One for the books: Trefoil Cardigan

Hooray! I finally finished my Trefoil Cardigan today, after sewing on the last few buttons this morning. I am so, so pleased with how this sweater turned out. Actually, I wore it (sans buttons) all last weekend, and I couldn't have asked for a better companion on those unexpectedly cold, grey days. It might just be my favourite sweater of all time. 

The yarn is light and lofty – so it's super warm without being heavy. It washed up nicely; any reservations I had about the security of my steeks vanished when I saw how the fibres plumped up after blocking. It feels...well, it feels like a fleece jacket: soft, light, fluffy and very warm. (But with the added benefit of being made from a natural fibre rather than recycled pop bottles.)

I think I'm going to get a lot of wear out of this sweater, and I'm looking forward to photographing it in the wild woods at Squam next month. 

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I'm making good progress on my Jaywalker sock. I dyed this yarn myself back in the fall, and that's making it an even more enjoyable sock project than usual. I love the way the colours work together – it makes me think of spring skies and lilacs, so perfect for this time of year. Oh, and then there's the KAL I accidentally-on purpose signed up for...I've got some busy knitting days ahead.

What are you all making these days?

Let us rejoice and be glad

I wasn't going to go see the cherry blossoms at High Park this year. I wasn't in the mood for the long subway ride, I didn't want to deal with the throngs of people, I'd been to see them just last year. Or was it two years ago? Good grief, could it have been three years since I'd been?

This afternoon I took my camera and headed west.

The trees have been in full bloom since last Friday and now the petals are starting to fall, drifting down like fat snowflakes. Chubby toddlers chased after them, trying to catch the petals between starfish fingers and clapped hands.

There were thousands of people walking the paths, posing for pictures, setting up picnics beneath the trees. For once it seemed like no one was in a hurry and everyone was in a good mood. If you wanted to illustrate Toronto's multiculturalism, you couldn't ask for a better snapshot.

After a week of pristine blue skies, they're calling for rain tomorrow. Looking up, it seemed impossible. That blue!

But nothing – good weather, beautiful flowers, ice cream bars – lasts forever. And lately the time seems to pass ever more quickly, with one blossom season melting into the next, and the next. It starts to feel as though marking the time is pointless, and then makes me think I should make an even greater effort to note the days.

In my second year of university I had a professor who started each class by reciting Psalm 118:24. He was a big man with a big voice, big opinions and strong beliefs. Every day his voice boomed out across the lecture hall. "This is a day the Lord hath made; let us rejoice and be glad."

I thought of him today. I think of him often, remembering his exhortation, that daily call to worship. It didn't matter much to me at 21, but 14 years later, I'm starting to understand.

For there is, really, so much to be glad about.

Woodsmoke and wool and the sheer exuberance of spring

We've had a series of beautiful days here: wide blue skies, a cacophony of birdsong, the sudden, somehow unexpected explosion of cherry blossoms. The maple tree outside my window is afroth with chartreuse buds. It's been five years since I moved home from Nova Scotia, and I'm still gratefully surprised by the timing – and the sheer exuberance – of spring in southern Ontario.

In other news, I finished my Duke St. Shawl last night. I washed it up and set it out to dry, and went to sleep with the tang of wet wool in the air.

It was all dry this morning, perfectly soft and drape-y, the colours singing in the early morning light. (The yarn is Tanis Fiber Arts Orange Label in Teal. Well worth the investment.)

Maybe it's silly to be excited about a shawl on the cusp of summer, on a day that promises to be just one in a string of warm, sunny days, but there's still plenty of time for shawl wearing yet. Cool evenings out on a patio; late nights around a campfire; misty early mornings down by the lake. The intertwined scents of woodsmoke and wool – I'll always have time for that.

Have a wonderful weekend. I hope the sunshine finds you, too.

Sneak steek peek: Trefoil Cardigan

On Sunday, well rested and with the benefit of a bright spring sun shining through the windows, I finally tackled the next step in the making of my Trefoil Cardigan – actually making it into a cardigan.

First, though, the sewing-in of ends. This didn't take long. I find it oddly satisfying, even.

Next, assembling the tools. And a bit of studying up: if you're like me and like to read before you try something new, you'll find good advice from Kate, Glenna and Elinor. 

A running stitch up the middle (almost the middle – for some reason this steek was an even number of stitches, I won't do that again) provides a bit of guidance.

Next up: two lines of crochet reinforce the edges. I'm not the world's most able crocheter, so this took some time.

The crochet – one line done from top to bottom, the other from bottom to top – pulls away from the middle, which makes it easy to see where to cut.

A slightly different perspective on things. I pulled out the line of yarn I'd stitched up the middle, then put a piece of foam core inside the sweater as insurance. Then I got out my scissors.

In cases like this, where the tendency is to get all twitterpated ("Cut my knitting?!" cue swoon), I find it useful to ask What would Elizabeth Zimmermann do? She'd grab the scissors and get moving. Carefully, deliberately, but with an air of interest and experimentation rather than trepidation. (Actually, that's a good approach to life.) But I digress.

After all the prep work, the actual cutting is a bit of a non-event. Five minutes later, I had a cardigan – well almost. There are still button bands to finish:

And pockets to steek and knit, and buttons to sew on, and blocking to do. But soon, soon, I'll be finished. And I can't wait to show you what I'm making next!

Comfort knitting: Duke Street Shawl

What a week. I already knew it would be a challenging one – I was back to work, another stint at the in-house freelance job I'm working, which takes more out of me than I'd like to admit – but I wasn't anticipating all the bad news. So much bad news, and so graphic, and so constant. Eventually you just have to turn everything off and walk away.

So on Thursday I snuck out of the office for a coffee and knitting break. It was warm enough (almost) to sit outside, so I bundled up and sat in the weak spring sun for 15 minutes and got in a couple rows of the shawl I'm working on.

The Duke Street Shawl is one of two patterns that I modelled for Glenna back in February – the first part of her Urban Collection, Vol. 2. It was a chilly day, but with that shawl wrapped around my neck I was (almost, ha!) cozy. Later, I wished I'd had the gumption to distract her and spirit the shawl into my own bag. 

Instead, I'm making my own. The yarn is TFA Orange Label in Teal – I love this colourway. The pattern is simple – perfect for when your brain power is directed elsewhere – but the ever-shifting colours keep me well entertained. And oh, it will be so soft and warm when it is finished – perfect for those frosty early mornings at Squam (I'm under no illusions that it will be any warmer in June than it is in September).

I'll be bundling this back into my bag today, as I'm heading into the office for the afternoon and, well, you never know when you might need a bit of comfort knitting. Between this and the world's ugliest blueberry muffins (fresh out of the oven), hopefully it will be a good day.

In news-related news, I found this Amy Poehler video touching, and this essay was also a tonic. 

Back soon.

Floating along

 It's been quiet over here, as I plug away on a variety of work-related projects and try to ignore the grey, wet weather we've been having. In my attempts to keep spirits bright I've been buying flowers and baking cakes like crazy. And knitting.

I finally finished the second sleeve of my Trefoil cardigan earlier in the week. Suddenly it started looking like an actual sweater.

Now the fun part begins. I love the colours the sweater uses – and was surprised to see them echoed so clearly on my bookshelves when I stacked them all up earlier.

I love stranded colour work. It's fascinated me for ages and I still find it extremely rewarding. I love trying to make the back as neat as the front. 

After a couple decades of on-and-off colour work, I think I'm finally getting to a place where I can keep my floats consistent – not too tight, not too loose. It requires a certain focus – one that's been helpful as the ice pellets and the wind and the snow pelted my windows this week. 

As I work, I envision myself wearing this as I gather with my cabinmates after a long day of crafting at Squam Lake. The blue of the sky, reflected in the water; the green of the leaves on the omnipresent trees; the yellow and orange of the campfire. This late-season snow will be a distant memory by then. And so I knit.

Inch by inch, row by row

It's been a whirlwind week. I lucked into some freelance work and I spent many many hours over the last five days behind a desk. Just like old times, in some ways, and completely different, in others.

I haven't had much time (or energy) for knitting this week...which is funny, because it's always during weeks like this that I need the soothing rhythms of knit and purl the most.

That's when an old familiar pattern comes in handy – preferably for something teeny-tiny, so that you can feel like you're making progress. Enter the Cutest Booties.

Tiny socks for a tiny baby. 32 stitches, KPPPM, 2.75 mm needles; a pair finished in a week, even with spending less than half an hour a day with needles in my hands.

Crochet ties and teeny-tiny pom poms (thanks to this gadget – an excellent investment of $7) finish things off. It doesn't get much cuter than this!

This week I'll be tackling the macro version – another gift, but this time for a grown-up friend – big yarn, big needles...but just as satisfying.

Oh, and speaking of satisfying, look what I saw when I was out for a walk this morning. Snowdrops!

Spring is coming....