The Scarlet Knitter

Frosted cowl

Now that the weather in California has suddenly turned chilly enough to wear assorted woolens, I find myself reaching for a knitted scarf almost every morning and evening. In the hours in between, it can still feel almost balmy on some days, and then I am stuck with yards of robust, wooly ribbing, clumsily tucked in my purse or spilling out of a pocket. There has to be a better way. This one, for instance, which I improvised last winter.

 

 

I was off to Paris again, and needed a simple travel project that would occupy me for a couple of weeks yet not take over my luggage. This usually means either something in Rowan Kidsilk Haze, or laceweight, or sock yarn. I happened to have on hand two and a half skeins of Kidsilk Night, a glittery pale grey colorway left over from a long-ago shawl project. I figured it would look elegant in the simplest of stitch designs and cast on 82 stitches or so.

My inspiration was yet another gorgeous creation posted by the ever-inspiring Larisa on Ravelry, although I wanted my project to be more lightweight than hers, without the bulk of another strand added to the KSH. I also had my doubts about wearing a cowl, and thought I would aim for a scarf, assuming that the yardage I had would be sufficient. That turned out to be wrong, as I realized by the end of skein #1. If I had had any forethought, I would have used a provisional cast on in order to avoid an ugly seam later. Gentle readers, consider yourselves forewarned.

Encouraged by Larisa's enthusiastic pattern notes, I knitted this on the bias, making a stitch (2 stitches in) and knitting 2 together (2 stitches before the end of the row) on every other row.  Wonder of wonders, I discovered that stockinette knitted on the bias does not roll, but instead lies beautifully, amazingly, wondrously flat. It is a sight to behold. I still cannot get over it.

I stopped when I had just enough yarn left to seam my simple cowl. All in all, once blocked, it measures 15.5" by 52", which means that I can double it easily, without stretching it or messing my hair and yet without having too much fabric hanging down my neck like a knitted necklace -- a personal issue I have with cowls in general and the main reason why I hadn't fully jumped on that particular bandwagon until now.

 

After wearing this over and over last Spring, I am now a convert, and I plan to make more cowls like this one: plain stockinette, very warm, yet lightweight yarn, knitted on the bias for a smooth, elegant texture, but with a provisional cast-on so that I can execute some neat kitchener-stitch magic at the end. The final blocked length should be 50 to 52", so that it can be doubled easily, yet neatly folded in a coat pocket or purse during those rare balmy hours of the day, only to come out when necessary. For knitters allergic to kid mohair, I bet a lace wool or a silk-wool blend would work just as well, delivering enough warmth yet remaining drape-y and chic.

 

 

Playing catch-up

Nine years ago, on Thanksgiving Day, I turned on my computer, tiptoed onto Typepad, came up with a cutesy name for myself and my blog and started typing away. This was blogging's golden age; we all had so much to share and discuss and photograph, and discuss some more. Knitting and blogging were so perfectly suited to each other, with photos showing our progress, and words revealing our train of thought, especially the constant second-guessing that goes on through the long days of bringing a pullover or blanket, row after row, all the way to its very last stitch.

Between then and now, Ravelry, and to a lesser degree Instagram, have made it easier to share our knitting, and no doubt this is why so many blogs have gotten much quieter, if they are still here at all. Part of me misses that time. Ravelry gives me just the facts, ma'am, but I miss the ramblings of every knitter I ever met, the meditation on pocket placement, the debate on whether or not to knit the edge stitch, the agonizing over sleeve length. And for this the blog is best -- no subject too trivial, never too many comments --  long live the blog.

It has been months since I made the effort to put together a few photos of my knitting along with a few words to share my train of thought as I knitted a project from start to finish. In recent weeks, I have been itching to share the knitting that has taken place around here during that time, and since the blog's anniversary is upon us this week, now seems like the perfect time to sweep up the cobwebs, push the creaky door to the knitting internet and wave my hand. Hello, there! Remember me? I am still knitting, mostly reds but not only, and I'd love to have a little show and tell if you'll let me. I'll start today with a humble garter stitch scarf. I know, I know -- but this one is special.

 

Back in the Spring, surfing Ravelry as one does, I found this:  a simple scarf, all garter stitch, made of bright color blocks. I started playing right away, pulling together skeins of Koigu KPM, the solid version of Koigu yarn. For the body I used three skeins: dark red,  olive green and coral pink. For these three I only had partial skeins, between 1/2 and 1/3 of a skein each, which resulted in blocks of different lengths. I had more of the eggplant color so I saved it for the borders and the few rows that separate the blocks.

I knitted the edging by picking up stitches and knitting them one side at a time, log-cabin style.  It took one whole skein of Koigu, plus a few yards of a second one. I love this edging by the way; it pulls the blocks together and makes them look more urban and sophisticate, as opposed to a plain, stash-busting scarf.

 

 

This is my own version of the pattern; I recreated the scarf by myself, using the photo as inspiration. There are quite a few Carlisle scarves on Ravelry worth looking at. Mine is on the more conservative side, if you can call this mix of colors conservative. Pay no attention to my serious face as I attempt to model the finished scarf: I am thrilled with it.  Koigu is a dream to knit with and to wear.