Over the weekend, I finished designing Matt’s pullover and cast on! Woo ha! Will he get a sweater for Christmas this year? Stay tuned!

Here’s my vision – saddle shoulders, modified drop sleeves, minimal ribbing on the cast-on edges to stop the curl, knit flat, and seamed. Matt OK-ed a fleece pullover as a model garment (Eddie Bauer has an “XLT” size that fits him pretty well). It’s sufficiently wide and long in the body and sleeve, but the style is more of a set-in sleeve than drop shoulder. Eh, it’s close enough. I muddled with a tape measure, design software, and Ann Budd’s book to come up with the exact silhouette.

I always agonize a little when designing because no one’s ideal sweater really matches a standard schematic. Matt is long in the torso, he’s got a tummy, and his arms go from here to WAY WAY OUT THERE. (We compared appendages long ago and found that his arm is longer than my leg! ) Just for fun, I put 1 of my sweaters over his model garment.

Ha. Ha ha. Single ladies, think about what you’re signing up for when you marry big-n-tall. Especially if he likes handknit clothing.

I took measurements from the mondo swatch – I noted the width of each stitch pattern and the width of the spacers (2 purl stitches between motifs), arranged the motifs to my liking, and calculated how wide it would be with just the motifs. It turned out to be ~8 inches narrower than the target dimension, so I determined the number of filler stitches required to bring it up to the correct width.

It was just the maths. No sweat. I was more worried about measuring inaccurately.

Nothing left to do but cast on – held my breath, dove in. I knit 4 rows of mostly 2×2 rib and began the pattern knitting. Some random notes in list form because WE LOVE LISTS:

1) Binding hems bother me, and I always try different cast on techniques to get around that problem. This time, I opted for a crochet cast on (exactly the same as the unzipping provisional cast on that you do directly onto the needle) and used a hook that was 1.5 mm larger than the needle size. In hindsight, I think I should have used the same size hook, but we’re talking galloping horse precision here, I think it’s not worth it to rip and redo.

2) I’m not sure if I like the look of mini-rib at the bottom of the sweater. Maybe an applied I-cord would have been better. Again, not going to go back.

3) Although I knit the entire mondo swatch without a cable needle, I think I was pushing the limits with the 7-st crossings. I’m sacrificing principle for pragmatism and am using the needle for the less stable crosses.

4) It takes me about 15 to 20 minutes to do 2 rows, depending on the complexity of the row.

5) I cannot memorize a 28-row cable.

Preliminary results – looks like I measured correctly.

I like that handmade soap is less drying to my skin, but the $4 price for a 3 or 4 oz bar makes me cringe a little. In a fit of I-can-make-that-itis (inflammation of my I-can-make-that?), I thumbed through Susan Cavitch’s book on natural soapmaking and decided that my 11 years of benchwork probably qualified me for the project.

I found organic coconut oil at my local food co-op, and I ordered the other oils online, enough to make a 3-4 lb batch. The coconut, olive, and palm oils were organic, but the wheat germ oil, beeswax, buttermilk, and honey were not. I found pure sodium hydroxide at the supermarket (drain opener), but I don’t think it’ll be available there much longer. Red Devil drain opener is no longer made with sodium hydroxide because it is an ingredient in the production of meth. Or so I hear. After reading and thinking and reading some more, I made soap!

I used Cavitch’s “Queen of the Nile” milk and honey recipe sans oatmeal, but I added slightly more sodium hydroxide. The final superfat level was 7% instead of 10%. I double-checked my numbers with the lye calculator here. This recipe made enough soap to fill a 9″ brownie pan, lined with mitered freezer paper, nearly to the top. I insulated it overnight and sliced the bars the next morning.

A few things happened that I wasn’t expecting:

a) Milk and honey bring the temp up a lot; I started at 90ish F and ended at over 120 F. It took ~45 minutes to trace, instead of the 10 to 15 minutes that seems to be the norm, and I think the longer time was attributable to the high temperature.

b) I added milk and honey to the lye before adding any oil, and the mixture instantly turned dark terra cotta red. The color “matured” to the brown you see in the photo. If I do this again, I’ll probably add it at the trace and hope for a lighter color.

c) Polder thermometers generally suck and will crap out (it read “888.8 F/C”) when you really want to measure the temperature of things. This is the third Polder thermometer and second model to fail on me. No more Polder ever again. (I want a Thermapen!)

d) Static can make fine granular lye crystals dance and fly to places other than where you want them. I was very glad that I had set up my mixer in the bathroom. I picked that location because it has pretty nifty ventilation relative to the kitchen.

e) By not adding any essential oils, I can smell the true nature of soap. The true nature of soap is a little funky.

The recipe called for beeswax. It looked really dirty when I received it, so I thought I’d remove the dark bits (bee parts?!) by repurifying it.

If you ever have to repurify beeswax, here’s the basic process – dump wax into a pot of water, boil until the wax floats to the top; solid bits stay mostly in water. Let it cool to warm bath temperature. (Matt, upon seeing it coagulating: “Is that weird pudding?”) When the wax is warm but no longer pliable, flip the solid disk over and scrape the brown residue off the underside.

The soap needs a few weeks to cure. I stare at it every day, wondering if it will transform into something I’d want to rub on my skin. I’ve been crumbling and wetting tiny grains in my hand; it does lather, but my hands feel a bit dry and awful afterward (not unexpected – it is lye, after all). But if it works, I spent $25 and 1 evening to get 3 lbs of glycerin-rich soap. If not, well, it was an interesting experience.

Maybe there’s still a little lab-rat lurking within me after all.

Listening to MPR the other evening, I heard the local newscaster say that a Minnesotan had failed to medal* in some event. My first thought – many Minnesotans have failed to medal in the Olympics. I daresay that 99.999% of us have not done squat at these games.

And then I thought, maybe someone had not meddled properly in the Olympics. He was going to create so much mischief – streaking naked across the snow under the ski jumps, popping loud bubble gum bubbles during the sensitive moments of ice dancing, playing the wrong anthem at the award ceremonies.

That Minnesotan, he has failed to meddle.

–
*According to Merriam Webster (11th ed), “medal” was first used as an intransitive verb in 1979.

I finished the mondo gauge swatch for Matt’s sweater.

Nice texture, huh? Isn’t it mad how a worsted spun 4-ply yarn shows cables?

Anyone who has knit Alice Starmore’s “Mystic” sweater (the one made with Rowan Denim, has the anchors on it) will recognize the brick pattern on the left and the 7-stitch twisted cable on the right. The giant argyle-ish motif is adapted from traditional patterns, and the narrower interlocking diamond and ring thing is my own unvention.

Wish I’d had the forethought to include something in the photo for scale, but (from memory) it’s about 8 or 9″ tall and well over a foot wide. I dressed the swatch by wetting it, lathering up with Dawn dish detergent, rinsing, and drying flat. I didn’t press, steam, pin, or even measure the swatch to make sure I had square corners – hence the slight crookedness of the twisted-stitch cable… And looking closely, I think the swatch is a little wider on the right side than the left.

I was nearly ready to publish the cable charts, but I started having problems with the charting program last week (namely, crashing every 30 sec, grrr…). I’ve been emailing with the software author, and I haven’t tried her suggestions yet – so no charts today!

My friend Barb the JamLady has a nice network of foodie pals. She knows some of them from the Usenet cooking group (she likes to convert Imaginary Friends Inside the Computer into Real Friends), whereas others are friends from childhood, from her husband, from work, and who knows where else. Every other month or so, one of these guys (Steve D.) picks a place, Barb organizes and invites, and we converge at a nice restaurant and EAT LIKE PIGGIES. I always enjoy these gatherings, the people are really nice, and everyone makes Matt and me feel welcome. This past Saturday, we feasted on Chinese food until we could barely groan out of our seats. If you’d like to vicariously enjoy our meal, Barb photographed all the dishes and posted them on her website.

On Sunday, I went to the monthly spin-in at Creative Fibers, hosted by Shelley H. (Photos, etc at Chris’s site.) It’s nice to hook up with other fiberists, and it’s usually the only time I practice cotton spinning on my charkha. If you’re curious, I absolutely suck at charkha spinning.

I love spending time with experienced spinners. Now I’m not knocking all y’all who just bought the first raw Romney fleece and are “industriously pinching” out the first yarns on the boat anchor spindle, but it’s nice to talk to people who’ve been around the block a few times and can teach me a few things. (And dammit, why don’t any of you ‘blog already?!) Last fall, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that Charlotte Q., who I think I first met while I was in grad school (she thinks we met at a NY Knit Out in 1999? 2000?), had moved somewhat recently to MN and in fact lived pretty close to Minneapolis. She started coming to the spin-in (btw – this woman has eleven wheels, people! ELEVEN wheels!), and we would have nostalgic chats about the East Coast Fiber Scene.

Sunday evening, after the spin-in was over, I reunited with my long-lost pal, Brian S. Get this – Brian and I went to HIGH SCHOOL together. We totally hadn’t kept in touch at all in the intervening *cough* years (OK, nearly 14) since graduation, but we found each other after Chrys, Collector of Olde Frynds From Niles North, made the connection for us.

Brian looked exactly the same as he did the last time I’d seen him. (What’s the secret, dude?) Anyway, Brian and Girlfriend Jaime gave us a driving tour of parts of the city, we ate at a cute Japanese restaurant, and polished off the evening with gourmet cupcakes.

Wotta a great weekend! It’s so weird to move to a place where I know absolutely no one, only to discover that I’ve had old friends living here for the last forever. Very cool.

Just a quickie – we’ve had a damn mild season this year. But today, today, we finally have a taste of Minnesota winter.

Baby, it’s cold outside.

Since we moved, I’d been reluctant to reinstall my magnetic knife bar in the kitchen. I’ve lugged it from apartment to apartment since my junior year of college, and it was really showing its age.

I considered traditional knife blocks but decided against them because they always have more slots than I need. I browsed design sites and came across a few interesting ideas:

Click on the photos for more information

On some level, I prefer to keep knives out of sight or out of reach (I’m anticipating that children will visit or occur one of these years), but I didn’t have the drawer space to dedicate to a wave rack. I considered a Wusthof Swinger, but since I like to use 2 large knives, I knew it would not work for me (it only has 1 large slot). I investigated pull-down drawers, but we have under-cabinet lights that are spaced too closely for anything to be installed there.

Then I saw this knife block designed by Martin Robitsch (and angels began to sing):

The box is filled tightly with bamboo skewers. How clever is that?! Since I have no woodworking skill (yes, even a pine box is beyond me), I emailed Jim Snell (husband of Lynn, who runs Spinderellas carding services) to see if he would make me a custom box out of nicer wood. We discussed sizes, prices, types of wood, and turnaround time.

This is the end result. It is made of curly maple and trimmed with bubinga. Gorgeous!

It’s large enough to hold all the knives I use regularly (and a few more). Right now, I’ve got my 2 chef knives, 1 bread knife, a crappy stamped backup chef knife, a paring knife, and boning knife. There’s clearly room for future knives, but I love how good it looks no matter how many (or how few!) are in there. It’s tall enough that tiny kids will have difficulty accessing the knives without climbing on the counters, and the footprint is markedly smaller than the average angled knife block.

Can you tell I likes me a full-tang knife?

I wasn’t sure how many skewers I’d need to fill the box tightly. The knives should “float” on the skewer tips without sinking to the bottom of the box (no damage to knife points), but you don’t want skewers flying out every time you pull a knife. They are installed point-side up to facilitate smooth parting when I return a knife to the box. I bought 3,200 skewers and ended up using 2,500 of them. (Skewer-wise, I think I’m set for a lifetime of barbecues.) Skewers can be washed or replaced as needed, too.

The grain of the wood is positively luminescent. It’s tricky to capture with my camera, but here’s an image from an angle:

I don’t know if Jim is going to be making this box a regular part of his line, but I urge you to contact him if you’re interested. Please see update below. He was quick, professional, and did beautiful work. I am very satisfied with my knife block. (We won’t discuss how I was skipping around the kitchen and hugging it to my chest.) Thanks, Jim! It was a pleasure to work with you.

UPDATED TO ADD: Please see the comment below from the designer, Martin Robitsch.

I’m thisclose to finishing up what remains of the pre-Jennifer roving. I’m not 100% positive, but I think I have less than 1 lb left to spin. Whew! Spinning up almost an entire fleece (I gave away a few ounces here and there) sure takes time. Most of the yarn shown below was sold ahead of posting, but I still have 2 skeins for sale (slightly different grist – I didn’t spin to a standard this time, d’oh! – but they should still match fairly well).

We loves handspun yarn

Knitting time has been scarce, so I’ve hired someone to help me out.

Just kidding, it’s a Bearington Bear! She’s carrying a ball of yarn, needles, and a tote that says “Knitting is my bag.” My cousin Claudia picked this up for me – I love it! (No, Mom, I’m not too old for stuffed animals.) Among other things, Claudia also gave me a heated windshield ice scraper, tell me how cool is that!? I can’t wait for it to snow again.

My aunt Mary is an incredibly talented textile artist. Here’s a photo of my Uncle Larry and her at Cousin Ken’s wedding reception.

Auntie is a master sewer and designs clothing, too. In fact, she made wonderful outfits for my sister and me when we were kids. (Btw, I asked her about my crooked seam problem, and she thinks it’s because I need more practice. Duly noted!) In addition to sewing, she does beautiful hand embroidery. She gave us a gorgeous housewarming gift to bring back to Minnesota.

Isn’t it magnificent? (Please don’t mind the little bits of glare on the glass in the photo.) It’s a large piece – about 1 1/2 ft tall, over 1 ft wide. This is a type of Japanese embroidery called “bunka shishu.” As far as I understand it, bunka shishu is in the family of punch embroidery.

Look at the details:

The stitching is so even, and the tension is just perfect. From a distance, it looks like a painting! I also really like the subject matter. We don’t have a lot of Japanese art in the house yet, and this helps fill the niche. I had her sign it before we left. It’s an honor to have one of her pieces in our home.

Last weekend, Matt and I traveled to LA for the wedding of Cousin Ken. Of all my cousins, I am closest to Ken – we’re almost the same age, and with his medical school and residency, I think he and I spent nearly the same amount of time in graduate school. (‘Course, he seemed to enjoy his education more than I did, but let’s not go there.) Ken is one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet, he’s an eternally glass-half-full and where’s-the-silver-lining sort of optimist. He married a wonderful lady podiatrist that he met during his residency, Mary. Two doctors, woot! Can you imagine the kids they’re going to have?

They had a Catholic ceremony in Mary’s family’s church, and a reception followed at a hotel in Long Beach. Ken is a huge Disneyland fan (no, really – in his younger days, he’d go there every month at least), and they had a Mickey&Minnie cake topper. Actually, the whole cake was hilarious:

During the cake cutting, they put on a top hat and bridal veil with mouse ears.

My Dad’s 3 sisters live in California, and their families are all still in the area. Matt and I hadn’t seen some of the cousins and an uncle in 5 years, it was so nice to have a family reunion. My parents are on the left (standing) with the rest of Dad’s siblings and their spouses. Everyone is so cute, it kills me. (Just for reference, my Mom is about 5′ 2″.) Whenever I hug any of them, they’re so tiny, I worry about breaking their bones with my embrace.

Matt towers head and shoulders over all of us. Family pictures with him crack me up because his face is usually at the top of the frame, and everyone else shows up somewhere in the middle of the photo. Case in point:

Matt, he comes from a taller peoples

Congratulations, Mary and Ken! May you live happily ever after!