Owls (and Ibsen) Revisited

I finished my Aran-version of the Owls Sweater over a year ago (amongst the snow of Feb '09), but it was always a bit on the short side. I was over-cautious about yarn quantities and ended up with a slightly too small sweater (well, fitted, shall we say) and a whole ball left over.

I did wear it, just not as frequently as I'd like. Last week I took action: unpicked the cast-on edge, picked up the ribbing and added a few inches. The result is much more wearable (and afterall, we are all wearing our tops longer these days). If you look very closely, you can just about see where I picked up the stitches, but you do have to look carefully. Full notes on ravelry project page.


The building site/ roundabout in the background is the lovely Yorkshire city of Sheffield, which I visited at the weekend, mainly to see An Enemy of the People. Sheffield might seem a long way to travel from London to see a 19th century Norwegian play about the politics of sewage, but I do love that play. Ibsen has a reputation as grim. This is wrong, especially in terms of An Enemy. The ending is tragic, the final line especially so, but that's only because the build up is so full of joyous enthusiasm for life. It is also a classic study of science and society (Ibsen was a med student turned journalist before he was a dramatist), in many respects as relevant today as it was in the 1880's.

I first saw it in the late 1990s. It was at the National and Ian McKellen played the lead. I was an impressionable 17, and inspired. I ended up doing a big coursework essay on it, and er, devoting my entire life to studying/ researching/ teaching issues of science in society. So, it was with excitement but also a bit of trepidation that I went back. I wasn't disappointed: by the play, by the production or by the changes I could (Holden Caulfield style) track in myself. That's enough blather about literature though, I'll finish with a shot of my current WIP: a small and very easy project using some a few balls of leftover yarn.


It's really just icord with the odd leaf growing out of it. Yes, there are a load of ends to sew in, but I'm doing them as I go. It is inspired by a few projects I've seen around, but largely improvised. It should make a lightweight decorative scarf when its done (or maybe just slightly odd bunting). More details on ravelry project page.

Rosalind Scarf

Since designing my Rosalind DNA back in summer 2006, I've made six of the things. And given away each and every one of them, I decided it was high time I made one for me (plus it's been featured in WIRED. How can I not have my own version?). I've been talking about it for ages, but was inspired to finally cast on by some of my students, who are currently knitting the history of genetics.

The scarf employs a technique called illusion knitting (sometimes know as shadow knitting). When viewed straight on, it just looks like slightly wonky stripes. When viewed from the knitting's edge, however, this wonky-texture reveals itself as carefully placed bumps and gaps, and presents a hidden image. This is a picture taken while I'm wearing it, looking down my front, along the line of the pattern.




Illusion knitting is notoriously hard to either describe in words or photograph, so I've embedded a short video. There's another side-view shot at the bottom of this post, along with a picture showing the back of the scarf, where you can see a sort of fossil of the pattern. This is probably the best photo I've seen of this pattern though (i.e. not by me, and using a better contrasting set of yarns).




DNA and illusion knitting could be made for one another. Looking across the scarf, the ladders of the striping pattern twist round those of the helix as purls and knits start to bunch together to display a regular shape (at least for those initiated on how to look). The pattern's title is inspired by Rosalind Franklin (google it), and, because I thought a family reference would be appropriate, a cousin of mine.

I think my favourite illusion knitting pattern is the Cheshire Cat 'Wonderland' socks. I love illusion socks. Straight on, and it's just stripy, point your toes and the cat is revealed. With valentines soon upon us, I should probably mention the lovemeknot socks too.

The Rosalind pattern is available for download on ravelry - or through googledocs (though if you are a knitter and read blogs, er, why aren't you on ravelry?). Knit-geeks who want details of yarn, pattern mods and needles can also check the project's ravelry page.

COMP: Grumpy Robot Seeks Home

Meet Marvin. He's loosely based on the BBC TV version of the character from the Hitch-Hikers Guide to the Galaxy. I knitted him several years ago as a jokey birthday present for an ex, who solemnly returned it when we split up. I found it again packing up to move house last week. I don't really want to keep him, but someone's got to look after those dodgy diodes down his left-side (if you don't get that reference, you can leave now). So, want him?

Enter this competition. All you have to do is guess how many books I have at home. The closest guess posted in the comments form on this post by 3rd February, 5pm GMT wins Marvin.

Remember to include some sort of link/ email address in your guess so I can contact you if you win. If you don't, the entry will be discounted. I'm happy to post internationally. In case of a draw, I'll pick one out of a hat. I've emailed the total number to myself, so that email can act as a record in case of query. I'm not having people round to count them just to check. I should probably also note it hasn't been knitted to any toy safety standards.

The photo isn't a clue, as it was taken on my bookshelves at college, which I haven't counted. Yes, those are 'work' books, they are primary data for my research. The answer is probably less than you might imagine a lit-PhD-ex-bookseller might have (I'm really, really, not a book hoarder), but it's also probably more than you might imagine too, just because everyone has more books than you think.

UPDATE (3/2/10): and the answer is... 185. So the winner is Mr Robert Weaselspoon, who guessed 172.

Warming jumpers and balling yarn

Happy New Year. I'm sneaking in a quick blog post between start-of-term business and our impending house-move next weekend (no huge life-dramas: it's just that the land-lady's selling up and we're only moving a mile away, but moving is a hassle).

I thought I'd share a recent experience in balling some yarn of my mother's, in case the info is of any use to fellow knitters. Exhibit one: some pretty, but very tangled and very, very slippery yarn.

My mum bought it in Damascus (here). From my own experience with a lace-weight version of the same yarn, I predicted it would be a humongous pain to ball. Loads of tangles, and so slippy you leave it un-gripped for a millisecond and the ball falls to pieces (creating more tangles in the process). I warned her, and insisted she came round to use our swift and ball winder.

I was right about the tangles and slipperiness. About 1/8th of the way through we decided to ditch the idea of the ball-winder (it just slipped off it, you had to hold the ball in your hand the whole time...). We needed a bobbin which could readily be passed through un-doing knots. We looked around the table and spotted some rolls of parma violets I had lying around ready to be sent off to a friend who lives in the states.

They worked REALLY well. The thick pen-like shape was great for wrapping yarn around whilst keeping tight in your hand, as well as pointing through the knots. We then balled the yarn (by hand) from these bobbins and kept the balls secure with some tissue paper and rubber bands. It still took several hours: the finished knitting pieces from this yarn better be worth it!

If you don't know what these Parma Violets things are, they are UK-sweeties (candy if you really must), flavoured with violets. You either love or hate them. See a close up of the 'bobbin' here.

I'll finish with a couple of FO shots - pieces finished over the Christmas break, my last knitting of 2009.

It's the Wedgewood blouse from IW Knits Summer 2006 (but modified as a woolly jumper), and a super-simple top-down raglan cardigan. Ravelled here and here respectively. The yarn for both comes from aborted attempts at Demi (rav link). Which, using yarn from a first-day-of-the-sales trip to John Lewis, is my current WIP. I've modified to work it as a top-down raglan, but I'm a little worried I won't have enough yarn. Wish me luck.

tidings of comfort and joy

I knitted a hat. It took less than a week. Which is handy because it snowed. Yes, in London. Before Christmas. It settled and everything (Don't believe Hollywood London: most years we have no snow at all).

It's supposed to be Selbu Modern, but because my normally abnormally-super-loose gauge gets abnormally-super-tight as soon as I do colourwork, it's more of a Selbu beanie. Which is at least useful for wearing under my bicycle helmet in the cold. It's also slightly square at the top, but that's due to rubbish blocking (might re-block on a balloon or something). Details of yarn, etc on ravelry project page.

Mince pies! Made by Kirsty, not me. Though the flaky-lightness of the pastry is at least partly due to me. Tip from one of my students: use vodka instead of water in pastry. Works really well. The mince pies were for a small Christmas party we held this afternoon/evening. Both Lara and Felix had to cry off ill, but we still had a house full (including Emms) of merry-makers.

Above is a before shot, some chocolate fruit cake (from Feast. Sounds wrong, but really, really works) surrounded by a pile of pfeffernüsse (Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's recipe), and lights draped over our staircase in the background. We also had gingerbread, dundee cake, goblets of mulled wine and about a trillion other things. Very full now. Signs of the remains are below. Season's Greetings to you all.