Whit?

I had to laugh when I saw this little news story: Company seeks Glaswegian interpreter.

Today Translations spokesman, Mick Thorburn said: "Over the last few months we've had clients asking us for Glaswegian translators.

(..)

"Usually, the role would involve translating documents but in this case its more likely to be assisting foreign visitors to the city whose 'business English' is not good enough to understand the local dialect."

(..)

He added: "We're not necessarily looking for people who are particularly skilled in linguistics, just candidates who can help out clients who may struggle with native Glaswegian."

I remember arriving in Glasgow and not being able to understand most of what was being said around me. While getting some Glaswegian colleagues helped (although I have never found a use for the phrase "that fake bake is pure dead brilliant, hen"), I struggled until I twigged that Glaswegian is basically akin to my Danish uncles attempting to speak English. There is a certain flatness to Glaswegian intonation that is very, very similar to mid-Zealandic intonation and some words spoken with a broad Glaswegian accent sound more like their Danish counterpart than the actual standard English word: home becomes hame which sounds quite like a slurred mid-Zealandic hjem. For a girl who has tried to escape rural Denmark for most of her life, all this feels a bit like a cosmic joke.

Thanks to my friend Lise, I spent most of my lunch reading about the 16th best football team in the word ever. The most recent incarnation is through to next year's World Cup which bodes well for the amount of (tense) knitting I'll get done. Huzzah!

Once Upon A Time: Liesl

Once upon a time there was a really, really popular pattern called Liesl. Liesl was made by everyone in all sorts of yarns, sizes and colours. This knitter did not think of knitting Liesl because a lacy, if woolly, cardigan would not keep her warm. Besides, the sleeved versions of Liesl always looked just a tiny bit off and the knitter imagined that the garterstitch ridges in the pattern might chaff her delicate elbows (which she has a habit of resting on the table).

Then one sunny afternoon the knitter decided to knit something out of a lonely skein of Malabrigo Worsted. She wanted to knit something substantial for, lo, the object would not be for her. And that is when the knitter came across Liesl, looked at the required yardage and decided to make a little cardigan.

And the knitter and Liesl became very good friends very fast.

In fact, the knitter made this little green Liesl over two nights and loved the project so much that she decided to sacrifice three of her favourite vintage buttons (metal, handpainted, probably 1930s) which she had found at an antiques fair.

The knitter was rather sad, though. She had knit a 34" version of Liesl and was amazed at how quickly such a small size was knitting up. "Why do I not have a 34" bust," the knitter wondered whilst she dunked another biscuit into her milky and sugary tea, "because such a small size makes knitting so much quicker. Imagine how many more projects I could finish! And the yardage is ridiculous!" She contemplated giving up biscuits and milky tea, but she had sacrificed enough that afternoon.

The knitter was also very sad because Liesl was not to be hers. Liesl would go out into the world soon. The knitter suddenly craved a charming little top she could just throw on top of dresses and girly tops. She wanted her own Liesl. And so the knitter went through her stash once more. There were many contenders vying to be the knitter's very own Liesl, but she did not love any of them. Then a thought came to her..

.. to be continued (although Ravellers can catch a sneak peak on the knitter's projects page)..

FO: Paprika

I'm oddly unenthusiastic about having finished Paprika although I have worn it a lot in the last few days. It fits well and I love the colour, but I don't look at it and think, "Wow, I made that!". Maybe it's because it was another top-down sweater and I can really feel myself itching it knit something way out of my comfort zone? Maybe it was the yarn - a woolblend which was nice enough and knit up well, but which definitely felt synthetic to my fingers? Maybe I shouldn't expect to be bouncing off the walls everytime I finish something.

Specifics, then. I combined Francis Revisited by Beth Silverstein with Wendy Bernard's Ingenue. I have long wanted to knit both and it seemed like an obvious thing to combine the two patterns as their pattern constructions are very similar. I used most of the pattern from Francis revisited and the edgings from Ingenue. I really like the Ingenue stitch pattern, incidentally, and will use it again in another context.

I aimed for a long-long-sleeved sweater but as per usual I loathe knitting sleeves so these ended up being bracelet-length. Yet again. I also ended up having to stitch the cowl down to the sweater as it just wouldn't flop gracefully. I suspect the choice of edging might have something to do with that.

Verdict: definitely wearable and I think this'll become a winter go-to. I just feel very fneh about it.

What is on my needles now?

Well, I started and finished a pixie-sized Liesl while I was waiting for the weather to give us a photo opportunity for Paprika. Liesl is currently blocking. I may or may not post a photo tomorrow. I am a few rows away from finishing my grandmother's Swallowtail.  This means that I'll actually get to cast-on something new very, very soon. I have a few candidates - David's sweater, Topstykke, a hap shawl aka Noget Der Ligner or possibly a Liesl for myself in some Noro Iro I have lying about..

(Hmmmm, funny how non-knitters always tell me that "If you have nothing to knit, my friend might like some potholders." If I have nothing to knit.. who on earth doesn't have an out-of-control list of things they want to knit?)

Wednesday Linkage

An assortment of various links for your pleasure.

• Dicey knitting - for the ones among us who like to throw dice when we need to make a decision. "Start with the Ivory Cube -- it will tell if you you knit, purl, slip, increase, decrease, or cable/twist. This is where you Impose Chaos". Thanks, L.
• Golden silk from golden orb spiders: "A unique piece of golden yellow silk brocade cloth, woven from spiderwebs, is on display at the Museum of Natural History in New York. To harvest enough silk to make the cloth, more than a million female golden orb spiders were collected in Madagascar, "milked" for silk, and released back into the wild." The links are not for the faint-hearted, but they are incredibly interesting. I say this as a arachnophobe.
• This has been mentioned a lot on various literary blogs, but it bears repeating: An Open Letter to the Federal Trade Comission. There is a difference between being a lit blogger receiving freebies which may/may not be reviewed and a corporate shrill. The FTC has apparently not noticed the difference.
• Most of my adult life I have been looking for the perfect Bauhaus teapot. I now know why it'll never be mine.
• Glasgow Guerilla Gardening. What it says on the tin. Sometimes they include knitting.
• The house of my nightmares. And probably also of the assigned estate agent..
• The 56 Geeks. Which one are you? And yes, you will be one because you are reading a blog. Brownie points for guessing which one I am. (thanks, Emme)
• The continuing saga of Amazon, their Kindle and the concept of "Fail".
• Hilary Mantel won this year's Man Booker. I can't even pretend to be mildly interested. Sorry.
• One of Dave's online buddies have started a parenting blog. Normally the words "parenting blog" strikes fear into my heart, but when it's called When Should They See Die Hard and the first post made my day: "The first stage is what I'll call "The Minion Stage". Essentially having a little tiny henchman who does as their told and will make Manhattans for you."

Enjoy.

New Knitting Territory

We were walking by the canal today, when the sun came out and I had to take off my jacket to cool off because my Snorri is so very, very warm. "I'm so jealous of your handknitted sweaters", David said, "and I would like to be as warm as you this winter." And so we agreed that I am to knit him a sweater, particularly as we are heading to Scandinavia in the midst of winter and last time that happened, Dave nearly froze to death.

I have all the usual concerns about patterns. Dave doesn’t like any of the usual suspects (Cobblestone or Durrow), doesn’t want any cabling or any colourwork .. but he does grudgingly admit to “not minding” the style of Kerouac while not wanting a cardigan. Furthermore, Kerouac is knitted in sport-weight and I have some rather fetching aran-weight in my stash..

However, the real issue is sizing. I think I’m heading for trouble. I measured David and his chest circumference is a whopping 5” less than IK’s standard size S. He likes his clothes to be fitted rather than slouchy, although he’d want to have a t-shirt underneath his sweater.

Questions: Do I try to play with gauge and go down needle-sizes? Do I try to find children’s patterns and hope the largest boy size will fit my partner? Can I take a woman’s pattern and take out waist-shaping/modify neckline or would I get in trouble with the shoulders?

Any helpful hints or tips either regarding pattern or sizing?

Suggestions regarding feeding him more rice pudding or chocolate will be filed under "David's being silly".

In Praise of Plain Knitting

Does knitting have to be complicated in order to be worthwhile and worthy of praise? Bells in Australia posted an interesting blog entry about once being told she was a "plain knitter" and how this throwaway comment influenced her knitting. I was drawn to her blog entry because I keep receiving very kind, flattering and downright baffling comments on Ravelry about my knitting projects. One recent comment told me "I want to be you when I become a real knitter". Ladies and gentlemen, no matter what you do and how you knit: you are a real knitter.

And I knit plain things. I prefer utilitarian and practical items. I am drawn to unfussy and very simple detailing. I prefer my sweaters and cardigan to be knitted top-down with simple shaping. I do not keep my finished items in neat piles in my wardrobe - not even my lace shawls. My cardigans hang upon chairs and my shawls are tucked in bags (alongside a hat). If I knit for children, I ensure that the items can be washed because they will be burped upon. I am proud of every single thing I knit but I'm not precious about my projects.

However, I do think carefully about everything I knit. This is my modus operanti and one which seems strikingly similar to what Wendy Bernard outlines in Custom Knits:

1. I look at the basic shape of the garment. I know my body type and what flatters this body type. If the shape will work against my body type, I discard the pattern no matter how much I adore it.
2. I look at how fussy it is. Does it have any unnecessary detailing, a gazillion lace patterns or two types of edging? Can I simplify the pattern if it is too fussy or busy?
3. What will I use this item for? Does it fit into my lifestyle or is it something I will wear maybe once a year? Does it fit with the rest of my wardrobe?

Examples of these basic rules:

1. I adore the Mrs Darcy Cardigan which has just the right amount of detailing to suit my taste - my busty, short torso would look completely wrong in this knit. I could modify the neckline and shaping, but it would no longer be the same design idea. Discarded, alas. See also the Whisper Cardigan.
2. When I did my Forecast, I eliminated the random moss stitch section on the collar and pared down the cabling from cable+bobbles to a simple braid. It's not that I couldn't do the original design's cable+bobbles, I just thought the designer had thrown in two or three textures too many.
3. I'm cold. I'm always, always cold. I need long sleeves and warm garments (cue Snorri (with added sleeves) and a multitude of shawls that I can wrap around my neck or lower back). I would never get any use out of a Lotus Blossom Tank or a Delphine.

In short: I make as many decisions as I can before I start knitting something.

Plain knitting involves just as many decisions and considerations as technically complex knitting. In fact, I would argue plain knitting may involve more decisions as knitters know that our plain knits will be the ones we wear the most and so we think harder about our choice of yarn or colour.

Yes, I can do intarsia, entrelac, Bavarian twisted stitches, and a gazillion cast-ons  - but does that really make me a "real" knitter? I think not. Let us sing the praises of plain knitting: stocking stitch, garter stitch, moss stitch and k1p1 ribbing. Without these things we would be nothing.