Stripes

When I think of stripes, I usually think of neat and orderly lines, of like sizes, repeated in a pattern to make a fabric. Sometimes the line sizes vary but they are usually in a pattern of some kind. Lately I have been seeing stripes of a different kind - stripes in nature.

Stripes in the green spring landscape


Stripes on the baby raccoon tails


Undulating stripes on the Jack in the Pulpit


Broken shadow stripes on a leaf from the fern above


Stripes on the chipmunk's back


The stripes I have encountered in nature have made me think about the stripes I make in my knitting. Usually, but not always, they are even and ordered. Usually they repeat, although not always tightly and neatly. Here are some new little stripes I have been fooling with - inspired by the stripes on the creatures and green things I have been observing the past couple weeks as spring unfolds around me. Right now they are just little bits of swatches and ideas. I don't know where they will turn up but it has been fun playing with them.

These stripes were inspired by the chipmunk and the raccoons:


These stripes were inspired by the forest stripes. I was playing with textures and greens, aquas, and brownish greens.


Like with everything I do, some were successful swatches but some weren't. My swatches are a good record that I refer back to over and over again.

Changes

Everything grows up and moves on. Sometimes it is heart-breaking to watch it happen even though there is so much joy in it too. Julia has just a few more days of school left and then she will be moving on to the third grade next fall. I think she is ready and looking forward to it.


She’s had one of her first life lessons this past weekend. The first kitten, “Mr. Charlotte” has gone to his new home in NJ. There was a week of tears and still more flowing when his name is mentioned. My sister Laurie says this is why families don’t get involved with having litters of dogs and cats – because it is just too hard for the kids. It’s also why we have nine adult cats. (Yes, I know - out of hand - thank goodness they spend the majority of their time outdoors.) We just couldn’t bear parting with any of the past litter's funny personalities. But this time I drew the line and they are all leaving. We have homes for two of them that will love them dearly. I'm working on the last home and have two good leads.


After Mr. Charlotte left, his mom Lily Pons looked for him for a couple days but she seems to be over it. I don't think I will be so nonchalant when Julia leaves home. Thank goodness it is still years away but the time certainly does fly. I've been cleaning out some closets - a chore I absolutely abhore - and found bags of baby clothes. Off to the Salvation Army they went - hopefully to find a good home who needs them too.

Chicks A-Cheeping

Visit our kitchen in the springtime and chances are you’ll find a box of peeping, cheeping chicks. Last week, I got “the call” from the post office. My chicks from Murray MacMurray Hatchery in Iowa had arrived. We look forward to this day every year.

This year, we are trying Polish Top Hat chickens. I’ve had these chickens in the past and they are very docile birds who lay white eggs. They live a long time and add a bit of ornate pompom-ness to the coop - something a knitwear designer like me genuinely enjoys. And the kids love looking at them too!


I also ordered some Silkies, a bantam (miniature) breed I have been fascinated by. They grow into white puffballs and remind me of angora rabbits. Another fiber connection.


The last breed we got are called Cuckoo Marans. They are large chickens and rather old-fashioned looking - with grey and white striped feathers. The allure for me is the dark chocolate colored eggs. Won't my egg basket look pretty next year with blue, olive, buff, white and chocolate colored eggs?



It seems that Chicken Fever is sweeping the country. No, I'm not talking some obscure bird disease. Chicken Fever is the lure of keeping your own chickens. It's exciting to see so many new people enjoying keeping birds. I just finished a quick, very fun read by Catherine Goldhammer called Still Life with Chickens. It's about a woman and her daughter starting over in a new house with six chickens. The chickens thread through the book helping the author and her daughter start over.

This morning I took the photos of the chicks in front of some colorfully painted pages from one of our children's books called The Painter who Loved Chickens. Olivier Dunrea paints and tells the stories of a man who follows his dream to live on a farm and raise and paint chickens by selling his artwork of eggs and chickens. It is a delightful story for all ages.

Many years ago in an antique bookstore, I found a book from the 1800's called The history of the hen fever. A humorous record by George P. Burnham. (It has just been reprinted by Michigan Historical Reprint Series.) I read it through quickly - I was fascinated with the fact that in the 1800's, hen fever - or the collecting and keeping of exotic chickens - was extremely popular in the United States. History always repeats itself. Maybe it's time for chickens to have their day.

Lilacs in a Amethyst Glass Bottle

Last May at the Brimfield Flea Market, I snagged three dark purple glass bottles from a vendor who came from Canada. They were right in my price range - not much - and they were a beautiful color. I had visions of piling old-fashioned lilacs into the openings and setting them in my kitchen window. The added bonus was that I have kept them in my windows all year round and they cheer up the landscape with their beautiful color when it is bleak and cold.


Our old-fashioned lilacs have gone by for the year but I've got these photos to remember them by. Now, I'm looking forward to blooms from the Asian lilacs which I have planted since I have lived here. I can't say I am quite as fond of them as the taller, more wild looking shrubs that have probably been living here for over 100 years. But they do lengthen the bloom time.

Here are some recent knitted swatches inspired by the colors in these photos.

Reading... checking.... and more reading

There's been a lot of this


going on for the past couple of weeks. I think it is the last time I'm going to see my manuscript until it is in the actual book form. Luckily the weather was nice and I was able to sit in my little fenced garden and read through all the patterns again. See the kitchen timer there? That's to give me an idea of how long it takes me to do a pattern. The post-its work nicely for corrections - I just have to be sure to write legibly. What you can't see is the little kittens playing at my feet and a hen and a rooster chasing them around. The kittens have just begun going outside and they are treating my overly large hostas as sun and rain umbrellas. So cute.

A knitting book goes through many phases, many of which I know knitters never think about. Mostly knitters gripe about mistakes in the patterns which I realize is totally frustrating. It's not like we authors and the publishers try to make mistakes to frustrate knitters. Sometimes, they just happen.

Just to give you a little insight into what I do to a pattern and then what happens to it after me, here's knitting pattern and book timeline.

1. I swatch and take notes and then write a pattern for a knitter to follow and test-knit.
2. The knitter makes the project, sends it back with notes for changes and mistakes.
3. I tweak the pattern and get it ready for the publisher. I calculate yarn amounts, adjust sizing, and re-check the pattern.
4. I send the entire collection of patterns to my editor at the publisher. For Kristin Knits, there are 27 patterns.
5. The editor sends it to a technical editor. This person is someone who specializes in correcting knitting patterns and making sure everything is okay for the knitter. They also fit the pattern into the publisher's style (every publisher has a different one). A good tech editor is worth their weight in gold.
6. The "tech-edited" patterns go back to the editor at the publisher.
7. A sample layout is designed for all the patterns to fit into. A book designer does this. They are called sample pages.
8. After the layout has been tweaked a few (or a zillion) times, the patterns are dropped into the format. For me, this is a critical time which I have no control over. It makes me kind of crazy to think about and so I try not to. Patterns have to be massaged to fit into the pages given for a particular project. This means words can be cut. I always just hope important words aren't cut so that the pattern is do-able.
9. Finally, the pages come back to me and I get to read them and try to catch any errors, ommissions, etc. I try my best but by this point, I haven't looked at the projects in a very long time and have designed many more since. It almost gets to a blurry, hazy point - almost like trying to remember what I did back in high school or before I had a child. I send the pages back and won't see anything more until I have a finished book in my hands.
10. A copy editor reads everything and tries to make sure everything is perfect.
11. Someone compiles an index.
12. After a few more steps, which I am totally not clear on, the book finally goes to print.

Who was to know it would be so complicated but trust me, it is. As we speak, I am hoping for the best. Hoping for no mistakes. Hoping for beautiful color reproduction. And hoping you and lots of other knitters will like it.

What I missed...... and didn't

I missed the two big trade shows I should be concerned about this weekend. BEA (Book Expo) was in NYC at the Javits Center, and although I was not officially invited, I could have gotten in and it would have been interesting. I've always wanted to go but never have.

The second, and the one I am most familiar with, was TNNA – The National Needlework Association in Indianoplis. It was the big Fall Trade show and for almost twenty years, I went to it, set up the booth, sold the yarn, schmoozed as best I could, and broke down the booth and flew home. I thought about going this year, but decided it wasn’t really worth it financially (cost of going vs. income from being there) and besides I had a lot of stuff to do that seems more important. Going away for three days always sets me back a week.

The biggest disappointment in not going to TNNA was missing the cocktail party that Vogue Knitting was throwing for their 25th anniversary. It’s hard to believe it is 25 years since VK made its most recent appearance. (Back in the early part of the 1900's, Vogue Knitting was a very important part of the yarn industry.) When I was in the the trade, I anxiously awaited seeing the photo of our editorial project using our yarns. A good editorial could make or break your season, hard to believe now. There was always wrangling for position, wining and dining and then some whining with the editors about who got the best editorial of the season and why it wasn't our company. All the stuff, as a knitter, you would never think of. Believe me, it was, and still is, rampant. I just don’t get involved. Give me a chance to show my designing stuff on those pages and I am happy.

This said, I was really thrilled to pick up this book Vogue Knitting: 25 Years of Articles, Techniques, and Expert Advice. What I have always treasured about Vogue Knitting is the quality of the articles, the interviews with knitters I'd like to know and the writing about knitting techniques. As a designer and a past student of anthropology and history, I like to find out information from behind the scenes – what makes people tick… how old traditions began…. On an on. Just give me a good history, human interest, or technique article about knitting and I’m a happy girl. That must be why the stack of magazines persists on my book shelves – I think I have every “new” issue.

But now, I’ve got “the best of” book of techinques and articles. Thanks girls – love it. And of course, I am also glad to be included in the interview pages with lots of women (and a few men) I respect including Deborah Newton, Elizabeth Zimmerman, Norah Gaughan, the list goes on and on....

Here’s to 25 more wonderful, knitterly, stylish, Vogue-ish years.

Who?

The other day, I was rushing off in the middle of the day to go with Julia and her class on their nature field trip. Something flew in front of me. I thought it was a wild turkey. I backed up the car and in a tree perched rather low, I saw this owl.

Once again, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Baby raccoons and now an owl all in two days. I had my camera and snapped. He flew into the woods deeper and I zoomed and snapped again. We sat there staring at each other and then I remembered the field trip. Late again.


After the long winter, it’s amazing how much wildlife we are seeing. Everyone is out and about, including the humans.

Does anyone know what kind of owl he is? I think he may be a spotted owl according to this owl website. I hope I see him/her again. What luck.

I never know

I walk on our peaceful road with my dogs as many times a week as I have time for. Sometimes I do the long walk, sometimes the short. Barely do I ever see a human or an automobile. Even though I am often alone in my thoughts, I am always fascinated with what things I do find.

Sometimes I bring my camera. When I do, it certainly slows my progress because I tend to pay more attention to every little thing when I have it in my hands. Not a bad thing – I’ve just got to have the time to slow down which these days isn’t available. It’s all I can do today, to get to what I have to do, without adding unnecessary things – even though I like to do them.

Last week, when I wasn't quite as frantic, I took a walk without my camera. I was barely 100 yards from the house when I heard a sound I didn't recognize. I thought it was some kind of woodpecker. Upon arriving at the general area of the sound, I looked up and saw some tiny raccoons clinging to a large old maple. I ran back to the house to get my camera, ran back to the tree. By that time, they were almost back in their little hole. Here they are.


Those little guys made my day. I walked further up the road with my mind racing about the little guys. Where was their mom? Were they alone? Did that giant coyote I saw the week before do her in? Were they alone and fending for themselves?

I kept walking up, up, up. I came to the swinging gate. The gate to nowhere. I pass this gate a lot. Sometimes it is creaking. Sometimes it is singing. Sometimes it is gently moving with the breeze. Sometimes it is perfectly still. I doubt the gate has been used in a long time. It's up off the road on a steep slope probably on a patch of earth where the road used to go - before the road was friendly for cows, not cars. Now it swings in the air without a care in the world keeping noone in or out - entertaining me and whoever else is fascinated by this kind of mystery who happens to walk by.


The dogs and I turn around at the top of the hill, me deciding I had better get back to my project at hand - that I have wasted enough time communing with nature. On the way down the hill, just past the swinging gate, I stop at a plant I have been looking at since it sprouted. I thought it was a trillium that hadn't bloomed. I decided to investigate.

This is what I found - a beautiful jack in the pulpit with three incredible blossoms. I am sure I have seen these before in my life - I just can't remember when.

The beautiful blossoms were a lovely dark maroon and cream stripe. The undulating path of the stripes is indescribly gentle and beautiful.


I went home, excited with what I had seen. Glad to have taken a break that day.

A Fiber Filled Weekend

Our little family headed off to Dummerston, VT with friends to meet new friends – M. and Coren and their cashmere goats. What a pleasure. I had never met a cashmere goat in person although I have worn a wee bit of their fiber. Here Juila is feeding one of the mamas some oats. What a nice afternoon. These goats originated in Maine. There's lots to learn about American cashmere goats - although after last summer's goat disaster (see August 8, 2006), I am wary of any goat living here - dairy, mohair or cashmere.


Sunday, we went to the MASS Sheep & Wool Festival and met up with some new and some old friends. It was so much fun meeting Guido of the podcast "It’s a Purl, Man" and his fiance Pumpkin. What fun they are - enthusiastic knitters too! Guido interviewed Julia – which really made her feel special. He asked her about children’s books – quite appropo for a kid who loves reading and books. Then I did a little interview for his podcast also. It was painless and fun.


I got to see the chuppah in progress that Guido and Pumpkin are making for their wedding in October. (That’s it around his neck.) What an amazing thing for a couple to do together– knit a wedding canopy. I can’t wait to see photos! In progress, it was a work of art.

I’ll let you know when the podcast is on line.

Lilac dreams

At this time of year in my garden, there is more blue and purple and pink than any other time. Blues and purples always remind me of the freshness and coolness of spring. I can’t get enough of them. The other day, our old-fashioned lilac started blooming. Behind it was a maple tree which was popping out limey and chartreuse all over. Against the blue sky, it was a beautiful sight.


Knitters often ask me how I put colors together. I've just been doing it for so long now that is hard to think about how I first started. The whole thing is very natural and intuitive. I've written a few articles on color for knitting magazines and you'll find a good color chapter in Colorful Stitchery. Right now, I am thinking about putting together some kind of talk on color that I can set up on my computer and present to interested knitters and designers for a fee.



Nature is one of the easiest places to gather color ideas. I've been taking a lot of photos to document nice color combinations in nature. I will be posting them here on my blog and hopefully translating them into swatches to post too. It's a long range project that I don't have a lot of time for - but I think it will be fun and be a learning tool I can share with knitters and stitchers when I see them in person.



I've found a new blog you might like to read - it's all about color. Here's the link to The ColourLover's blog and website. If you are a color junkie, prepare to spend a bunch of time on this website. Evidently, there are more people fascinated by color than just me. Does anyone out there know any other color blogs?

Cummington is Coming this Weekend

Julia and I will be visiting the local Sheep and Wool Festival on Sunday. For all you Boston fiberholics and knitters, Cummington is a quick drive - about two hours. It is just west of Northampton. "Cummington," as local fiber people call it, is a nice, small-time, family friendly fiber festival - dog trials, sheep shows, and some yarn but not at all crowded. It's all about the kids showing and how much work it takes to be a fiber farmer.

I have a feeling The Farmer is going to be making hay. Yes, it is that time of year already. So much hay to cut, so little time, and a business to run besides. He is hoping that the weather will cooperate and that it can all be put up into round bales and wrapped for sileage successfully. I am, on the other hand, hoping it will rain just enough on Sunday so he will race to get it all taken care of Saturday night.

I have to find a friend to go with if The Farmer can't go - I'm meeting up with Guido from "It's a Purl Man" podcast fame for a quick interview. Julia loves to talk, has been on the radio several times, and would definitely steal the show. I hope it happens because I think podcasting is a great medium .... and with my book coming out in the fall, it might help create a buzz.... I've listened to a bunch of interviews over at Knitcast. But once again, my slow connection lessens my desire to listen to podcasts that are too long. I downloaded an interview of Guido's but had to do it overnite because after 3 hours of downloading it was only 30% finished. All you out there with quick connections, I'm envious.

But then if I had a quick connection, I probably wouldn't be looking at this bucolic sight.


Nor this.


To tell you the truth, it isn't too bucolic nor pastoral - look hard. That sheep is scratching its back on our apple trees. Sheep are so totally destructive. Last week, they were grazing the lawn and The Farmer forgot to remove the Adirondack chairs. You guessed it, they are now a heap of sticks. Outdoor stuff just has a short life around here because of the darn critters. I've got to remember to just keep picking up stuff on the side of the road because anything nice in the yard is toast. Two hundred pounds of sheep times 150 can do a bunch of damage.