but the kind of knitting celeb who would only be appreciated by those not too far on their journey into our craft.
(2) I absolutely hated every single project in the original Stitch and Bitch book and I'm not quite sure I'd recommend it as a beginner book even for the learning section. The recent "Superstar Knitting" followup, however has redeemed Debbie Stoller in my eyes, if only for the descriptions of some more advanced-ish techniques.
(3) I cannot stand garter stitch. Think it's ugly as sin and frankly looks cheap. Must have been the garter stitch Red Heart rectangles I was forced into as "beginner projects." Thank gawd I love my grandparents-in-law enough to make a giant garter-stitch log cabin acrylic-in-massive-numbers-of-colors afghan. It would not exist if I wasn't using my great-grandmother-in-law's 1970's dime store acrylic stash, in memoriam.
(4) I love the members of my knitting group and adore talking to them, but I'm often ambivalent about the act of getting in my car for twenty minutes to do what I was about to do on my couch.
(5) I'm currently making my first sweater in pieces. Don't think the top-down-raglan crowd is going to make any headway with me.
(6) I'm generally unaware of what "everyone" is knitting. It's not that I actively avoid things like Clapotis, I am purely clueless.
(7) I sometimes intentionally choose projects to bring to my knitting group purely for show. I hate this about myself, but I just soak up comments like "I'd never have the patience for that".
(8) Crocheted fabric strikes me as weird looking and one-note.
(9) I would love to knit in church if I could - I swear I'd actually pay more attention - but there's always my mother's voice in the back of my head saying "Are you crazy?"
(10) I love pooling and flashing in my sock yarns. Think it looks awesome.
Aaaand...there you go.
In that spirit, I'd like to offer a list of my own "knitting heresies", which are of course only my own opinion. After weeding out "heresies" which are so common as to actually verge on orthodoxy (I hate novelty yarn, I actually like cuff-down socks with heel flaps on DPN's, I never swatch, etc.)
(1) I felt like the show Knitty Gritty talked down to me, and frankly to all knitters of some experience. Except for knowing how to physically make the knit stitch and perhaps the purl, there seemed to be absolutely no brain cells required of the viewer. Vicky Howell seemed very nice, but the kind of knitting celeb who would only be appreciated by those not too far on their journey into our craft.
(2) I absolutely hated every single project in the original Stitch and Bitch book and I'm not quite sure I'd recommend it as a beginner book even for the learning section. The recent "Superstar Knitting" followup, however has redeemed Debbie Stoller in my eyes, if only for the descriptions of some more advanced-ish techniques.
(3) I cannot stand garter stitch. Think it's ugly as sin and frankly looks cheap. Must have been the garter stitch Red Heart rectangles I was forced into as "beginner projects." Thank gawd I love my grandparents-in-law enough to make a giant garter-stitch log cabin acrylic-in-massive-numbers-of-colors afghan. It would not exist if I wasn't using my great-grandmother-in-law's 1970's dime store acrylic stash, in memoriam.
(4) I love the members of my knitting group and adore talking to them, but I'm often ambivalent about the act of getting in my car for twenty minutes to do what I was about to do on my couch.
(5) I'm currently making my first sweater in pieces. Don't think the top-down-raglan crowd is going to make any headway with me.
(6) I'm generally unaware of what "everyone" is knitting. It's not that I actively avoid things like Clapotis, I am purely clueless.
(7) I sometimes intentionally choose projects to bring to my knitting group purely for show. I hate this about myself, but I just soak up comments like "I'd never have the patience for that".
(8) Crocheted fabric strikes me as weird looking and one-note.
(9) I would love to knit in church if I could - I swear I'd actually pay more attention - but there's always my mother's voice in the back of my head saying "Are you crazy?"
(10) I love pooling and flashing in my sock yarns. Think it looks awesome.
Aaaand...there you go.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)