Wendy Bernard's Blog, page 18

I Guess I Took the Summer off, too.

The problem with knitting for kids is that they sometimes grow so fast that once you finish the project it will pretty much no longer fit.

That has never been my problem--at least in the past it hasn't--so I never experienced that O_o feeling when checking the item for fit. You see, I started to re-vamp my Girlfriend's Swing Coat Sweater pattern quite awhile ago and promptly put it down so I could finish my third book, Custom Knits Accessories (Spring, 2012), and then after it was complete, for what reason, I do not know, I decided to practically become a professional bias tape maker instead of tending to things more important than bias tape-making, like knitting and revamping patterns, for example.

One day, I will show you my bias tape.

So here I am, with Girlfriend ready to go to school in a couple of days, and getting the knit love back. I mean, you can only sew so many quilts (wanna make one for Miss Fitz a.k.a. "Loretta," come to think of it), canvas project bags and pillowcases--none of which require bias tape, dang it.

In fact, it's sort of ironic: I used to joke about dressing the real little ones in hand-knit garments because, after all, they can't undress themselves or protest very much. But now I can't manage to finish a simple sweater for Girlfriend, even if I want to.

But I'm not complaining. Once this wonder's bottom edge is frogged and re-knit to be a few inches longer, I'll get back on track. It's knit from the top down, so this type of correction is an easy-do. Plus, Girlfriend grew in length and not in girth despite the fact that she became a floor potato over the summer.

BTW: Watch this space in the next few days. I'll be reviewing Wendy Knits Lace by Wendy D. Johnson and having a giveaway.

Oh, and even better: We scored a house sitter for Christmastime when we head out to visit my dad and brother and the rest of the family. With three dogs, it's way better to get a house sitter that you trust instead of boarding all three (cha-ching!). Any rate, it turns out, our house sitter...he knits!

*I guess that means I will have to lock the door to my yarn room.*

Speaking of Earthquakes

Years ago, when I worked in the corporate world and when we had more money to spend on things like regular sit-down lunches out, I was sitting in a deli. This deli was festooned with crystal chandeliers and lined with mirrored walls. Sitting there crammed into the joint like sardines felt like sitting in one of those funny houses, is that what they're called? Fun houses? Hmmm. Don't know about that, but I'm talking about the carnivals that have a house with mirrors, so when you enter it, you won't know which way you were facing or if someone was just one person, or many that look alike, lined up like an accordion.

So I'm eating borscht or something like that and wouldn't you know, the chandeliers above us started to vibrate. I took a look around me for clues and everyone else just continued doing what they were doing. A second or two later, things escalated (the mirrors looked a bit dodgy and they were creaking), and I took another look around me. People were still sitting there comfortably, eating their chicken soup or sandwich, as if nothing at all was happening.

But things really began to shake. I looked across the table at my seat mate and he just looked back at me, his eyes quietly saying "Earthquake!" So what did I do?

I bolted under the table. And when it was all over, I looked around me, and all I saw under the other tables were legs. Lots of legs wearing trousers and skirts. There were no other people under a table, not even one. I was the only one in the mirrored and chandelier-ed deli-joint under a table. The only, only one.

Let's just say, it took me a lot longer to come out from under the table than it took for the earthquake to run its course, from start to finish.

Oh Los Angeles and you people in it: Sometimes I just don't fit in.

On the knitting and crafting front: I have managed to continue the Summer of Avoiding Knitting by avoiding knitting. Yes, I did design and knit those bonnets (I'm getting the pattern edited and photographed as I type), but other than that it has been sewing, more sewing and making more bias tape, for what reason I do not know. I've also made lots of ice cream. I've made countless friendship bracelets and managed to not clean up my studio office, which was on my list of things to do this summer.

This has been my lost summer.

Except, in hopes that I would clean up my studio office, I did finish a wall quilt that will get hung once I do actually tackle the clean-up job. Here is a picture. You can click on it for big. You can see that I love orange, rust, more orange, and more rust.

BTW: I was introduced to an iPhone app called Yarn U. It's inexpensive and I've been checking it out. It is a yarn database that contains beautiful pictures and reviews of various yarns, as well as project pics for each, not to mention links to online sellers. From what I can tell, it isn't complete at the moment, but it is worth a download if you like to look up yarn on the fly without having to connect to the Internet. I can see that it would be helpful when you're traveling or eating at a cafe and looking for inspiration. 

But...Blanket?

I almost tried to name Girlfriend Wren. And then it was going to be Lily. And then, Willow. HWWV absolutely put the kabosh on those so we settled for something simpler. Her big sister, now gone, was Eden and he agreed to that. So, why not Wren, Lily or Willow?

I feel for that boy, Blanket, the one whose father is Michael Jackson. I can see someone naming their kid all sorts of things, but Blanket? If you open the door to Blanket, then you might want to try Fishbone, Knob, Multiply, or worse: Elevator. I happen to like LaFawnduh, or whatever he name is on that movie, Napolean Dynamite, because the actress is just so sparkly and friendly. If she smiled at me the way she smiles at Kip in the movie, I'd want to run away with her, too. 

We named Miss Fitz on a whim and now she has an alter ego. Call us nice because we are. We realized that the folks might get the wrong idea. You know, that she's somehow a misift. (But aren't we all?) Anyway, she has a heck of a lot more spunk than someone named  "Fitz."

So, from now on, we'll call her Loretta. Miss Fitz will still be on her name tag, though.

Moving onto knitting. I have been working on a few things--mostly homemade bias tape for what reason, I don't know, and plugging along, thinking of a few patterns for the fall/winter season. I have been smitten with bonnets--I mean, who wouldn't be? Ha!--Still; I've been looking at them, the few that are out there, and designed one sized for young and old. Girlfriend wore hers out today in spite of the warmer weather. We will have a proper shoot when the time is right and after I've blocked this one and another that I did in "grellow." I'm happy to say that  this is a quick knit and something you can whip up before the holidays. 

Not to mention, it is practically seamless and will hide major roots.

If you are wondering, this was knit up in Lorna's Laces Honor in two colors. I think the blue is called Island Blue and the purple is simply, "violet." I will fill you in on all the particulars soon.

P.S. I have a friend with the last name, Ball. Every year we receive a Christmas card that says: "Happy Holidays from the Balls."

Oh, and yeah, I have to tell you something really, really funny. I got a call from my dad the other day (he reads the blog) and he said, "So you named your new dog Miss Fitz?" and I said, "Yeah." And he said, "So...you remember me telling you about Mrs. Fitz, the one who lived down the street when I grew up?"

"No, dad, I don't."

"Oh. For some reason, I thought that you got the idea for her name from my stories about Mrs. Fitz down the street in Omaha."

"Nope. It just came to us, dad."

"Oh. It's just that she'd lay in a hammock in her front yard and fart all day; that's all. Thought you remembered the story."

Xanadu

I have been dreaming about the color combo known as "grellow" for awhile now. I finally found the perfect tones (The Fibre Company) and have been swatching like a crazy woman for days and days to get the perfect blend. I have decided that the quintessential combo is stripes with more grey than yellow (I like the spelling "grey" better than "gray") with a ripple effect. If there's no ripple, then it is just grey and yellow stripes; right? With the ripples, there's more to look at and dream about.

A long time ago, we installed twinkly lights underneath our roller skates and right before couple's skate was announced and before the lights turned down, we'd bend over and switch on our skate lights. It was cool. It was especially cool, too, if you happened to be asked to skate with one of the curly-haired twins, one of the guys whose skates had super wide-wide trucks. This meant that they could probably skate very fast in spite of their height. One of them, one night, told me that he loved me while we were on the phone and I promptly hung up on him. Those two were so identical that I can't for the life of me tell you which one he was. We were 13-ish.

All three of us. And now, nearly 35 years later, I can't even remember their names.\

At any rate, we drank some wine at lunch yesterday and then went to get some dog food.

Friends, just like you wouldn't dare go yarn shopping after a sip or three of wine, do not go to the local pet store after wine, either, especially while they have the itty-bitty-dog-adoption going on. Seriously. If you don't follow my advice, then you'll come home with a three-pounder like we did. (And a third dog who is only three months old.)

Her name was Adelle but she needed a new name and a new start. But before I tell you her new name, I'll say that the family who had her before us allowed their young children to paint her toenails red and forcefeed her a marble. A marble that practically killed her.

So, lucky for us, a resuce organization got ahold of her and gave her a life-saving surgery to remove the marble. I have it in my purse for good luck.

Her new name is Miss Fitz.

She has ears that could hear a fly pass wind in Africa. Seriously.

Rocko hasn't made too much of a fuss.

Chuck doesn't care either way, which is just the way we like him.

I often think that because we couldn't have more children that we'd have more pets.

Ha ha. Just kidding. It was the wine.

I will never drink wine and then go to a pet store again. I promise.

More Proof That I am Nuts

First: Yesterday, I attended a gathering of volunteers at a museum where I donate my time. Most of the docents are older than I am so I have a lot of fun (I like to hang with the folks). Anyway, one of the guys showed up with his shirt inside out. He's one of those people who are sort of "out there," and his phone kept on ringing--his ringtone was this annoying country ditty and this guy ain't a country type of guy, I think he's German. Whatever. So, I just smiled at him and a couple of us giggled about the shirt and about his ringtone and afterward, I went home, changed my clothes and the three of us: HWWV, Girlfriend and I, went out and grabbed some lunch.

Do you see where this is going? 

A couple of biker dudes came into the joint where we were eating and I got up to grab some chips or something and one of them smiled at me. I smiled back. Then I got up to get some quarters for Girlfriend and again, one of the biker dudes smiled at me. I smiled back. Then I got up to grab a straw. Another dude smiled at me and then I smiled back. Everyone was smiling. Then, I told HWWV all about the guy at the museum earlier that day, the one with his shirt inside out. HWWV smiles at me, I smile back. Then, I look down, and to my horror, my shirt is on inside out.

Second: Yesterday I was rifling through some drawers and pulled out Jordan, a pullover that I designed. I looked at it and realized that it had changed color. The original was a natural linen color, and this one was now a nice, lime green.

So, I go online and posted on Ravelry about this odd color change. "How can linen change color so drastically?" I queried. I got a bunch of replies. People asked if there was high heat in the drawer. They asked if the color changed through and through or is it splotchy?  Or, if I stored it near some other green garment. You get the idea.

Then, I woke up this morning and read through the replies to my original post and among them was this gem:

"You wrote a blog post awhile ago saying that you knit another one in the color, Willow, a lime green, because the original had to be sent to TNNA."

I have no words.

Equal Opportunity Craft

I am one of those horrible people who will not read directions. My mom was that way, too.

So that is the way that I have approached quilting. I am not really a quilter. Back in the day, I worked at Jo-Ann's Fabrics when it was a much more enjoyable space and all the ladies who quilted would come in and I'd cut fabric for them. Most of it was teeny tiny flower prints and muslin and still, I pined for the idea of seeing their finished projects. In those days--yes, I'm that old--they didn't machine quilt like they do today. Instead, they'd piece the thing together using a machine and then quilt the item using a big hoop or stand by hand or they'd have a quilting bee where they'd sort of help each other out once a week or so. I understand that some of them had cocktails.

I must be an old soul or something because around that time, back in the mid-80's, I did do some quilts by hand. I have one sitting in the cupboard that I meant to give to a best girlfriend for her wedding. I was going to be her maid of honor and then, last minute, she called me up and uninvited me. No Quilt For You!

I still have it, and it is horribly out of date, but I will never, ever throw it away. I sort of like being the Quilt Nazi.

So, after I finished my third book, Custom Knits Accessories (yes, a *third* I've been busy), I turned to a non-yarny craft to take a break. I made this quilt.

I tend to buy fabric that catches my eye in 1/2 yard pieces and hoard them. And when I saw a girlfriend of mine, Kaity, post a YouTube video of quilters racing to finish a "jelly roll" quilt, I instantly thought of the fabric I had on hold. 

So, I made myself a jelly roll of my own--no need to buy one--just 40 strips of 44" x 2.5" fabric and randomly picked them up and sewed them together based on the video. Then, I sandwiched it with some backing (bleached muslin) and machine quilted it with simple straight lines about one-half inch apart. I didn't even use one of those fancy walking feet because I like the ripply effect.

I doubt most quilters would appreciate what I did.

But, that's okay.

I like it and that is all that matters.

My wish is that whatever you do, whatever you choose to craft, that you do it the way you want to do it. You don't need any stinking manual. . .

. . . Unless it is the type of manual that tells you to follow your own heart.

I like following my own heart. It is broken and beaten up and uplifted and moved and all that. I think that's the key, don't you?

My Grandmother Used to Knit

I think all along that there have been a handful of types of knitters but you could probably push them into one of two basic peg holes: utilitarian knitters and those who knit complex items because they enjoy the challenge, or bragging rights. Of course, there are crossovers and unique personalities, but for the sake of what is on my mind, I'll lump them into two types.

My grandmother fit into the first of the two basic groups. Me? I probably am really more like her than I think. I do like to knit items that present a challenge, but I would hardly want to invite complexity that doesn't have to be there. I like straightforward things that don't put on airs.

But back to my grandmother. She's still alive but I find myself speaking about her in the past tense. She has dementia--severe dementia--and probably advanced Alzheimer's. She forgot who I was years and years ago. Last time I saw her was on her 90th birthday and at first she thought I was my late mother and then she thought I was one of her nieces. I don't think she really understood who I was until I talked to her about knitting. Then she said she'd like me to show her how.

But she showed me how, initially. And since Helen was the type of knitter who liked a straightforward knit with little embellishment except for, say, a huge pom pom that was perfectly formed by hand--not to mention it was in the 60's and 70's and these slippers were de rigueur for any knitter who had relatives with feet--I recreated the iconic (hah!) pattern for the book, My Grandmother's Knitting, edited by Larissa Brown. I also re-designed this basic slipper pattern so it fit my personal aesthetic, but I won't show that one to you via this blog just yet. The book comes out in September.

One of the reasons I really wanted to be part of this book was because my grandmother had such a huge part in what I do each day--who I am now.

I keep talking and talking and writing about her and no matter what I do she will never, ever know how grateful I am and how happy she has made me. I miss her.

I wish there was a way I could share this all with her.

Finally, A Doo-Dad That Works

In addition to knitting what appears to me to be the world's largest sock, AKA "the biggest sock I have made in my life" (size 11.5-ish; don't laugh), we've been trying to do something for Girlfriend each day. After all, she's at home for the summer and we don't have many kids to play with in the neighborhood.

One thing that has been a fun thing to do the past two summers is use an instant popsicle maker that we found, a Zoku Quick Pop Maker, to make last-minute snacks. It's not inexpensive, but if you actually use the thing, it's worth it. Not to mention, unlike practically every other too-pie-in-the-sky-for-it-to-actually-work appliance or doo-dad you have ever purchased, like that super-mini $20 sewing machine or maybe a Thigh Master or maybe one of those electronic ab stimulators (yes, I confess to buying all three).

But this thing works and as long as you follow certain guidelines, you don't have to follow their recipes. The one we made was simply a can of Kerns Strawberry-Banana fruit juice with a few dollops of pineapple-coconut yogurt thrown in. Sure, it's still full of sugar, but it beats the heck out of the junk our ice cream man sells for four bucks--if you can hail him. That man drives so fast I'm surprised he sells anything at all.

 

On Fences

I remember hearing my parents say things like, "oh, we haven't seen them in 25 years! I wonder how they're doing!" Or, "I'm old enough to be her grandma," etc.

I can't believe I'm saying the same stuff.

I recently made friends again with a boy I used to know in high school. Our girls are the same age and his parents still live in the same house they lived in way back when. Anyway, he's not a boy anymore, he's a man and when I saw him again, I told him that I couldn't have or wouldn't have been able to pick him out of a room. That is how much he has changed. He was a boy when I knew him and now he's a grown up. So's his brother and his sister--kids to me back in the day--but now they are peers.

I normally would never re-connect with people from my past. I'm just not that type. I don't know why. I'm just not. But in this case, it felt right, probably because his family members were nice to me when I was an angsty teenager and, oh, I don't know. Maybe it's just the way the universe works.

I'm saying this because even though we have a fence that is rotting (see it there behind the napkins I sewed yesterday?) I can't even bring myself to speak to our neighbor about it--she's a nutjob and is even worse of a nutjob after HWWV mooned her that one night a long time ago--ha--probably not a good choice but I think he felt like he needed to do that since she stares at us from her upstairs bathroom window all day and night, don't know why, but she's up there or behind that rotting fence always more interested in what we have going on than what she has going on. Yeah, I admit our life must be a heck of a lot more interesting that hers. Shoot, we laugh. We chase the dogs. The dogs chase the squirrels. What does she have going on? A lot of staring out her bathroom window, that's for sure. And guess what? I've been in a house with her floor plan before. Do you know what she needs to do to even look through that window at us? Straddle her bathtub and the sink counter. Yup. She must be a regular Houdini-contortionist. Or, just really wanting to see my husband's behind again.

I don't know; that fence. It really bugs me. It bugs me because even if I try to say hi to her or try to break the ice so we can discuss fixing it for just a few minutes she shuts me down.

I'm waiting for a huge wind to blow that sucker over so we can finally talk about it. And the good news is, whenever we have big winds, they blow toward her side of the fence. Hopefully, when it comes down--and it will--it'll land in her backyard.

I still knit. I just need a break. Those napkins were fun to make. I got the idea from Weekend Sewing by Heather Ross. That book is fantastic. The projects are fun and pretty quick. I think the next thing I'll make is a tunic from her book out of some lovely cotton lawn. But since I've been trying to boycott Jo-ann's with all my might, I'll have to go online to buy fabric.

Regarding Jo-ann: I never leave happy. It is never a good experience. And believe it or not, I used to work there...back in the day, probably 8 years after the last time I saw that boy who is now a grown-up and now our girls play together.

Summer at our House

If it were up to her, Girlfriend would sit in front of the television all day long watching cartoons. And since this is the first summer in years that she will not go to any kind of camp (the economy, yadda yadda), it is up to me to make sure that her brain doesn't completely and totally dry up watching all that television.

She does knit, she does. But she prefers sewing to knitting, so I'm not getting as much done as I'd like. Sure, I could let her fry her brain and all but I figure she has plenty of time to do that, being only eight years old.  So, this summer we have a deal: We work on projects together that she likes and then she can sit in front of the tube for an hour or two while I knit upstairs in front of the tube (I prefer more adult themed shows).

Yesterday, I took out some luscious Quince & Co Sparrow linen. Yes, I'm actually calling linen "luscious." This Sparrow has such a nice feel, even right out of the skein. After soaking the swatch for a few minutes in water and blocking it out, it softened even more. I can't yet decide what to make with this--I have four skeins--but since it's so nice, I can imagine a vest or a wrap. Thing is, I'm so designed out with the past year or two of constant work, I'll have to let it stew for awhile and I'm sure something will come to mind.

And then, sandwiched between swatching and doing a little knitting, we took out her Hello Kitty Janome sewing machine (it's a real machine despite how it looks) and whipped out a pair of shorty pajamas and some pajama pants. Girlfriend helped me sew these for her, but I have to sit behind her on the chair while she sews. Otherwise, she'd manage to get the curtains behind us caught in the machine. That girl has a lead foot, let me tell you.

BTW: The pattern for the shorty pajamas is by Favorite Things.