|The Heathered Cardigan in Quince & Co 's Chickadee.|
It's been a while, but here's a post about Something Wot I Have Made. It's a cardigan. A simple, navy blue version of Melissa Schaschwary's Heathered in Quince & Co's Chickadee. Peacoat is the hue in case you're wondering. For all it's wearable simplicity this is a special cardigan. One imbued with personal knittery significance and strong connections to the Great London Yarn Crawl. More of that later... first a look at the cardigan.
It is in fact a grown-up version of the fluffy angora, Hackney-hisptery Cricket that I knitted for the Cherub last year. Fortunately, or sadly (depending on your view of things like how very quickly these tiny ones grow) the Cherub is now too tall for the Cricket and all its fluzzy glory so I can wear the Heathered without fear of too many Mummy - Daughter Matchy - Matchy concerns.
This cardigan has taken a jolly long time to knit. Reasons for this include:
- My long-of-torso-and-even-longer-of-limb structure, which meant more sleevage and bustage needed knitting
- My knitting speed is more that of an ultra-marthon runner rather than a sprinter. Slow and steady, slow and steady...
- Frankly, I am knackered. Who knew that mothering a pre-schooler would be even more tiring than mothering an infant? I think a lot of people out there do know this but, for fear of terrifying the next generation out of reproducing, tend not to advertise this fact. Due to knackeredness, I was lucky if I managed two or three rows of an evening before falling asleep in front of QI or a strangely soothing documentary about jelly fish
|Andalusian stitch detail along the yoke.|
|Easy tigers. It's a flash of Liberty Tana Lawn behind the button band. Calm yourselves.|
|Wibbly tubular cast off on the sleeves and the tell-tale rib of the Magic Hoop method. Apparently the latter will disappear over time. But, behold! The length of sleeve! The resultant warmth of wrist!|
|Yarns and projects a plenty at Nest|
Pondering last year's Crawl I've realised how it's proved an important marker in my writing and knitting life. In March 2013 I was a random punter visiting Wool House at Somerset House and met Rachel Brown and Allison Thistlewood whilst they spun away as part of a demonstration about, you guessed it, spinning. Little did I know what madcap venture they were planning, a venture known by the quango-ish acronym the GLYC.
Six months later they'd corralled me; I was a volunteer leader for a group of Crawlers dashing about London like a crazed thing.
|WARNING: Gratuitous crafting on public transport. Including drop spindling.|
The results of that Saturday included a whole heap of fun, much caressing of skeins and succumbing to temptation followed by acquiring enough yarn for a cardigan as well as the chance to meet some amazingly interesting, textiley people; Renee Callahan of East London Knits (my patient and witty co-leader on the GLYC), Dani Sunshine of Lioness Arts and organiser of Unwind Brighton, Linda Lencovic of Kettle Yarn Co. and Kate Metherell of Yarn and Knitting to name but a few.
Until the GLYC, I'd no idea such things as Freelance Knitters existed. Now I do. And it's fantastic.
I even had the delight of writing up all our adventures for an article in Mollie Makes.
Therefore, I wish much merriment and delight to all those involved in the GLYC this Saturday. And if you're not going, sign up and make sure you can go along next year. Then knit yourself a cardigan from the yarns you buy en route. From such things are memories made.
|Wine, cider and sock yarn at the GLYC 2013's after party. Happiness all round.|