Dogs Steal Yarn

A question of closure...

Thumper's Accordion jacket is nearly done. All it needs is some way to close it around his chubby little bod.

The pattern calls for a zipper. This is the third time I've knit this sweater (the first two as gifts for other people's babies) and I installed a zipper for those first two. I had assumed, when I cast on for this sweater, that I would also install a zipper this time. Something about this one, though--maybe it's the earthy shade of green (I know, you can't see it in this photo. I'll take a brighter pic for the FO shot.) or the fact that I knit it without any stripes--I look at this sweater and I think it wants buttons instead of a zipper. Big wooden buttons. Don't you think?

Here's what I'm wondering, though. I've never tried to use buttons to close a ribbed garment before. Will the ribbing cause the sweater to gap between the buttons? Or will a garter button band knitted on provide enough structure to let the sweater lie nicely along the front?

The buttons would be cuter than a zipper, but not if they make the sweater pucker and pull across his tummy. Thoughts?

quick note...knitblog surfing while nursing...

Have you seen Bonne Marie's new pattern?

I'm SO going to knit that. I've got at least three options for it in the stash, too...

More knitty gifts!

Good news! The baby won't freeze this winter!

Our cousin Sarah (Billy's cousin, technically, but I love her too and so she is my cousin by marriage and yarn) knit this beautiful sweater for Thumper using Dale Baby Ull and size 0 needles. Zeros, folks. Now that's love. And she did something really thoughtful that I'm going to do for knitted gifts from now on: she included extra buttons and yarn for mending. I don't know what pattern she used. You'll have to go to her blog and ask her... Oh, and the fabulous tiger socks? Also knit for Thumper by Sarah, before he was born.

Here's a closeup. I couldn't get a decent shot of the buttons, which are adorable little blue ducks, but at least you can see the stitch pattern here.

And yet more knitty goodness for the kid! Check out the socks Mindy made for him. He's quite fond of them, as you can see:

I don't know why I haven't managed to get my act together and take photos for you of the Donkey Jacket in progress. I'm also knitting an Accordion jacket for him, and have the back and one and a half fronts done. And yet...no photo. I guess it's just that it's so much more fun to take pictures of the baby than to document the WIPs.

I want to have the Accordion jacket done in time for Rhinebeck. We're 95% sure we'll be there--me and Thumper AND Billy, that is. We're planning to make it a family daytrip, and keep it pretty low-key. Hug some friends, fondle some yarn, introduce Thumper to the strange alien muppet critter that is the alpaca... If I'm wearing knitwear at all (assuming it's cool enough to wear knitwear) it'll be something from last year or earlier, as I haven't made myself a sweater since I found out I was pregnant last fall. (The last sweater I made for myself was the lopi cardi. I was already pregnant in those photos but didn't know it yet. Strange to look back on them now and think about everything that was ahead of that girl in the coming year.) But it would be fun if Thumper could wear a new sweater to Rhinebeck. We'll see...it means getting enough knitting time to not only finish the sweater but to also install a zipper.

A Knitty Miracle

Billy doesn't like to wear sweaters. Can you imagine? Married to a knitter and he doesn't wear sweaters. I've knitted him socks, hats, a scarf (the scarf was left in a cab and he didn't really like the hats, but these sins have been forgiven because he shows his handknit socks off to all his patients)...but I've always wanted to knit him a sweater.

Well, maybe I was looking especially cute this evening (Was it the unwashed, frizzed out hair or the baby puke on my shoulder that made me so alluring?). Or maybe living with this much yarn finally got to him. Dunno. Don't care why. Get this: I found a sweater that he likes, that he would wear, that he wants me to knit for him! Okay..."wants" might not be the most accurate verb. He likes it enough that he'll go along with my knitting it and will, indeed, wear it. Close enough to "wants" for me.

Yes, it was Avast that won him over.

So here's the thing. We've been together for four and a half years and married for two, yet this is the first sweater I'm knitting him. And seeing as he doesn't really like sweaters (It's his mother's fault. Long story, but yes, now I worry that Thumper will someday hate sweaters and it will be my fault) it may be the only one I get to knit for him. Which makes me want to...well...make this sweater a damn good one. Makes me want to...I don't know...use Rowan or something. Not necessarily Rowan, per se, but good yarn. The right yarn. You know what I mean.

The pattern calls for Plymouth Galway. Have any of you knit with the stuff before? What's it like? Is it good enough to be used for The Only Sweater I Ever Knit for the Father of My Child?

It needs to be worsted weight because I don't want to risk the thing not fitting well by bringing math into it. I have to be able to get pattern gauge with whatever yarn I end up using. He likes the gray in the pattern pic, so it has to come in gray. It has to not totally suck to knit. Should have a sort of "masculine" hand, if you know what I mean--silk/alpaca blends, not really the right feel. Needs to not cost so much that Thumper can't go to college. Any suggestions?

Or should I just buy the Plymouth Galway?

Knitter Safari

By Thumper Dogsstealyarn, Adventure Baby

I set out recently on my most dangerous quest yet—to find and document knitters in the wild. I’m already quite experienced in the ways of the domestic knitter, having lived my entire life with my mother. But surely the tame house knitter is a different creature altogether than the majestic free-range knitter set loose in its natural habitat.

Ladies and Gentlemen: please do not attempt this on your own. I prepared for this safari for three months, and went in armed with a protective layer of Baby Cuteness and a strong Willingness to Be Dressed in Knitwear. Even with all this in my favor, I still approached with caution, especially when I found them gathering in groups.

The first leg of the journey brought me to The Point, where the wild knitter can often be seen drinking coffee, eating baked goods, and wrestling a fellow knitter to the ground over who gets the last apple and brie sandwich.

Would you look at this glorious specimen?

The one who calls herself Iris was especially nice to cuddle, and the one next to her called Cassie? Note how she holds herself aloof when in a pack, paying attention to the knitting rather than basking in my extreme Baby Cuteness. Well, I’m here to tell you folks, I’ve cuddled with her too.

This one was called Melissa. She had put her knitting in Time Out just before this picture was taken. I was unable to find any reference to this phenomenon of “time out” in any of my guidebooks.

Sometimes wild knitters will camouflage themselves, dyeing their hair the color of yarn, all the better to stalk their prey. Fearsome yarny predators, but I am unafraid!

The wild knitter can be extremely unpredictable and dangerous. This is why I urge—nay—IMPLORE you to leave work such as mine to the professionals. A prime example here. This one tried to eat my head.

A special expedition was made to Barnes & Noble. Word had reached our camp that a most rare specimen would appear there—a rogue element notorious for her ability to lure the common house knitter from its lair, out into the wild. Behold the glory of the Nomadic Yarn Harlot!

The final leg of our journey brought us to Union Square for something the knitters called a Knit Out. Normally a sedate spot frequented by skateboarders and farmers, on this day the place was swarming with knitters in the wild. The photographic evidence was simply too graphic to post here. Overwhelmed, I retreated to the playground, where I found several knitters and their offspring at play.

By carefully mimicking their behaviors and sounds, I was able to convince this family that I was one of them. I was amazed by how readily they accepted me into their group. The one with the cool T-shirt is Regina. She obviously bears all the telltale markings of a knitter. But here’s a fun fact for you up-and-coming researchers—her son is a knitter too.

This one tried to throw me off by dressing like me. She said she was also researching the knitter in its natural habitat, but later on I saw some yarn in her bag. She’s one of them!

And then they tried to eat me again!

Frankly I’m a bit worried about how my mother will behave at home now that she’s tasted a bit of her old freedom.

Join me next time, won’t you, when I travel deep into the backyard to observe the sniffing habits of the Brooklyn Italian Greyhound.

Until then, remember, I am Thumper and I am irresistible.

On this rainy gray Friday...

...Thumper would like to remind you...

...to stop and smell the fabric flowers with the rattley thingies and the leaves that make the crinkle crinkle sound.

The best knit plans...

Remember this sweater? It's the 12-month size, but I figured Thumper would wear it this winter, around six months.

Well..he'll be three months old on the 14th.

I don't think this sweater will fit come winter.

Ditto for the Baby Yoda Sweater.

He's already, sadly, outgrown the sweater Alison knit for him. I think the one Andrea made will be the right size come December...but that leaves him with just one sweater. And the child of a knitter surely needs more than one sweater.

The lining of the donkey jacket is nearly done. (Pictures soon, I promise.) Once that's done, I'm thinking I'll either knit ChildHood or Accordion, or both. And maybe a raglan cardi. Stephanie sent me some fantastic monkey buttons that I'm itching to use...

Sunday afternoon: Thoughts on the novel revision...

Lying in bed, nursing my baby, it occurs to me—perhaps something I thought I already knew. The emotional weight and understanding of a line of prose depends so much upon the experience the reader brings to it. Now that I’m a mother, a character saying something that once would have seemed a very simple statement to me: “because he is my son” now carries so much more meaning. There’s a depth to that statement—everything it means to be a mother to a child—that really can’t be expressed in words. “He is my son” carries with it—for a parent—the weight of fierce, profound love. For a reader who is not a parent, it simply cannot convey that level of meaning.

Likewise, when I write: “when her father died,” as the daughter of a father who died young, I understand it in a very different way than the lucky son or daughter whose father is still around.

So the question then becomes, How do I, as a writer, convey the emotions and meanings I want my reader to understand, given the wide variety of experience my readers will bring to the page? It seems so obvious, doesn't it? That one would need to be aware of this? And yet...I think this has been one of the stumbling blocks in the sale of my novel—that not every reader felt the emotional impact of the protagonist’s story. Emotional cues that I understand as the daughter of a dead father simply were not picked up by those whose fathers lived to see them into adulthood. I need to present it in a way that's more universally grasped. Something I need to think about as I move forward with this revision…

We're all alive and well here. It's been quiet because there hasn't been much to say. The days all look a hell of a lot alike, you know? But here's a brief rundown on what we've been up to, formatted a la our dear Carolyn:

Reading: Ghost Dance by Carole Maso. Her book The Art Lover blew me away. This one, not so much, but I'm sticking with it for now.

Re-reading: Madame Bovary. I hadn't picked it up in years and had forgotten how very much I love it.

Listening to: The latest Jolie Holland. And cooing. We do a lot of cooing around here.

Watching: Thumper discover his hands and feet and learn to grip things, which promptly find his mouth.

Kicking: the diet coke habit. I had a panic attack yesterday that seemed to come right on the heels of my downing a 20 oz dc. That's quite enough of that, I think.

Going: to parent/baby yoga. Thumper loves it. I love it. It feels great to be getting back to yoga. And being around twenty-odd other babies and mommies provides ample proof that no matter what your kid is doing, how fast/slow they're growing etc, it's probably well within the range of perfectly normal.

Knitting: the donkey jacket. Yes! Actually knitting! I've finally mastered the knitting-while-nursing thing. Now that the weather's starting to cool, I'm wishing I'd knit a few more sweaters for Thumper while I was pregnant. After the donkey jacket, I think I'll knit him a quick cardi before casting on for the IK sweater.

Oh...boss wants to nurse. I'll post a pic of the donkey jacket in progress soon.