akabini

File this under the category: Be Careful What You Wish For.

No sooner had I hit "Send" on the Linen-Stitch Faroese Shawl pattern, than I got a wee e-mail in my inbox.
(I kid you not; it came less than half an hour later.)

"Congratulations! You've been selected to teach at TNNA [The National Needle Arts Association trade show, where yarn store buyers go to shop for patterns and yarn and such.]!"

<gulp.>

I mean, sure, I'd sent in the application and the course description a few months ago...

But thinking about doing a big thing and then being forced to actually prepare for it are two completely different things. Ask any pregnant lady!

Here are the facts as I know them:
The show is in January. Early January.
There are 106 days left in the year.
I have 12 patterns to finalize and/or write until then.
Not to mention oh... 12 samples from those patterns to get done too?

Ah well, a gal loves a challenge.

So it's going to be all Unpatterns, all the time around here.* Wanna come along for the ride?

* We're just not talking about the whole marathon nonsense. I mean, really - what can you say about having to run 22 miles on a Saturday? Runner's World magazine calls these the "Monster Weeks," and they're right. 45, 46, 48 miles a week? Are you *@&$^ing kidding me?

(Dateline: Port Townsend, WA, US): Last week, after one of the longest creative-gestational periods ever recorded in the knitting world, a pattern was quietly unleashed upon the world.

Pattern: Linen-Stitch Faroese Shawl  Yarn: 1400 yards (or so) fingering-weight handpainted sock yarn, such as Koigu KPPPM or Blue Moon Fiber Arts Socks That Rock™ Lightweight. In one colorway, or in several colorways blended up the shawl as you work.
Needles: US 13 (9mm) [no, that's not a typo!]

I knit the first of these looong before I ever contemplated the possibility of knitting or writing patterns for a living. I had 8 skeins of Koigu KPPPM from a "Charlotte's Web" kit, and cast on for this shawl as a "what a knit on my summer vacation" project ... for the vacation in the lovely little shack in the South of France. [Nice work if you can get it, eh? It's a lovely spot.]

Thing was, I would wear the Koigu original at big knitting events, and wave it under the noses of my students in Linen Stitch class... but hadn't the foggiest of how to approach writing up the pattern. I had no notes (unless you count that coaster with a few penciled numbers on it, splashed with Cabernet stains), and crap – how did I get that shaping to work like that? Did I change the rate of decrease partway through?

So it remained on my list of "patterns to write up someday," until it became "the only pattern I haven't written up yet," and it was suddenly the gigantic design UFO around my creative neck.

Onto the front burner it went, earlier this year, and after knitting up this new one out of Socks That Rock™ Lightweight, we were off to the races. With the kind helping hand of Karen F., Tech Editor To the Stars, I got my jiggy on with it and it's live now for all the world to see and download.

Web exclusive on Patternfish; Churchmouse has paper copies if you prefer yours that way. Right now, those are the two places to get it - soon to be in stores nationwide? My plan for world domination through linen stitch proceeds apace!

Enjoy! As I say on the pattern: Handpainted sock yarn never had it so good.

I have a new obsession, and I'm taking out on a wee project right now.

(I mean, really - when a girl has to run for 20 miles at a time in the name of training, she deserves a little scarf knitting, right?)

Yarn: Isager Alpaca 2, color 011; 3 skeins (which I had left over from my Lily Cardigan, and couldn't bear to return because it's just too lovely. And will look great with my new jeans jacket.)
I'm holding the Isager Alpaca 2 double-stranded, which knit up as a worsted in the cardigan (20sts/4" or 10cm). So any worsted-weight soft yarn would do as well with this stitch count and this needle size.

Needles: Addi Turbo Lace (vrrrooom!), US 8 / 5.0 mm, length not important.

Stitch Pattern: "Cardigan Belt Rib," which I first encountered in the Gatsby Cardigan from Shibui, and which I now love with an unholy passion.

Here's how it works:
Cast on (a multiple of 4) plus 3 more.

I used the crochet cast-on, and 47 stitches for a nice, wide-ish scarf. It's currently 6" wide, at rest, unblocked, with those sts and this needle size. I'm hoping to block it out to somewhere between 8"–9".

Row 1: K3, *bring yarn to front and slip next st, K3*.

Row 2: K1, *bring yarn to front and slip next st, K3* repeat across until you only have 2 sts left, end with slip 1 with yarn in front, K1.

That's it!

Makes a great AFP (Afternoon/Alcohol Friendly Project) without being ungodly boring.

When I finish this 'un, I need to make another one with 2 strands of Classic Elite Silky Alpaca Lace in (what else?) orange. Much smaller needle (maybe a 5?), and more stitches, but just as loverly.

Details on my Ravelry page, but you've got 'em all here, so enjoy!

How could I have missed this?

(Too bad the colorway doesn't contain any of my favorite colors: no orange, green, nor blue.)

One more way knitting should be more like running: I wish I could be a personal trainer for knitters.

I mean, who couldn't use someone telling them exactly how long and how much to knit how fast to get them into shape to knit a Fair Isle sweater? or an Aran? or just their first sweater ever?

It reminds me of the Yarn Harlot's assertion that knitting should be respected as a sport, if for no other reason than there are more knitters in North America than there are golfers.

Today marked the official beginning of the second phase in my marathon training: Speedwork.
In the first 10 weeks, they had me running hills to build endurance. And let me tell you, I think I scouted out every hill in town for some of those long runs, doing switchbacks up and down streets in my neighborhood just to clock those extra miles. Think you're burly? Go run up and down every hill in your neighborhood – until you get to 8 miles – and then check back in here. Go ahead. I double-dog-dare ya.

And as much as I cursed in those early weeks, as many foul words as I found to spew at the publishers of Runner's World magazine for printing this training plan, I now can sit here (with an ice pack on my knees) and say: it worked. I no longer look at every hill with dread; in fact, there have been a few times when I only noticed that I had just run up a hill – while thinking of something else altogether.

So hills? No problem.
(Of course, it's especially no problem since the Chicago marathon is famously devoid of hills. Kinda makes you wonder, eh?)

But speed? That's another story.
Thinking about it now, I'm noticing that running is one of the few places where I don't pride myself on speed. I knit with a furious intensity that rivals Lily Chin; I love getting things done quickly; my handwriting is notoriously illegible because I won't take the time to make my 'a's and 'o's round … and I was practically born in the back of a stationwagon on the way to the hospital.

So why am I so stubbornly slow at running?
I do like the meditative and soothing quality of a long, slow distance run. I won't be about the sprinting, ever, I don't think – because I don't like to sprint. But something marginallly faster than 12-minute miles might be nice. Y'know, as a change.

So today I hit the middle-school track and ran some fast 800's.
And – psst – don't tell. They were fun.

Endurance, meet speed.
Just in time for me to match my running with my knitting. Again.
Spent the rest of the day working on two sleeves for a deadline.
Four sleeves and two necklines by Sept. 1?

No problem.
I'm speedy.