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!

Big bad blog break

The end of this last semester kicked my ass. There are a veritable cornucopia of reasons for said ass-kicking, relating to all aspects of my life: professional, academic, personal, and artistic. Thus, an unplanned blogless few months of my life continued, despite many thoughts of blogging. As I'd like to continue being Princess Tradescantia here to post my commentary and pictures, and because of reminders from some folks (hi, daddoo) that I hadn't posted in awhile, I'm taking the opportunity to update while I'm working from home and feeling up to it.

Again with a list, in no particular order:

1. I am on a sweater knitting kick, which will certainly be dwelled upon in the near future. I have completed an additional four sweaters for myself since my last reference to a handspun, handknit FO (knit-speak for "finished object"), three of which included some of my handspun.
2. I'm thinking a lot about other fiber arts, even those not related to yarn (gasp!). Particularly, fabric and wool related activities, like locker hooking and felting. More about this later, after I have some experiments completed (see how I call them "experiments," so I can feel like it's somehow work related?).
3. I am slogging along doing data analysis for a project that I adopted about a year ago, but which will not seem to die. I am learning new meaning for the words patience, tedious, meticulous, re-do, collaboration, and time suck, and feeling more despondent about another vocabulary word I'm supposed to be pondering: dissertation.
4. I maintain my sanity while working on #2 (the item listed above, not the bathroom activity...well, maybe that too) by trolling the Netflix watch instantly list and compulsively viewing almost every BBC miniseries and television series available. I'm working my way through mini-series adaptations of Jane Austen novels right now.
5. The cats are adorable. There was a three-way kitty grooming and snuggling orgy on the sofa the other night. Our house is kept cold to encourage snuggling of furry creatures (although it might also be because we are cheap and don't want to pay to heat this huge house above 62 degrees) Here is some further proof of said cuteness.

Fatticat loves xmas, especially the tree.

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.

New to the herd.

I keep meaning to write a post about spinning, and today I found a very good reason for bloggage.

First things first, though. Meet Lenny.

Lenny is my first spinning wheel, a Lendrum double treadle castle/upright wheel. I purchased Lenny after a short-lived love affair in July 2008 with some spindles that convinced me I needed more power. Things worked out nicely, since Yarn Barn in Lawrence, KS happened to have a Lendrum in stock, and Bill and I happened to be going in that direction for a wedding that week. Lenny's a great all-purpose wheel, and I've slowly accumulated accessories for it that make it serviceable and useful for many types of yarn. I would be happy with Lenny as my one and only wheel forever. But, as many fiber fiends will tell you, it's hard to stop with just one (wheel, bag of fiber, ball of yarn, etc).

Meet Betty.

I met Betty on Craigslist and decided she should come live with me (I know, I'm a smooth talker and move quickly). She came to me disassembled, so I had some fun putting her together and getting to know her working parts. Here she is in workable, spinnable glory.

She's a saxony style wheel, double drive, and has a distaff (that thing sticking up on the right) to hold fiber while I spin. She's a pretty sweet little girl, made in 1974 for a company called Haltec/Hallcraft that manufactured furniture and decided to make these wheels for decoration, but that also could be used to spin wool. I think we're going to get along just fine.

Hate it.

As a graduate student, I attend lots of meetings in which we discuss research. Sometimes we talk about research articles. Sometimes we talk about theory. I meet with different groups of people, who all work on different research questions and organisms.

Lately, I've noticed a disturbing trend in the reactions of fellow graduate students when we discuss their personal (dissertation-related) research. The two situations that stick out in my mind right now involve discussions of research proposals. Obtaining funding for research is quite competitive. A research proposal that seeks such funding

needs to be rigorously evaluated and should pass muster from a variety of viewpoints, because not everyone rating your research proposal will be an expert in every subject your proposal explores.

I try to be a helpful peer, and I try to provide as much feedback as possible about possible advantages and disadvantages of specific research plans. Maybe it's my debate training, my nit-picky nature, or my current mindset from critically grading so many essays for my class. Regardless, I tend to be critical in my evaluating, and I tend to play devil's advocate as much as possible. The result, however, is lots of questions about methods, analysis, and a desire for an answer different from "Well, this is how everyone else does it." So I push, sometimes hard, for other students to think about why they do things certain ways.

The somewhat startling result, which I've encountered twice recently, is a proclivity for the person to get a little huffy and to respond with something like "I didn't know you would hate [this part of my research] so much."

OK. WAIT A MINUTE. I never voiced an opinion about other people's research that indicated I hated it. I never even stated that I thought the fundamental questions of their research was bad.

What I did was ask for justification about why they would ask a certain research question, or why they would perform certain tests in certain ways. I asked for cl

arification about research aims, and made them explain why they would draw that conclusion from that specific piece of evidence.

I asked them to fulfill the requirements of most grant proposals, and to be explicit in their scientific thinking. What kills me is that most of these questions are similar to the reviews I've recently received for my own (rejected) grants. Apparently, expressing any thought about someone's research that could be construed as negative means that the research is hated by the audience.

This is a new idea for me, and one I somewhat resent. As the first graduate student in my lab, I feel like I received relatively little feedback on my early research proposals, and I think I'm worse off as a scientist because I didn't face much constructive criti

cism then. I would much rather hear a question from a peer before I submit a proposal than in a reviewer's comments after a proposal is rejected.

Right now, I feel like I'm much more able to turn my critical eye on my own writing than I was previously able. I tear my own writing apart numerous times while writing, and I'm very lucky to have a couple of people in my life who can take a little time to look at my writing and tell me what they really think ("That figure is WAY too small, and I have no idea what that means!").

I suppose it's ironic that my graduate student peers are rejecting the very

thing which I currently seek.

And now, for the obligatory cat picture! Here's Fatticat hiding in a yarn bin.

A story and a PSA

I had fun at the dentist this week. I mean, I really did. It had been a year and a half since my last visit...I've never had a cavities, I never had braces, only had two wisdom teeth...I take advantage of my teeth by lapsing a bit between cleanings.

Anyway, I had a pretty good time chatting with the dental hygienist as we were getting settled...she loved my sweater (which I had spun, dyed and knit), and we talked about science and plants, which was fun.

Then she pulled out a machine which, I kid you not, was called the "Cavitron." It apparently shoots sprays of water to break up buildup on teeth. I cracked up...it could only be more ridiculous if it were called the "Plaque-o-matic."

So while she's busy with her hands in my mouth (and I am completely unable to speak), she starts talking about music. She shares an iTune library with her 19 year old daughter. She likes Lady Gaga! Then she told me about how her church played the instrumental portion of one of her songs in the service a few weekends ago. OK...at this point, I'm glad I couldn't respond.

Then she started talking about her other daughter's fascination with the Twilight book series. Caveat: I have not read said books. All I need to know/say is summarized in a great article from Bitch magazine.

Needless to say, I did not bite her finger. But I was relieved when she started telling me more about her citrus trees.

And now, for a Public Service Announcement:

It's been raining a lot lately. When I drive, I tend to stop frequently for pedestrians so they don't have to get wetter. Unfortunately, most of the drivers on MU's campus don't feel the same way. They don't like to provide the right of way for pedestrians, even in the rain, and I seem to lack the gene coding for stepping out in front of cars and expecting them to stop. But then again, maybe that's why I'm still alive.

So the PSA: let folks cross the street, please.

And now for a cat pic: my darling Powdie, who scared the piss out of me when I was putting laundry away a few weeks ago.