In which I admit new depth to my dorkiness: knitting and teaching.

Greg Wilson did a great job during Software Carpentry instructor training this afternoon of using interesting examples and analogies to explain the psychology of learning. Long time readers of this blog might remember my use of analogies to explain research and teaching (sandwiches and DDR?). This is a habit I picked up from my first class on college science teaching, during my first year as a graduate student. My professor was the incomparable Sandi Abell, without whom I likely would not have achieved my career aspirations. Although she is no longer with us, I think often of her and the time I spent in her classes. One of our course requirements was to write a teaching philosophy using an analogy for teaching. I didn't do very well on the assignment. I tried to compare teaching to the scientific process or ecosystems or something similarly silly, given that the point of the assignment was to make our views on teaching more accessible to a layperson.

When I started applying for jobs a year ago, I pulled that teaching philosophy out of my file archives, blew off the metaphorical dust, and wrapped it in fluffy, wooly goodness. Indeed, I spent a good-sized paragraph describing how teaching and learning are like knitting. I know you're dying to hear how I made that work, so here you go:

Much of my leisure time is spent knitting. I'm not surprised anymore to meet other scientists and educators who play with sticks and string. In fact, knitting possesses many parallels to the process of teaching science in particular. Yarn represents content knowledge like vocabulary that forms the foundation of learning. Knitting needles are like questions offered to students to assist in connecting together loops of yarn to form fabric. A student's misconception is like dropping a stitch in knitting; the instructor must backtrack, correct the mistake, and then pick back up with the previous pattern or lesson. The knitted product represents the goal of learning: a cohesive object which unites together different aspects of knowledge and imparts functionality. In my opinion, science learning is a multidisciplinary, dynamic process that requires flexibility, and instructors who approach science teaching actively and inquisitively are most effective. In the same way, some of the most entertaining knitting projects include many different types of yarn, use interesting stitch patterns, and produce objects which are both functional and beautiful. Both teaching and knitting are skills which require time, effort and continual assessment to yield successful outcomes.

I probably could've written another five pages! Of course, that was just the introductory paragraph to my two-page statement, which was tied up nicely at the end with this hum-dinger of a line:

I hope to continue helping students “knit” scientific concepts together in an interesting, engaging manner.

See what I did there? I'm SO (or maybe just mildly) PUNNY. I'd totally take a class from me.

Gratuitous wool picture, spun and knit by me!

I was halfway through the application season, having submitted at least a dozen applications, before I started to wonder if that was really the best way to present myself as a serious, authoritative scholar. I chalked it up to job-season jitters, though, and persevered. Apart from the analogy method being Sandi-approved, I sincerely believe the analogy to be about as accurate as I could devise. And as I learn more about pedagogy through new faculty orientation and the SC instructor course, I'm finding that things which seem silly to me in the moment are actually an effective way of communicating about science.

I sally forth with my renewed commitment to knitting + teaching. I consider fiber arts and science to be sometimes contradictory but more often complimentary parts of my life. I'm comfortable with that, and I'm extremely grateful to have found a new group of colleagues who can appreciate it as well (I couldn't help it...I knit during my first faculty meeting last week).

Knitting and Science: Molecules!

I thought it was time to take another look at geeky knitting, this time moving away from organisms and more towards molecular biology.

Chromosome hat, Ravelry project,  pattern

I think this hat would be awesome with the chromosomes knit in different colors to mimic the look of chromosome painting (fluorescent in situ hybridization). Ideally, the hat would be black, the chromosomes in blue (DAPI staining), and small dots of green/red/etc embroidered on later…

Genome socks, Ravelry project

The pattern for these socks is actually called "Genome," given the lovely cable twining up the front. I spun the yarn, too, from some lovely wool hand dyed with organic dyes (I'll be talking a  bit more about spinning and dyeing before long!).

DNA scarf,  Ravelry project,  pattern

Finally, a slightly less stylized cable interpretation of a DNA helix, this time in scarf form. There are some really beautiful projects from this same pattern that include color-coding of base pairs.

Other posts in the Knitting and Science series: 

Animals

Plants

Knitbot

Knitting and Science: It's a knitbot, but I'm so confused!

An article about a "knitting machine powered by tweets" came across my newsfeed this morning. "How cute!" I thought. "A knitbot! Knitting, technology, and tweeting? This is relevant to my interests!"

So I clicked through the link, and down the rabbit hole I went. It's a knitting machine cranking out Christmas-themed sweaters. Sweater-knitting goodness happens when someone tweets a particular hashtag, and it's sponsored by…BUDWEISER? Seems the hashtag in question is #jumpers4des, and the goal is to remind folks to have a designated driver over the holiday season.

So the message is as follows: promote designated drivers this holiday season by tweeting and making this robot knit a sweater! I'm a proponent of intersectionality among issues near and dear to my heart, but this seemed to be a rather obfuscated message. Perhaps if knitters were more likely to drink and drive, the logical leaps might make a bit more sense?

Once I accepted the knitbot as a somewhat ill-suited marketing ploy, I let myself wallow in the glory that is this steampunk inspired knitting machine. Check out those oversized gears! The modern flat-screen monitor embedded in a frame of copper tubing! OK, perhaps it is kind of clever.

Other posts in the Knitting and Science series: 

Animals

Plants

Knitting and Science: Plants!

There's a long tradition of incorporating botanical designs into knitting, including many lace patterns inspired by and named after flowers/gardens, and entire books of patterns for creating flowers. Like all other knitted objects, these range from abstractly inspired by plants to fairly realistic representations.

Flower bouquet, Ravelry project

Let's start with the most realistic flowers: in this case, calla lilies and some campanula-style bellflowers. I strove for ease in knitting and aesthetic appeal more than botanical realism, hence the calla lily's paltry spadix and the incredibly droopy, non-differentiated sex organs in the bellflower.

Elodea socks, Ravelry project

Then there are patterns which are inspired by plants. They may or may not actually resemble said plant, but I'm a sucker for inclusion of scientific names into knitting patterns.

Lace stockings with flower motif; Ravelry project

There are plant motifs which occur in lace knitting, often featuring leaves or flowers.  

My Little Flower, Ravelry project

Finally, it's not surprising there are knitters that have contrived disgustingly cute little anthropomorphic flower-people as toys for kids.

I'm looking forward to sharing other plant-related fiber art posts with you soon, including plant-derived yarns and fiber dyes made from native plants!

Other posts in the Knitting and Science series: 

Animals

Knitting and Science: Animals!

Last year, I posted a picture of the giant squid I knitted for Deep Sea News. As a long-time knitter, I have lots of other projects related to science--both directly and tangentially--which I thought might be fun to showcase to a broader community. I thought I'd start with a category of projects which is both related to the squid: animal projects.

I've included a few links in the caption for each project: Ravelry is an awesome resource for fiber folks, and I've included the page on my own profile where each project is described. You can also find the Ravelry pattern page linked from there. The second link (when available) for each project is to the website where the pattern is available. Most of these patterns are freely available online.

Some of these projects aren't that unusual, as many folks like to knit animal toys and whatnot for kids:

Elephant, Ravelry project, pattern

Kitty cat,  Ravelry project, pattern 

Who? hat, Ravelry project, pattern

Instead of knitting 3-D shapes, you can also make interesting animal patterns out of textured stitches, like this owl pattern made from cables:

Dolphin puppet, Ravelry project,
pattern improvised (crochet, not knitting!)

Finally, there are projects relating to animals that I've made for cosplay: the dolphin puppet was part of my costume for Pam Poovey from Archer...

Anatomical heart, 
Ravelry project,  pattern

...and the heart was for Daenerys Targaryen from Game of Thrones. Knitting, science, AND sci-fi/fantasy? Doesn't get much better than that!



Coming up next in this series: plants, molecules, different types of yarn, and more!

Knitting for SCIENCE! Part 1.

I knit a giant squid.

It's wearing an eyepatch. Why, you ask? Because the mascot of Deep Sea News is a red giant squid wearing an eyepatch, silly! I bought the pattern here, and the Ravelry page for the project is here.

Bill's sweater

There is a rumor amongst knitters that a relationship with a boy is doomed to fail if the knitter makes him a sweater.

Bill and I have been going through an especially stressful time lately, and when I'm stressed and don't know what else to do with myself, I knit. I figured, we're already married, and a sweater can't hurt, right?

Emboldened by some offhanded comments by Bill (i.e., "This yarn would make a nice men's sweater"), I set to work. This is a vintage pattern for a men's Irish fisherman's sweater. It was a pretty fun knit, made from Lion Brand's Fisherman's Wool, my current fav affordable, naturally colored wool. It turned out pretty nice, and it fits him well. Lots of texture, and a cute little cable running up each side of the button band. My first saddle shoulder construction, as well as the first pieced sweater I've done in a long time (knit the button band separately? really? well, OK...).

Apart from the usual knitting thoughts, I learned several things from this sweater. Bill is both apathetic and quite opinionated about various issues related to garment design. He really preferred a three button cardigan, but he didn't care what it looked like. He was also pretty worthless when it came to picking out buttons.

But now he has a nice wool sweater. The yarn is pretty inexpensive, and rather than being a work of art, I see this sweater as a production piece. At the risk of sounding too ego-centric, I think I knit this sweater more for me than for him. I don't mean that I'll wear it more than him (although I might steal it occasionally, especially if it smells like him). I mean that I knit when words seem to fail me, and when I don't know any other way to convey my concern, love, and support. I knit when I hear about babies being born, I knit for birthdays, I knit for friends who are ill. I hate greeting cards, and sometimes my words don't sound right or are misinterpreted. But a sweater? Pair of socks? Any other knit? You can bet that I thought about good wishes for that person with every stitch.

I've already picked out Bill's next sweater. I'll use LB Fisherman's Wool again, but the darker, chocolate brown color. The sweater will be the awesome Cobblestone Pullover from Interweave Knits a few years back. I figure, we made it through one sweater, so the risk is worth it.

Some sweaters

I mentioned earlier that I've been on a sweater knitting kick, and I wasn't kidding. I seem to have a penchant for sweaters knit from the top down, either with raglan shaping or a circular/round yoke. Here's my progress so far this fall, since my first handspun, handdyed, handknit sweater.

First up: I bought some blended fiber super cheap from a seller on etsy. It ended up as a 2-ply worsted weight yarn with lots of heathery bits in different colors and sparkles (!). I knit it up into this February Lady Sweater, a classic raglan design that's really popular on Ravelry, with a garter stitch yoke, lace pattern on the body, and 3/4 length sleeves. I was desperate to use these metal buttons imprinted with flowers, but I only had two buttons but three buttonholes. So I grabbed a neutral button to round out the set to place at the top. Lesson learned: choose buttons before making buttonholes. Then you can ensure the correct size AND number of buttons. How novel.

Second: I had a ton of that same yarn left over, and fell in love with the pattern for this Shalom sweater, so I cast on and knit it over Thanksgiving break at my mom's place in Indiana. Top down, too, but with a circular yoke and no sleeves. There was a bit more color variation in this bit of yarn, so there's some subtle striping. The button is this fabulous triangular pearlescent thing that I love.

Third: a chunky weight sweater made from both commercial spun (the beige, Cascade Eco Wool) and handdyed, handspun 2 ply wool that matched just great. Again, top down, circular yoke, 3/4 length sleeves, and there were these rose colored buttons in my stash that complimented my dye job beautifully. This was a great exercise in using up all of the handspun I could; I continued the bottom hem until I ran out.

Finally: a stashbuster. Top down garter stitch with two yarns. I bought the bright purple in a "Bag of Knit" from Dizzy Sheep, and the lavender jumped into my suitcase while on vacation in Maine last summer. The buttons are plastic inset with little purple and green flowers. Not the most flattering, but interesting. I like the asymmetrical front. Woot!

So there you have it. Other details are available on my Ravelry page (I'm k8lh over there), and if you don't know what Rav is, you probably don't care about other details anyway! There are other WIPs (works in progress) that will hopefully be bloggable soon, but that completes the glut of sweaters I've completed over the past few months.

It's amazing to me how I've managed to actually start thinking about how garments suit me, and how construction of sweaters varies. This is a huge step forward since I started completely disregarding clothing when I entered my hippy phase a few years ago.

Soon to come on Princess Tradescantia: a tutorial for pompoms! (never thought I'd say that), thoughts on art vs. craft, and more fun things!

Cute stuff.

Katy's been bugging me to put a pic of this little guy up somewhere, so here he is! His name is Elefante, and he's a cute free pattern I found on Ravelry. Sure, his ears are crooked, and he looks sad when he's not supported by a ball of yarn, and he looks like a clown barfed on him, but he's squishy, he's friendly, and he's mine...all mine!!!

He is but the first in a line of cuteness that has permeated my life lately. All of said cuteness is very welcome right now, as a dark raincloud has apparently permanently relocated to right on

top of Columbia, and the dark misty days are weighing on my heart.

What else is cute-ifying my life right now? Well, the cats, of course! Here's Atticus, in his second favorite bathroom sink, with his new favorite toy from his absolute favoritest auntie. How could you not love that pudge (which, as Bill is quick to point out, is actually muscle).

And last but not least, something not cute so much as delicious and squishy. It's Sherino, which is Shetland x Merino (you know how I love my punny/clever names) dyed green, with PEACOCK feathers in it. For real. It's lovely and squooshy and soo pretty...got it in a destash on Rav, and will have to make something for myself with it, I think. Mmm...sheepy birdy yumminess.

Fiber Art.

Yesterday was my second Ravelversary! For those of you that are not fiber geeks, it means I've been a member of Ravelry for two years. It's a wonderful website, the future of the intertubes, if you will, and surely worthy of its own post. On this momentous occasion, however, I feel inspired to let you know how I view fiber these days.

This is my first handspun, hand-dyed, hand knit sweater. It's definitely not perfect. It's heavy and a little sloppy, and the skeins didn't take the dye exactly the same, but I love it. It's snuggly and fuzzy, it knit up quickly, and it makes me happy. Mostly because I feel like I've really created something, and no one else will ever have one like it, because the materials, the time, and the feeling of it can never be recreated.

That's what's so fun about fiber these days...I can take wool, or mohair, or ramie, or some other random spinnable fiber (cat hair? recycled soda bottles?) and turn it into something useful. Add some color, and the fun aspect increases even more!

I think this is such a revelation to me because I tend to undervalue what I create. I probably have at least 30 pairs of handknit socks in my drawer right now. I just crank them out, not for the product, but for the ease of travel and process of knitting. Talk to other folks over on Rav, though, and they'll tell you the real story...handknit socks are a definite commodity to some folks. Highly prized, highly coveted commodities. High quality sock yarn is expensive...a basic yarn can cost $10-15 per pair, and hand-dyed sock yarn can cost more than $20 per pair. So materials are expensive. Most experienced knitters would say it takes 10-12 hours to knit a pair, so at minimum wage, just labor would cost at least $60. It would not be out of the question for a knitter to charge at least $75 for a pair of handknit socks. Let's not get started on the hand-dyed, hand-spun aspect, either. I refuse to think of them as costing that much, though, because I walk on them everyday!

All of this musing basically adds up to one key concept: I create fiber art, but I don't like to constantly view it as art. I really like to share fiber stuff with other people, and I like to think of my creations as warm, fuzzy, hugs. I joke with people sometimes that if everyone were knitting when their hands were idle, there would be no more cold feet (or hands, or heads, or necks). But I really mean it. I knit for utility, sometimes for pretty, and mostly to keep my hands busy.

Top ten cool things about knitting

I couldn't resist a link to this blog post about cool things about knitting. It's funny to me that there are people who now know me almost entirely as "that girl that knits," and people who ask me if I'm OK if I'm not knitting. I think for me, knitting in public (AKA, knitting while talking with other people, sitting in meetings, etc) is mostly a tool to concentrate better, and sometimes a way to channel excess energy or tension (I've found myself knitting more furiously in tense and stressful meetings).

I have a few projects and ideas in the works to flesh out my thoughts regarding knitting a bit more, and plan to incorporate pictures. I grabbed a ride on the lazy train and stopped downloading pics from my camera several weeks ago, but I'm feeling the urge for some photographical evidence of my life.

The art of thrift

Despite an early morning appointment last weekend, I still managed to make it to a yard sale this morning. Granted, it was right across the street from my house, but it was still nice to partake in this weekend ritual. I generally pick up a friend and make a whole morning of digging through other people's unwanted items, but even my limited excursion this morning proved useful. I picked up a knitting book (Two at a Time Socks), a cat scratching post (our cats love things from yard sales above new things, because the smells are so much better!) and a set of wooden toy blocks with ants painted on them. 

My musings about yard sales and other types of thrift (dumpster diving, thrift stores, etc) have been running rampant over the last few months, mainly due to the positive influence of Katy. She actively attempts to fulfill her shopping needs by repurposing, thrifting, and otherwise obtaining items without buying new from a store. This has ended up being an interesting proposition for me as well, because sometimes I have to be a little creative, and sometimes I end up realizing I don't need it anyway.

[Note: the above philosophy does not apply to fiber-related needs. I still buy yarn, fiber for spinning, and other craft supplies, since it is a compulsion for me, and because it is used to make something else. Also, Bill and I still buy food and toiletries, we aren't freegan.]

Since I like hearing about what other people manage to find while thrifting, I thought I'd share some of what I've found. Up for today are a set of weird wall hangings I bought at a yard sale here in Columbia a few weeks ago. I thought the sale would be a bust, but then I spotted the one with knitting sitting on top. I looked at the one below it and it was the spinning wheel, and knew it had to come home with me. Here they are, artfully arranged on my favorite chair in the living room, as I haven't found the right place to hang them yet.

Things I like right now

I'm going to take a minute and be completely self-indulgent and talk about things that just really make me happy right now.

1. Iced tea cold brewed overnight in a mason jar. I got the idea here. And not just any tea, but fancy tea that is meant to be iced. Like strawberry osmanthus black tea. Ginger peach white tea. Pineapple green tea. I compulsively bought a sample pack of these wonderful teas at the grocery while they were on sale, and three months later (when I finally brewed some), I realized how smart three-month-ago Kate was. In fact, these teas are better dressed than me...they come in silk bags (?!?).
2. Fruit crisps. Fruit in the bottom of the pan (I'm partial to berries and peaches from the farmer's market) with oats, flour, brown sugar, butter, etc on top (recipe originally from my dear friend Leenie [blogger profile but no blog? Here's the start of some peer pressure]). I had to stop making them because it was all I ate for days (except for the food Bill made me eat).
3. Soakers. Wool+babies=awesome. I've knit several prototypes...I'm developing the master plan for the best fitting, easiest knit soaker (IMHO). Perhaps Katy will grace us with an action pic of a soaker on her little angel?

Self indulgence is over. 

Ah, the feeling of being poked by tiny needles...

...and I don't mean after being with my husband! Mwa ha ha...interpret that as you would  like, sorry, I couldn't resist another burn to Bill.

After feeling a little down in the dumps lately, I decided to lift my spirits with a long-neglected, somewhat rebellious side to my psyche...I got another tattoo. 

The story behind this tattoo goes back a few years, to the very first week I was living in Columbia. My boss was trying to convince me to focus my graduate work on Brassica, a genus of plants in the mustard family. I thought about it, but finally told him that I wouldn't work on a plant unless I would consider getting a tattoo of the flower of said plant. And frankly, Brassica wasn't going to cut it (including a myriad of other reasons regarding my research interests and goals for graduate education). When I stumbled upon a lovely little genus of plants  in the monocot family Commelinaceae, Tradescantia, I knew this was a genus I could stand getting inked. When choosing my tattoo, I was inspired by Tradescantia sillamontana, a wonderful Mexican endemic that is fairly common to cultivation that blooms often in my greenhouse (I took this picture there). 

Based on this pic, I sketched a small flower, very botanically correct, and indicated some areas to shade coloring. 

My wonderful friends Katy and April went with me to Hollywood Rebels here in Columbia. A young but efficient woman named Katy (not the same as above) re-sketched the flower into a more stylized, simpler flower, and although not what I initially expected, is just what I wanted. After all, that's why I go to professionals instead of doing it myself with soot, boot heels, and urine like in Russian prisons (random, yes, but I saw a documentary on it once). 

All in all, this has been a long story for such a little tat. Here's a pic.

It hurt quite a bit more than my first (which I shall blog about later). It's purple, like a traditional Tradescantia here in the Midwest. I was worried about fading, being on the inside of my left foot and all, but I will get touch-ups and additions (yellow for the anthers? more purple? SPATHACEOUS BRACTS characteristic of the genus?!?!) as needed. 

Here's a close-up, complete with hairy ankles (you're welcome), cat scratches (courtesy of Fatticat), and new-tat glossiness.

Another cool thing about this tattoo? The center of the flower indicates where I should start turning the heel when I'm knitting socks from the toe-up. I'm already envisioning my next two...knitting related, and a phylogeny. Yes, I'm a dork.

Life in the Hertweck-Alexander household: A few words about communication

In the car riding to work this morning, Bill and I had a nice meta-level conversation about communication. Specifically, how we communicate with each other. His comment?

"Talking to you is like trench warfare."

Why, thank you, honey!

After a relationship of almost five years, we're still trying to figure out how to talk to one another. I like to think this is because we work so well together...I will never get bored. Bill likes to talk about random things, sometimes to the extent that I feel like he practices lectures on me that he'll later use for a class. Unfortunately, this often has the inadvertent side effect of making me feel like he thinks I'm dumb (which happens often enough in graduate education).

He definitely won't get bored, either, cause he always reminds me how I like to twist words around (Example. Bill: Do you want to eat a salad for dinner? Me: You think I'm FAT?!). He finds this quite infuriating, but seems proud of himself when he's able to do the same to me.

How much of these differences are due to gender? Are they artifacts of two academics hanging out too much? How much comes from subtle differences in life experience? After all, Bill spent his time in college hanging out at a fraternity, talking lots to other men. I spent a lot of time as an undergrad competing in speech and debate, learning to listen, interpret, and make strong arguments (although I never made people cry like some of my old teammates).

Why am I thinking so much about communication lately? I was a communication minor as an undergrad, but I never really took it seriously as an area of research in which I might be interested. I suppose I'm thinking about it a lot because I'm working on writing up results of my research, and preparing for an oral presentation at a conference this summer. When combined with my traveling over the last few months and the computer programming I'm learning (which seems like learning several new languages), differentiating between different types of media and languages is taking on new urgency.



Anyone out there with smaller feet than me (I wear a women's size 9-9.5)? I knit these socks and they are a bit too tight, but I like them too much to rip out. They're mostly wool with a bit of nylon, handwash cold. Let me know if you'd like for me to send them your way.