A reckoning, sort of

I received the beautiful knitting basket I ordered from the KR Boutique. It is perfect, just perfect. Delicate, yet sturdy, the way a good basket is meant to be. All the little details, from the wheat-colored embroidered lining down to the matching zippered pouch that was concealed inside the zippered pocket of said lining, made me giddy. What to put in this delightful thing? Knitters don't become faint in the presence of inspiration; we take action.

I was inspired forced to sort through some of my other baskets and their overflow, and I am shocked at what I found. Well, not so much shocked. I know me. So I spent an hour or so untangling little messes, muttering, discovering long-lost needles and patterns, and -- here, I knew it was bad, but this bad? -- making a pile of knitting. I can't even call them WIP's. It was a pile of knitting, plain and simple. I had to face it.

It included, in no particular order:

• Branching Out Scarf, 40% completed (and in danger of being abandoned because I'm just not feeling the love)
• The Fabulous Manos Wildflower Cabled Pullover, 25% completed (if it weren't hot as blazes, I'd be working on it) (and it lives in my other favorite knitting basket, the Lantern Moon old-timey, new-fangled one that folds up)
• Washcloth, simple bias garter pattern, 50% completed
• Something circular in blue alpaca, frogged immediately
• Amazing Twining Lace Scarf, 25% completed (I am feeling the love, so it goes right into the new basket)
• Mistake Rib scarf in the yarn I bought in Italy, 50% completed (definitely a mistake, to be frogged)
• Go With the Flow Socks, 70% completed (and usually in the bag I take to work)
• Waving Lace Socks for my friend Virginia, 25% completed (I think that's about as far as they'll get, since she deserves so much better than the mess I was making of these socks)
• A fingerless mitt in Mt. Colors Bearfoot, 95% completed (I want to re-knit the tops because they're too long) (and that means I need to find the second one)
• Another washcloth, an experiment in attaching a lace border, frogged
• Berry-colored socks in some weird pattern that I made up on an trip to visit my mother, who was ill, frogged to eradicate the bad memories
• An inch of something in Elann Baby Cashmere, also begun on a trip to visit my mom, but discarded when nothing went right, frogged
• At least three more socks in the early stages (we're talking cuffs and maybe an inch more)(*sigh*)
• Braids Cardigan in Elann Highland Wool, 40% completed (and waiting patiently for my Manos obsession to subside)

What is going on here? As I said, I know me. I start things when I'm antsy. I'm looking for ways to soothe, or solve, or settle. I cast on, knit until the world calms down, and I'm fine. Or, I knit until I am frustrated and wild-headed; I wasn't going to be fine in the first place. The result: a pile of knitting.

Either way, all these bits and tangled and sometimes beautiful things are Jane. One day I'll tell you a sweet story about my mother and her "Janes" but it will have to wait until I have knitted or written my way out of this bloggy shyness.

Here is my recipe for a good kind of solitude: It's a dark, foggy, humid, hot day, but my AC is on; I have the day off; I have exactly two errands to do; I rented a bunch of episodes of "Prime Suspect"; I have blueberries; I have endless knitting possibilities (see above).

A Fine Day

It's been a relaxing, knitting, blog-fiddling, peach-mango smoothie-drinking kind of day. And it's Sunday, to boot! (You may have noticed a recurring theme here at Not Plain Jane).

The temperature is tolerable with the windows open, and there's even a breeze. I'm almost ashamed to complain about keeping the AC on, because I'm so grateful to have it at all, but too many days without fresh air makes me nuts. I do love to turn it off and throw the windows open.

Besides, Herself enjoys a good nap on the sill, and I like to oblige. She's not setting foot out the door again till the ground is frozen and the deer ticks have retreated, so I do what I can.

Knitting progress is slow, but steady. I've been working away on the Amazing Twining Lace Scarf, which still has me all tangled up in its beguiling symmetry. The pattern just makes so much sense. Isn't that Amazing?

"The song that is irresistible"

I tried to resist the Siren Song of the Amazing Twining Lace Scarf, really I did. I thought, "I'll just cast on and knit a few rows to see if I like how it looks."

We all know where that leads, don't we? We think we'll just swatch a little. We'll test the yarn. We might as well choose the needles while we're at it. We leap overboard.

It's so seductive, this geometry of lace. With each row the pattern builds, twines, and wraps its little tendrils around my knitting fingers. I am caught. Completely ensnared. I tell myself that I won't forget the mostly-finished sock, that I promise to knit a few rows at work. If I can knit just a bit more on this scarf, just to see what happens next, I promise I'll be good, I swear I'll get up and switch the laundry, brush the cat, call the sister.

I am so weak. I'm going back to knitting now.

The day after

I am Harry Pottered out. I have a sore thumb from handling so many books. It weighs about 2.5 lbs. Multiply that by a gazillion, and that's why my thumb hurts.

At least I know my brain still works. It's been contemplating some of the beautiful yarn that my KR Secret Pal sent me (Hi, Mary!). It's a lovely lavender (Supermerino, color 124) from Art Yarns, and I've been looking at it, petting it, and wondering what to do with its 500 yards of wonderfulness. What do you know, someone over at KR posted about a scarf they're making, and I knew immediately that this yarn and this scarf are destined for each other. It's the Amazing Twining Lace scarf in Knitter's Best of Shawls and Scarves.

I've always wanted to knit this scarf, but for the longest time I thought the pattern was "too hard" for me. That's a load of whatever, because I've attempted and accomplished more complicated stuff than this. The chart was holding me back, but I've mastered charts and I've begun to prefer them over line-by-line instructions. Grafting two wide pieces intimidates me, because I loathe the Kitchener stitch. I do know how, but I really, really hate to Kitchener. It's the price I'll pay to make this scarf, because the pattern is beautiful, a little complicated, and should show off the yarn perfectly. Did I mention that I can't stand to Kitchener? I think it might be one of the few things that I have to re-think because I am left-handed.

There's nothing else in knitting that I have had to do differently because of my handedness. In fact I might be in danger of becoming some sort of radical, because when I read KR topics about how hard it is to learn to knit if you are left-handed, I want to reach through the Internet and strangle someone. I taught myself to knit by reading a Coats and Clark's booklet, and I seem to have managed for all these years. What's the big deal?

I am the only left-handed person in my immediate family, the smack-dab-in-the-middle child, and the most earnestly creative one of all five of us. Nobody ever wanted me to conform, no teacher ever forced me to write like a scrinched-up crab in order to master perfect penmanship (and I've been told my handwriting is lovely, thanks to Mrs. Weiss in the 3rd grade), and I will never understand why left-handed children are made to feel like they are hopeless cases when it comes to anything requiring dexterity. They seem to grow up into fearful adults, at least creatively (the "Oh, I could never do that because I'm left-handed" thing). If anything, I am more dexterous than many right-handed people, simply because I learned to be adaptable at an early age.

Back to the Kitchener. I can do it, but it's not natural for my brain to work in the usual direction (from right to left), so I always have to stop and think too much about it. This is why I have developed my own little formula for closing the toe of a sock, without grafting. So there. I'll just have to grit my teeth when it's time to Kitchener the Amazing Twining Lace scarf.

I've made some changes to my blog template, and I'm feeling pretty proud of my HTML-ing. I'm not sure how much I love the little piece of a watercolor that is up there now (here is the whole painting), but at least now I know how to change it. Thanks to Marfa and RoseByAny, I learned a few things this week!