Friday, 2 November 2007

The secret lives of stitch markers

I know it looks like a Medieval hat, but it is in fact the beginning of my Textured Tunic from Fitted Knits. I'm just about to separate the sleeves from the body and start the box stitch section (for the third time - my inability to count to two is proving a bit of an obstacle). And nope, my tension's not spot on, but this is sort of intentional - the recommended 13 stitches per 4" makes for an overly loose and holey fabric, plus I've come across some people complaining that their tunics came out too large. (My general stinginess and reluctance to buy larger needles may also have something to do with it, but moving swiftly on...) I like the way the Lana Grossa Royal Tweed's knitting up - it's lovely and soft, and light and airy rather than heavy and bulky. (Incidentally, just in case anyone wanted another opportunity to marvel at my general dimwittedness, I always assumed that 'Lana Grossa' was a designer's name. Call myself a linguist...)

As for the title - gaah! Stitch markers are fast becoming the bane of my existence! They may look innocuous enough, but I am convinced that they are pure malice in plastic form, existing solely to derail my knitting as much as is within their power. Mine look rather like those round paperclips that were popular for a while in the 90s, and I can't help but feel that this is a bit of a design flaw, as it means they slip on and off my needle cord at whim. Spacial awareness Wunderkind that I am, I then invariably replace them in the wrong place, and my raglan seams end up meandering all over the place. My doomed Somewhat Cowl was similarly afflicted - do all stitch markers have it in for me, or should I do battle with my inner miser and fork out for some more sensibly conceived ones?

In non-knitting news, I have a flat! I'd show you pictures, but, well, I don't have any, and I imagine the current tenant might object to me traipsing into her room with camera in hand. (For some reason people generally do seem to object when I do that sort of thing.) But it, and my new flatmates, Lisa and Mischa, might make the odd appearance come December. Also - just to backtrack to knitting for a minute - thanks largely to the lovely people at Craftster I've thawed towards the purple cardigan a bit, and a full reprieve may be imminent. If nothing else it's incredibly cosy, and is putting in a sterling performance as an ersatz dressing gown.

2 comments:

Alana said...

I thought Lana Grossa was a designers name too! what does it actually mean?

P.S. I am also a bit disturbed by the fact that this comments section seems to know my name... aparently I have a 'Blogger display name'! what secret and deviously technical tricks have you pulled? and how does it know my e-mail address too?!?

Boffcat said...

I can't take credit for any technical wizardry, alas! Maybe if you were signed in to Google Mail or Google Talk it takes your info from there?

And Lana Grossa is just Italian for 'big wool,' which makes it sound much less desirable, somehow...