Meet me at The Ryman Wrap from Haus of Yarn - Done!

Worth all the work...

Like all things worked hard for, this result is particularly satisfying.  I wish that you could really see the beauty of the design, but the dark yarn makes it hard to capture in a photo.  The texture—the thing that drew me to the piece in the first place—is a marvelous combination of warm loft and light drape.  Perfect for the Nashville climate, or any other southern town.

And no, it doesn’t curl.  It blocks out flat and behaves exactly like I’d want a shawl to behave.  I’m grateful I went through the trouble of that extra length—it wouldn’t quite wrap the way I like without those additional inches.

It’s got the warmth of wool, but it isn’t bulky.  Just a touch of cover, which is what I look for in a shawl.  This is a versatile piece: the garter stitch middle has a casual air to pair with a pair of jeans, while the lacework edges add enough elegance to top a dress or slacks.  I think it just begs to pair with a creamy fall turtleneck and boots.

You presented a challenge, Haus of Yarn, and I’m glad I was up to it!  Thanks for the experience.

Next up, we meet November’s Reader Who Knits, then it’s on to Northwest Indiana.

Meet me at The Ryman Wrap from Haus of Yarn - Day 6

Are we having fun yet?

So, it seems knitting has yet more lessons to teach me on this project.

When I plot out the episodes for DestiKNITions projects, I set benchmarks within the pattern so that I’ll have something significant to share with you.  I’m not convinced just my prattling on about 50 rows of stockinette will be entertaining for any of you.  And I care about entertaining and informing you.

Sometimes, that goal is motivating.  Other times, it’s downright oppressive.  I can’t tell you how many times this week I’ve stared at the enormity of this project, fingers aching after hours of knitting (while other tasks went undone), and thought to myself, “It’s just knitting.  This is supposed to be fun.”

I’m not saying it isn’t enjoyable—it is—but enjoyable on a deadline looses some of its charm.  Saturday was my birthday, and as a gift to myself I set aside the whole day for making satisfying progress on this oh-so-late episode and binge-watching Gilmore Girls to get my mind in the small-town atmosphere I’ll need for my next book series.  Me, the couch, the yarn, and the remote.

So why did I end the day near tears?

I kept feeling the pressure of needing to get to the end so I can block this and show you all the finished product before an upcoming trip.  And then when I messed up and needed to rip out nearly an hour’s worth of knitting, it all just caved in on me.  It was another one of those days where my husband just looked at me like “this is supposed to be fun for you, right?”  Because it wasn’t looking like any fun.

So I have a decision to make.  All those blogging experts tell me I need to be posting around twice a week (I try to post every four days) to be “engaging.”  That makes sense, but on the other hand who wants to read a post that doesn’t have anything significant to say?   Or that takes something I love and turns it into yet another pressing demand? 

Force this issue, or let it play out at its own natural speed? Really, how many other parts of our life fall under the same quandary?

Meet me at The Ryman Wrap from Haus of Yarn - Day 5

The endless not-yet-end...

This middle took a long time.  

Like For. Ev. Er.  

Yes, I know I lengthened it—and I’m not sorry for that—but by the end of the middle I am looking at over 50 inches of stockinette and garter.  That’s some mind-numbing marathon knitting, folks.  I probably could have binge-watched the entire Harry Potter series and still not have finished the necessary rows.  Not that I would.  Such a feat would have amounted to inviting carpal tunnel syndrome in for tea.

Still, I don’t quite know what I’ve got here yet.  It’s behaving more like a scarf than a shawl because it’s not blocked.  The lacework end is doing that scrunchy bumpy thing all lacework does before you block it.  The sides are curling menacingly.  It’s too big to carry around with any degree of subtlety—I judge all handbags by their ability to hold my knitting, and this thing has outgrown even my handbag.

It never ceases to amaze me how knitting is like other parts of my life.  Ask any novelist what the hardest part of any manuscript is, and most will say “the middle.”  It’s true for me.  Middles are this thing I simply have to slog through, unable to see the ending but knowing vaguely what it’s supposed to look like.  This is a middle to slog through.

Knitting is also like parenting.  It’s both full of possibility and daunting at the beginning, and then the middle is mostly keeping at it despite the this-will-never-end feeling.  In the end, you get a finished product, but most times it’s not quite what you thought you’d get.  Both my kids are simultaneously exactly what I’d hoped and wondrously different than I planned.  They’re both adults, so we’re at or near the “bind off” for both of them, but the middles were long and taxing.

Are middles hard? Yep, in knitting, writing, and parenting.  Needing patience, endurance, persistence, and no small amount of stubborn refusal to quit?  Without a doubt. Worth it?  Absolutely.  

After all, knitting is like a million things.

We’re all knit together, the whole lot of us, and we’ll come out beautiful when it’s finished.  

These final, endless-seeming election days (in the U.S., that is), that’s good to remember.

PS: If you're near San Antonio, don't forget my upcoming event there--I'd love to see you!

Meet me at The Ryman Wrap from Haus of Yarn - Day 4

Managing the middle...

Now we get to the knitty-gritty of length. 

Many shawls aren’t quite long enough for me—particularly the rectangular ones like this—but every inch I add compounds the number of hours its going to take me to finish this.

A scan of the pattern tells me the Section 2 patch of 17-row repeats—17 of stockinette and 17 of garter—forms the true middle of this piece.  I’ve elected to add several more of these repeats in order to achieve the optimal length for a woman of my height.  It’s a guesstimate, however, because blocking will change both width and length.

I’m glad I didn’t choose just a solid yarn—the flecks of color in this Fine Donegal add just the right touch of interest.  I don’t think this wouldn’t work well with a variegated or self-striping yarn, but you might get away with a very subtle tonal fiber.  As it is, I feel like I have just the right yarn for the job.  

I’m worried, as I always am with stockinette pieces, about curling.  Lots of times pieces lay nice and flat when you block them, but curl right up the minute you get them around your neck or across your shoulders.  I’ve already put so much time in to this shawl—with as much to go—that I’d be truly sad to see it curl.

There’s nothing to do but keep knitting and await the outcome.  I very much like what I’ve got so far.

Meet me at The Ryman Wrap from Haus of Yarn - Day 3

It’s dawning on me exactly how much stockinette is called for in the middle of this shawl.  I’m wondering if the occasional rows of garter are for design interest, or just to save the poor knitter from three-odd feet of monotony.  In either case, I’ll take it.  I’m a big believer in subgoals—breaking down a larger project into mini-goals along the way—and those garter ribs serve that purpose nicely.

At first I thought the middle was just a steady rhythm of stockinette and garter, but there’s a bit of design in there.  It took me a few minutes to work out what the actual middle of the shawl was so I’d know where and how to expand it for my height.  Of course, that was unnerving in itself, because expanding it just means more stockinette.  We’re talking a serious volume of knitting here.  Like a whole season of something binge-watched on Netflix volume of knitting.  I’m not sure my life has the capacity to take that kind of hiatus in the next week or so.

Still, texture continues to be my consolation and motivator.  Wool has this amazing ability to be light and substantial at the same time.  Warm, yet still able to drape.  Somehow, the large swaths of stockinette show this off in a way the lace sections cannot.  And so I am encouraged to press on.

And maybe check to see what’s on Netflix.

PS:  Live near San Antonio TX?  Want to meet me at a great book & knitting event? Check out my November 13 appearance here. 

Meet me at The Ryman Wrap from Haus of Yarn - Day 2

Through the windows...

I finally made it through all three repeats of the “window” pattern.  Since I was using stitch markers, things got a bit tricky on row 13 when everything moved over a stitch, but on row 14 it returned to live happily inside the margins I’d set with my stitch markers.  I find it so useful to know I have the right number of stitches inside each repeat of a hard-to-see pattern like this.

Now that I’ve created the edge of my stole, I took the time to weigh it.  Chances are very high that I’ll add a bit to the middle, tall as I am.  Too often a pattern is written without enough length to really suit me.  I need to make sure, however, that I don’t add so much to the middle that I don’t have sufficient yarn to finish the piece.  Now that I’ve weighed it, I’ll know I need to stop when I have about 40g left in order to ensure I have enough yarn to do the second edge.  More likely, I’ll stop at 50 or 60g, just to be sure.  Nothing is worse than running out of yarn with only an inch to go (and yes, I’ve been there.)

Jo Strong's lovely design isn’t going to show off its full loveliness until blocking—I can see that right now.  But quality fiber such as this will block up beautifully!  I may not be able to see it now, but I can feel it in my fingers.  Wool knows how to behave, pure and simple.

Meet me at The Ryman Wrap from Haus of Yarn - Day 1

Projected bliss...

New projects are one of the knitting life’s greatest pleasures.  It’s all about the texture and the color, you haven’t botched any rows yet, and the pattern photo calls to you like a siren.  It’s going to be so perfect when you finish it.  It’s going to be so much fun. You can't wait to start.

The pattern calls for #6 needles, but Meg suggested using #4’s to get the right gauge. I ended up splitting the difference and going with #5.  Being a larger gal, I tend to upsize my needles a bit on most projects to get the scale my broad shoulders need.

Either way, it’s going to take soooooo many rows to do a full shawl in these tiny needles!  Yes, I’m stressing a bit about that, but calming myself with the fact that several feet of this is pure stockinette, and I’ve gotten pretty fast thanks to my mad continental skills.  Still, I’m wondering if I can whip up a cross-country road trip just to ensure I get enough knitting time.  I’ve got a nifty little event in San Antonio in November…maybe I should get my husband to drive?

Seriously, I like that this pattern takes its motif from a real place.  You can see the reflection of the famous Ryman Auditorium windows.

The fiber, Debbie Bliss Fine Donegal, feels so authentic.  Wooly but not scratchy, just a hint of other colors among all that rich chocolate brown.  Warm, yet light.  Perfect for a fall afternoon or evening.

I found it essential, given the dark yarn and my knack for mistakes, to mark each repeat of the window motif with stitch markers.  Those yarn-overs have to line up perfectly or the windows won’t look right, and no one wants to get to the end of a row only to discover something went “off” forty stitches back. Eyeball it if you want, but this knitter’s putting in the safeguards so she isn’t pulling her hair out later.