more tiny : babies, knits, and encampments

Spring must be Baby Season, what with all of the friends and family anticipating new arrivals, or recently having welcomed them. Boy, girl, girl, twin boys, and even a few "as yet unidentified." With the chaos that is the end of the school year, I needed a good reason to get my hands moving in some sort of soothing rhythm, a way to calm the interior while the exterior runs circles. Nothing does that so well as baby knits -- small, fast, and incredibly soft.

In the spirit of all that tiny, one of my girls has been spending a lot of time out back. I didn't even realize what she was up to until I stumbled across her Encampment.

Teepees and canoes, fire pits and ponds. She even managed to shift the dirt in one planter enough to provide for the ever-crucial stable. Reminds me of all the summer hours I spent making small encampments in the backyard of my parent's home (although I seem to remember actually lighting the fire pits -- shhh, don't tell her that. We're on High Fire Alert around here). Sometimes "the good old days" don't seem that far off after all.

ruffle sweater dress (a pattern... sort of)

I am not a very experienced knitter. Sure, I've undertaken some pretty advanced projects, but I had no idea what I was doing or why - I simply followed the pattern. (Granted it's quite possible I am alone in my knitting theory ignorance.) But the insight I've gained via many projects has been ever so helpful in modifying knitting patterns, or even creating my own pattern. In case there are others out there who look at a pattern like a recipe to be followed exactly, perhaps my explanations of what I did and why will be helpful.

I made up this pattern as I went along. There were a few things I would change about it were I to knit it over again. This pattern is for the dress as I knit it, but I've included some suggestions for potential ways to improve it, as well as resize it.

Size: 2 (my daughter just turned 3 and she can still wear this). Her chest measurement is 20 inches and this dress is about mid-thigh - I designed it to be worn over pants or a skirt. Knit yours longer if you'd like.
Yarn: An unraveled wool sweater from Goodwill. Sorry I can't provide a specific source for the yarn.
Gauge: 15 sts/4 inches
Needle Size: I think I used a size 8, but you should simply use the needles and yarn that will yield the correct gauge.

I knit this in the round. When I finally finish knitting something, it pains me to have to sew the pieces together before it is useable. However, you could definitely knit it in two pieces (front and back) and then join the pieces together. The cast on is brutal, as you'll be casting on four times as many stitches as you'll be knitting with after the first two rows, but it will quickly become a much more manageable number of stitches.

Cast on 496 stitches (You see? Brutal.)

First note: This dress ended up a bit wider than an A line, so the sides ended up hanging down further than the middle. If you like the way it looks, great! If not, you could reduce the number of stitches you cast on. If I were to try for a more traditional A line, I would probably cast on about 384. Your cast on number should be divisible by 8.

bottom ruffle - to create this we will rapidly decrease the number of stitches, like gathering a longer length of material onto a shorter amount.

Row 1: Knit (remember, I knit this in the round, so all the stitches were knits. If you knit a front and a back separately, you'll alternate with knits and purls in order to achieve a stockinette stitch.)
Row 2: k2tog (all stitches). Now you'll have 248 sts.
Row 3: k2tog (all stitches). Now you'll have 124 sts.

A-line body of the dress - to create the A-line, you will use the measurement of the bottom of the dress, the chase measurement, and the length of the dress to determine how often you will decrease.

After my first 3 rows, I had 124 sts. (or 62 sts for the front and 62 sts for the back). My daughter's chest measurement is 20 inches, so according to my gauge (15 sts/4 inches) I would want to end up with 76 sts (20 * 15/4 - I rounded up to a number divisible by 4) at the armpit (or 38 sts for the front and 38 sts for the back). I wanted the length of dress from the armpit to be 13". So, I needed to decrease one stitch on each side of the front and on each side of the back about every inch.

124 - 76 = 48 (number of sts to be decreased)
48 / 2 = 24 (number of sts to be decreased each on the front and the back)
24 / 2 = 12 (number of sts to be decreased on each side of the front and on each side of the back)
12 sts / 13" = about 1 stitch per inch

Row 4: k all stitches
continue knitting for 1 inch.
next row: ssk, k58, k2tog, ssk, k58, k2tog (120 sts)
continue knitting for 1 inch
next row: ssk, k56, k2tog, ssk, k56, k2tog (116 sts)
continue knitting in this pattern until you have 76 sts and about 13" of length.

armholes and keyhole opening at back
next row:  bind off 3, k32, bind off 6, k32, bind off 3
You will have to stop knitting in the round at this point. Place half of the sts on a holder. Continue knitting the other half - these will form the back of the dress.
next row: k all sts. Continue knitting all sts until it measures 3" from the bottom of the armhole.
next row: k14, bind off 4, k14
Place half of these sts on holder.
next row: k all sts. Continue knitting all sts until it measures 2 1/2" from bottom of the keyhole opening.
Repeat with the other 14 sts that you placed on the holder.

front upper bodice
k all sts until it measures 5 1/2 " from the bottom of the armhole.

shoulder seams
Using the kitchener stitch, join the last 7 sts of the back to the first 7 sts of the front bodice.
Do the same to join the first 7 sts of the back to the last 7 sts of the front bodice.

buttonhole and ruffle neck
Starting with the 7 sts on the back to the left of the keyhole opening, k2tog, YO, k5, pick up 1 or 2 sts at the left shoulder seam, k32, pick up 1 or 2 sts at the right shoulder seam, k7
next row: p1, M1p, p1, M1p ... continue for all sts
next row: k1, M1, k1, M1, ... continue for all sts
next row: bind off all sts

Attach a shank button opposite the buttonhole created by the yarn over.

The end.

fingerless gloves and books

Having just returned from a wonderful visit to my mom and dad's house, I have a few observations. Observation number one: my parents have an impressive collection of books. Not only the quantity, but the beautiful vintage books, many of them from when my dad was a child. The books that my kids cart out during our visits bring me back to my childhood. And yet with all their nostalgic and probably actual value (for the extra vintage ones), my mom never places the books out of the children's reach. They reside on the bottom two shelves, awaiting the sticky, none-too-gentle fingers. More often than not, those little fingers eagerly bring them to Nana for lazy, lengthy story-time sessions.

Which brings me to observation number two: my mom is a reader. She loves reading on her own. She loves reading aloud to other people. Not only does she love to read, but she's excellent at it. Most of the Sunday afternoons I remember growing up were spent lounging in the living room while she read Tolkien's tales of hobbits and rings. How many times she must have read those books to us. If she ever picks up The Hobbit while we're visiting, I still thrill at her reading of the three trolls, who in her rendition have cockney accents.

Fingerless gloves for my mom, interwoven with fairytale vines, will hopefully keep those reading sessions going strong for years to come.

more (teeny) tiny: doll knits

Judging by all of the matching outfits in that doll magazine that keeps coming (and coming and coming) to our house, I'm going to venture a guess that it's not just my girl who loves to coordinate with her inanimate wee babe. So a little Christmas knitting has been happening around here on the sly.

Remember the sweater I made for this girl? Well, here's my attempt at a matching ensemble.

It just so happens that Premie-sized knits are perfect for a 12" doll. I created a modified version of the "cardigan, beanie, & mittens" in Tina Barrett's Natural Knits for Babies and Toddlers -- shortening the sleeves and adding bobbles and eyelet holes toward the top. I also kept all the buttons near the collar, rather than spacing them down the entire front.

Not an exact match, but close enough. Hopefully.

But. Now that the doll has a hat, it looks like I'm going to have to cast one on for the girl. (I'm thinking that Soulemama's Favorite Hat might be a good, quick, option -- close enough, do you think?) Of course, if I've done a sweater for the doll to match the girl, and I'm doing a hat for the girl to match the doll, does that mean I'll have to do fingerless gloves for the doll . . . to match these ones for the girl?

Oh my. Just don't say the word "socks."

Black Friday ride (and a sweater dress)

The day after Thanksgiving found us expending our energy rather than spending money. It was the longest bike ride yet we've attempted with our five-year-old on her own bike rather than in the trailer. And it may have been a bit overambitious.

Our bike riding enthusiast, though easily distracted (and with an inevitably itchy nose that must be scratched an average of two times every block we ride), is a trooper. She thrills at moving herself from point A to point B on a bike. I'm her enthusiastic cheerleader each morning as I bike alongside her, pulling the trailer behind. She's her own coach, willing herself on with shouts of "Come on, come on, you can do it!", "Almost there!", and "Don't stop! Don't stop!". That day that, careening down a hill, she shouted out "I'm free as a bird!" was classic.

But oh, those inevitable mornings that we're running late for school and she has to ride in the trailer... the accompanying grumpiness is a bit over the top as well.

I'm not sure if it was the unfamiliar bike route (and the accompanying novelties that distracted her), or the preceding day of Thanksgiving festivities and travel, but she was struggling on this blackest of all Fridays. Our suggestion that we simply lock her bike to a tree and she continue on in the trailer was not an option for her. Until it was. Beaten, she defeatedly climbed in. But the next moment was in tears, desperate to go home rather than ride in the trailer of shame. Some crackers and clementines smoothed things over enough so that we could finish the ride.

Her younger sister, though, seemed blissfully unaware for the most part of her sister's turmoil. Her feet stuck out of the trailer as she reclined back in her chariot, snug in her homemade sweater dress.

 

 

middle ground

I like to think of that first sweater I made twenty years ago as my fiber residency: so much learning packed into such a short time, with a good dose of pain and sleep deprivation mixed in. And while I was thoroughly pleased with the result, I have not been overly anxious to venture into the realm of large scale knitting since. Sure, I've put together a few adult sized hats and scarves (and even made up some finger gloves one year -- note to self: use a pattern next time you try finger gloves). But for the most part, infant-to-two years has been the sweater extent.

So imagine my hemming and hawing when, after finishing up the last little sweater, my ten year-old requested one for herself. "It won't be that much bigger than the baby sweater, you know."

Well, you know, maybe it won't be after all.

So after a quick flip through Farmyard Girls and Tractor Boys (I am well on my way to making every single thing in this book, I love it so), the sweater was chosen and cast on.

And here's the thing: a ten year-old sweater really doesn't take much longer than a baby sweater. Especially when one is using size 5 needles rather than size 3.

So for this week's installment of Modeling Time (instituted last month by said ten year-0ld), I bring you a non-baby-not-quite-adult "Short-sleeved Cable Yoke Cardie" (really, that's the actual name -- I couldn't have made all that up if I tried).

The yarn is Berroco Pure Merino Heather, and the buttons are mother-of-pearl flowers from JoAnn's. And that last picture? Well, the big boys thought they would add a little bit of class and sobriety to Model Time. As if Model Time weren't already those things all on its own.

date night with my girl

On friday night, dinner is a hurried affair. Something quick and easy that doesn't require a lot of clean up. The kids and I eat early and then I hand out assignments: make sure to change the baby before you put on his pj's; please clear a footpath across the floor in your room; please please please put away the food that will rot before I get home. With the necessities under control, the seven year-old and I head for the car.

Over the past few weeks we have discovered a route to her riding lesson that is almost exclusively rural -- fields and horses and broad views of the hills. We turn off the radio and roll down the windows and talk about farms and animals and the horse we want one day. I'm partial to grey arabians; she is dying for a black Rocky Mountain. [Speaking of dying for a horse, she brought me a Shel Silverstein book the other night, plopped it open to 'Little Abigail and the Beautiful Pony' and announced, "You really need to read this mom, to see what can happen to a girl when she doesn't get her pony."] Before the car is even in park, she throws the door open and sprints for the stalls. I gather up my knitting or a book, and go looking for a spot with a little shade and a good view of the paddock.

This week, as fall officially kicked in, there was a new edge to the air, a new hue in the sky. Fresh -- can I call that a color? I brought a jacket from the car but could not bring myself to put it on. She rode bareback for the first time, and could hardly stop hugging the horse.

For a full hour she did this:

While I did this:

And all while the sky was doing this:

and this:

and even this:

Sometimes I think the whole combination is a show put on entirely to soothe my sanity, to ease up the tension from much of the week. But even if the audience extends beyond one, if part of the display is for the benefit of everyone managing a glance out the window, I'll still happily buy my ticket. Friday's drive and lesson fee and hurried day are a price more than worth paying for the pleasure of watching the sky dance and evolve, while this girl of mine strokes her dream.

fall orange

On a recent visit, my mother-in-law brought a hat she had knitted for the kids, and oh the vying that has ensued. Aside from the obvious draw of a pumpkin hat, and the supersoft that is good wool, I really think it's the color that has prompted half of the kids to claim ownership.

I mean, it is fall. Orange and fall; is there a more perfect combination?

Sunday afternoon we went for a walk in the canyon. The greens are going yellow and the reds starting to pop, but from a distance the overall swath blends to orange. After all, orange is the early side of red and the late end of yellow. Even brown in the sunshine and green on its dry dull side read orange from fifty feet away. It's the color of transition, of moving from lush to gone. The grasses and leaves and even the bark in these canyons break out oranges that are fiery in the day and drousy cool at night. Singed and cooled and singed again, this quick stretch of fall between summer and winter shouts orange.

Can I really expect them to resist?

So I started some other orange hats to ease up the tension. First for the baby. I put together a variation of Leef's Ear Flap Hat, with some extra orange rows on the bottom, and the second color (brown) all the way to the top. One of these days I'll learn how to use Ravelry and provide more details of the variations, but for now "a little more of this and a little less of that" is the best I have to offer. Beyond color changes, and mostly "knit" where it said to "purl," I followed the pattern (relatively) faithfully.

Two orange hats on hand, one more to go . . .

browns and greens

Just as the sun was coming up last tuesday morning (6:30am, to be exact), all six of the school going members of our family pulled out on their bikes. In another month it will be dark when they leave, but september offers enough light I can watch them all the way down the street and around the corner. The new addition to the family peloton is our kindergarten girl. She had a pretty nasty crash on that tacked-on bike this summer, but is back on now and fully addicted. She cried when I picked her up in the car tuesday afternoon.

"But I want to ride my 'hook-a-long' home!" she wailed. "Couldn't you have at least picked me up in the bike trailer?!"

And just like that the daytime head count at home went from seven to two. Tuesday was spent regrouping from the chaos of school beginnings; wednesday went to laundry. Thursday I packed up the baby (and the extra baby I had for the day) and went on a two hour walk. With the temperatures still in the 90's, it is amazing how much green has lasted. Green going brown rapid pace, with all the yellows and orange and reds of fall close behind.

The flowers are drying out and the lawns dying all along our walk, but still the dense greens linger. All of these colors and the slight calm of the school day had my mind shifting to cooler days and autumn colors.

Over the weekend I pulled out my wool and cast on three projects. Yes, three. That is one more knitting project than I managed to pull off the whole summer. But I couldn't decide which to start first: the sweater, the hat, or the vest.

So I started all three.

In a certain sense it makes perfect sense to have three different knitting projects going at once, in the same way it makes complete sense that I am usually reading three or four books at a time. A hat takes a different level of concentration than a vest, which requires something much different from a sweater. A little something for whatever timeframe and energy level I've got to offer; a little something for the temperature and colors of the day.

A little something for the change of season, hoping that the fall can linger.

sweater romance

The first time I knitted a sweater I was nineteen years-old.

My then-boyfriend-now-husband had moved to the frigid northland of Montreal, Quebec at the end of the summer, and a sweater seemed like the natural thing to send his way for Christmas. I had knitted before -- a few boxy mini-stockings and one or two scarves -- and I was sure a sweater would be an easy next step. Besides, I now had a load of free evenings and a half dozen good cd's; ample setting to compensate for the size shift from scarf to sweater. Looking back now I am thoroughly impressed with my optimism, if slightly bemused at my grand naïveté.

I chose a pattern that seemed relatively simple, picked the warmest washable wool in the shop, and headed home.

Two days later I was back.

"So, how exactly do I 'increase stitches'?" I asked the lady behind the counter. Clearly a sweater was going to be significantly more complicated than a scarf.

To her everlasting credit, she took one look at my pattern, noted the size I had circled, and sat me down. "So, this is your first sweater?" she asked, simultaneously nodding her own answer. "Let me show you a few things."

At that table in the back she showed me how to increase stitches. Then she showed me how to decrease and to bind off, how to cross-over stitches and pick them back up, how to weave in my ends and attach a sleeve. I left that night feeling mystified and dazed, but also oddly encouraged. I got halfway through the back piece before returning for a refresher course. Then I went back twice the next week. To say my progress was glacial would be a drastic understatement. By the time autumn had worn itself out and the snow started falling in earnest, I was concerned the sweater would miss completion not only for that Christmas but the next as well. Still, every evening I headed for my room, dropped in some music, and lay down a few more rows.

And ever so slowly the sweater grew.

By some miracle I finished and sent the package off in time for the holidays; he mailed me a picture of himself wearing it on Christmas morning. And by some ever greater miracle it fit. A good present, all in all.

A good present for the both of us.

Those months spent shaping it were cathartic for me. Something about creation that blisters and even draws blood, something about hands on wool and wool on wood; they never fail to inspire and calm me. The tight spots in my mind eased; the blocked passageways opened up. Those months took me to a place I felt as enveloped and protected as if the sweater had been meant for me.

::

Two years later he left Montreal. As he swung through London he found a sweater in a downtown shop that he picked up and sent my way. I was living in Minnesota by that time -- the far north of Minnesota -- and a good wool sweater was worth the weight of the wearer in gold. No blisters and knitting lessons required for that one, and yet it somehow had the same effect on me. Easing and inspiring, opening things up, just as a good wool sweater should.

I found both sweaters this week, loose in the dress up bin. However did they end up there? If I framed such things to hang on the wall, those two would be first in line. But I never manage to pull that off; I'm more of a wearer than a preserver, for good or ill. So instead they're on the shelf awaiting the winter, even if we have to head high into the mountains for cold that merits them.

a little baby no more

By some miracle, the sweater I began last month is already done. After pulling it off the needles and blocking it yesterday, I laid it on the ground and immediately thought I've made a big mistake. It looked enormous. Maybe "making it extra big" on the assumption it would take me six months might not have been the best idea.

Then I put it on the baby.

Turns out this little boy has grown extra big as well. Not only is he walking and talking (does it say something about this crowd that his first word was "no"? In our defense, he has been saying some slightly intelligible variation of "what's that?" for at least a month), but he fits this sweater pretty well. There is still plenty of room to grow, and generous space for underlayers, but in general it fits. Oh my.

The only thing the sweater still needs are some buttons. I haven't got many on hand these days, and the votes are split around here on these options. What do you think?

Buffalo Nickels

Pewter Rings

Light Wood-Toned Plastic

or Puppy Dogs

on and off the needles

Remember those socks that I started last winter? Well this past week I finally finished them. Socks, it turns out, really aren't as complicated or time consuming as I had anticipated. Sure, they took eight months to finish, but not eight full months. More like eight months of half an hour a week. Altogether, not too overwhelming at all.

Of course, the child whose feet they were fitted for eight months ago insisted on continuing to grow. Alas. Fortunately there is another child coming up the line with such long stringy feet that these socks should be in heavy use by this winter.

In celebration of one project off the needles, I immediately (enjoyed some dark chocolate and then) cast on another. We're still hovering in the high 90's these days, which means I should have plenty of time to get this sweater done for the baby before he grows beyond its limits.

And just in case it takes eight months, I am making it extra big.