Bumping up Against Challenges

One of the items floating around in my OmniFocus task list for the past few weeks has been to determine proper gauge on my knitted pillows. The pillows, lest I have failed to explain them to you in previous posts, were inspired by a find at Zeilinger Wool Co. in Frankenmuth, Michigan earlier this year. They had a coil of taupe-colored wool pencil roving, and as soon as I saw it, an image formed in my head: over-sized red pillows overlayed with a large gauge accent skin of this wool. For the new living room, of course. Broomstick needles would give me the perfect gauge, I thought. I just needed to determine what that gauge is so I cast on the proper number of stitches.

This morning I was looking for one or two more smallish tasks to accomplish in my craft room before I started the day. (As for the motive of this search for smallish tasks, it is my youngest and shyest feral cat who has decided that that is her most favoritist room on the whole entire house, and she will often sit inside the doorway of that room as I putter around the house, hoping that I return before she goes to bed for the day. Because that room is apparently magical, and in that room she has decided she is not feral and never has been. And for those who heard my story at knit group this weekend, this is the cat that got too close to my spinning a few days ago and accidentally got one of her attached whiskers spun in the wool. Yet she still loves the wheel.) So I decided I could take 15 minutes to pull the pencil roving out and work out the gauge.

This is the first time I have examined the roving since becoming a spinner. I decided to examine the roving with a spinner’s eye, and in doing so I realized that the simple act of leaning against said finished pillow would essentially “predraft” the fiber and cause the whole thing to quickly come apart. Off to Yarn Barn to ask the experts. (Who I readily admit are “experts” in my eyes only as long as they agree with me, but not if they don’t, That’s how I roll.)

Turns out that my fears/concerns were well founded. “You’ll have to sacrifice loft for strength,” I was told. Also, since the red fabric that will form the base for this knit panel is corduroy, there is every chance that the lofty single ply fiber was going to felt, as well.

Our joint solution is to spin the pencil roving, and in order to build up the bulk again, ply it with another fiber. Our choice was a slightly darker corriedale roving. Bought up the last they had. Since I only have four Ashford bobbins total, and two of them now have learning singles on them, I’ll postpone this project a wee bit more while I finish filling the second bobbin, then ply and wind into a ball for temporary storage while I spin the wool for this project. Had no idea that I was going to need a spinning wheel to make two modest pillows for my new home.



Before I frogged the sleeves of bi-color cables, I decided to baste one of the sleeves to the body, just to ensure that the fit truly is off. You see, I re-measured and re-checked the project dimensions, and it turns out that I did knit it spot on with Modesitt’s pattern. When I thought it was larger than spec’d, I was looking at Modesitt’s measurements for the width of the sleeve panel, and not the length. That’s a side-effect of working on this project in two minute intervals between tasks. Anyway, I did knit it exactly has she outlined in her pattern. Yet it is way to freaking large. About 8" too long, as a matter of fact, and I confirmed this after test fitting the basted sleeve. Since the body fits well, then the only reasonable conclusion is that Modesitt designed this sweater for one of the more fashion forward aliens on Doctor Who.

I checked Ravelry to see if anyone else who made this sweater had a similar problem. The first thing that struck me is that even though this pattern has been available since the Winter 2005 issue of IK, only 18 people have cast on. Eighteen! Only a handful of those have finished, and most don’t comment one way or another. But one in particular did complain that the sleeves came out way to big, so they had to frog. Based on how over-sized this is, my first attempt will be on the smallest size. The length should be about right, but I’m concerned about the cap profile and if it will have enough length to fit in the arm hole for the body that was knit at a larger size. But that’s a hurdle I will have to cross later.

When Michael and I went to Kansas City a few weeks ago, we stopped at Rensen House of Lights and purchased a ceiling fan for the bedroom (finally, a room light that operates off a switch near the door), and two sconces for the walk-out basement level hallway. The previous sconces were...laughably inconvenient. You see, even though they were installed in a narrow hallway at head-height, the owners or remodelers had chosen sconces that stuck way out. At head-banging height, might I add.

Forgot to take a before picture, but here are their remains:



We hadn’t been looking for sconces at Rensen. Our only goal was that bedroom fan. But we spotted one that had that unique flair that we have been attracted to for this home, it hugged the wall quite nicely, and it was on sale. Who could ask for anything more?

This afternoon we installed them.



Very cool.

Tutti still is not living in a care facility, but my main concern (my aging mother running herself ragged looking after both Tutti and her great grandchildren) has been taken care of. Seems that Tutti has finally found the straw that broke the camel’s back. She has been inviting herself over at lunchtime with only 30 minutes notice, and telling other people that they are invited as well, with absolutely zero notice. We’re talking babysitting days when my mother is heating up small amounts of leftovers for her and her small g-grandchildren. She’s been talking to my mother’s large yellow lab in an excitable voice which is getting the dog all souped up and impossible to control, and refusing to stop talking to the dog when asked directly. And then she started having people drop her off at my mother’s house without any notice whatsoever.

Lately my mother “hasn’t been home.” Closed garage doors and privacy glass on the front door help to create this illusion.

I call my mother and ask her what she is up to. Instead of saying that she’s taking Tutti to the grocery store, or Tutti to the doctor, or Tutti to her ex-mother-in-law’s house, my mother says “I’m making a puzzle,” or “I spent the morning cleaning and organizing the refrigerator.” My mother is about to celebrate her 54th wedding anniversary. I think it’s high time that she find a little peace in her life.

As for Tutti, by refusing to admit herself into the care center, she is doing nothing to help herself. And as long as my mother and others like her are always there to rescue her, Tutti’s social worker and attorney have little incentive to pressure her to move.