Busy bees

A baby photo of me and my flatmate Kirsty. Yes, Kirsty who made the awesome Wonder Woman jumper that got Boing-ed. That Kirsty.

Our parents have known each other since they were teenagers, and I've known Kirsty since before I could speak. We've shared a flat together for six years now. We joke that when we do finally stop living together we'll never manage to disentangle our joint knitting needle collection. In truth, it'll be a lot more than just that.

She is a bit under a year older than me. Which means she's got to do most things first. She learnt to speak, learnt to walk and learnt to knit first. She went to university first, she left university first (something I'm still struggling to do). She was even Alice before me, as it's her middle name. And she turned 30 first too, yesterday to be precise. See her failing to blow out all the candles in one go.

On such a momentous occasion, I could bang on about what an amazing person Kirsty is, how much she has taught me, how much she means to me. But it's not really my style. Or hers. Or our relationship's. Or this blog's. Instead, I'll show you one of the birthday present I knitted for her and take some photos of her feet. 

Legwarmers, covered in bees. One hundred and eighty bees to be precise. Nine sets of bees, each containing ten bees.

They are based on Pinneguri's bumblebee socks, but legwarmer-ised (larger circumference, and no toe or heel). I also striped brown and yellow yarn, rather than use self-striping, and stuck to just the three colours. I think the amazing yellow yarn really makes them, it's Jitterbug in "Vincent's Apron".

The project is ravelled here which includes full details of yarn and needles and link to pattern.

It was part of a bee-themed collection of presents (largely inspired by the legwarmers, Kirsty has no special "thing" about bees, though obviously we all know bees are cool). This included sponsorship of a beehive, honey bath things, an actual pot of honey, and a bee-covered honey and chocolate cake.

Busy-busy-busy as a bee

This jumper took me just under four months to make. Seeing as I'm used to chugging one out in a matter of weeks, this seemed like an age. Cycling-to-work really has cut down my knitting time. Also, it was 4ply, on 2.5mms (2mm for the ribbing), so I guess it was always going to take a while.

It's a product of my stash (which itself is best understood as a product of John Lewis sales). I had a bag of not-quite-a-jumper-worth of yellow 4ply tweed, as well as few balls of brown 4ply left over from this top. Put them together and you get a sweater which stripes pleasingly like a bee. Despite the tiny gauge, it was a very simple project - a basic top-down raglan, done seamlessly in the round. As you can see from the third photos in this post, I didn't bother with any jog-less join (I can do a jog-less join, it just seemed like too much effort).

The stripes are perhaps a little too short, and I definitely made the neck too high/ small - makes me feel slightly as if I'm wearing an optical illusion. But that's not necessarily a bad thing. I really like the triangle shapes it makes around the armpits. Plus, small vertical stripes can be surprisingly flattering. Details on ravelry.

It's a Monday, which is always busy for me, but today I've been busier than usual. My MSc students have an essay due (cue: last minute queries about citations, phonecalls asking for extensions...), plus the undergrads have an essay back and I'm running an event this evening which has suddenly become really popular.

But, I've made time for a lunch break when I can make up a pot of tea, switch off work email and write up this post. It's important to take a moment to pause amongst all our business, sit and think about something other than our everyday routine. Today more than ever, perhaps (I mean the Copenhagen conference, if you don't want to bother following the link).

On that ecological note, and considering the bee-like stripes of this jumper, I should probably make some reference to the plight of the honeybee. Bee colonies are collapsing across the world. This is serious. According to this book, bees pollinate 70% of our food. To repeat one of those lines credited to Albert Einstein, if bees disappeared: "No more pollination, no more plants, no more animals, no more man." Scary stuff. If you're interested there's a nice gallery of photos on the subject from the Guardian here and a nice blogpost from BBC's Newsnight here.

Right, busy-busy-busy. I'm off to give a lecture on the cultural legacy of mad cow disease. Then it's the exciting seminar this evening - Mike Hulme, Professor for Climate Change at the University of East Anglia (the place with *that* scandal about the emails...). He's written some provocative pieces in the last week (e.g. this, see also interesting discussion here). Our audience will be a mix of science media people and climate scientists. Should be interesting.

Summer

Without getting too bogged down in a stream of "bad blogger, look how long it has been since I posted", I've not really had much time for knitting, let alone knit-blogging the last few months. I was pretty ill for a couple of weeks (not H1N1 - I wasn't that ill, more incredibly wipe-you-out bad cold than actual flu). Also, it's been summer, so reasonably hot (at least at times, for old Blighty) and I've just not been feeling the desire to produce warm clothes. Plus, it's been the summer, so I've had loads of marking and research to catch up on. And, it's been the summer, so I've been enjoying the outdoors and cycling loads (still haven't mastered the art of knitting whilst cycling).

I'll start with a shot of an FO I finished a while back, but didn't get around to posting. Full details through ravelry. It's a second version of a top I made last summer. The first one was, I felt, a tad on the baggy side. This one, I fear, is a tiny bit small. It's nice enough though, and I do like how the cables pop.

Some things I've been up to whilst not knitting. Felix came round for afternoon tea. I cycled from Henry Tate's Grave to the Tate & Lyle factory via a pair of Tate Libraries and both London Tate Galleries. I read a lot of kids books about being green. Marcus and I had a long weekend in Amsterdam.

To finish, a shot of my new FO. I've been to a couple of conferences recently. For me, conferences equals knitting time (if only for the 6 hour train journey home) so I have actually got a reasonable amount done. It's a stripy top-down raglan, yellow and brown. So I can pretend to be a bee.

results are in

So, the answer to the contest question was 533 (148 primary, 385 secondary). Anyone who thought it was over 1000 scared me, though I think my clues might have misled guessers to the bigger numbers. This means the winner is Juicelbee who guessed 539.

The results of some of my tea-dunking experimenting last week as a worn FO:

This was a very economical project. I picked up six balls of the yellow in the summer sales. I was sure I could get a tee out of just six, but also knew it'd be tight, which meant working a size down from what I would normally and a lot of 'will I make it' nail-biting. It is also a winner of a knit. A very wearable garment and if anything the smaller size was a good choice - I wouldn't want it baggy. Its a genius pattern - easy and elegant, I can see why its so popular. More details on the project's ravelry page.

A nice cup of tea and a sit down

Firstly, thanks for all the congratulations about handing in my thesis. If you still want to enter the competition there is another day to get your guess in, have a second guess if you want - only two though (note: I've extended the deadline by a day). If you want to see it knitted up, here's a shot of a skein I dyed at the same time. A few people asked about the dying process, I'm writing it up on the yarn's ravelry page.

More good news: the Interweave preview is up for fall and one of my designs is in it. To celebrate, I brewed up a good old pot of tea.

Except, I stuck a load of yarn in it rather than actually drinking the stuff. I'd read about people dying with tea before, and, still reeling from the smell of koolaid (people drink it?), I thought I'd give it a go. I got a bit carried away and dyed about half my stash, its amazing to see how the different yarns took the tea differently (its all the same brand of tea-bag).

Above is some more bamboo/wool sock yarn, which I think will end up as a baby garment. Below are before and after shots of Orangina I made with some cotton bought in the summer sales. The original colour was a bit too bright yellow. Dunking the FO in a saucepan of tea before I blocked it has just muted it a bit and brought out the golds. Only a slight change, but a much more wearable garment.

Some more before and after shots, this time from a shawl of knit/crochet hexagons. Again, the original (this time a bright white) was a bit too strong and the tea calmed things down, but it came out much more bronze than the other two.

And finally, because you can't have afternoon-tea without some bread and jam, another comparison shot from a taste-test I did today. The front bit of bread has some raspberry jam I made back in April. The one behind is from a batch I did on tuesday, to a recipe from the Guardian. This new batch uses a lot less sugar, and consequentially, to my taste, is a lot yummier - its much more fruity. Still, I'm sure it won't keep nearly so long.

to see the wizard?

First up, a link. Oh my goodness, look at this amazing Bromptom, embellished with a gorgeous giant butterfly on the hip. Her project's ravelled here. You have no idea how happy that makes me.

Next, an FO. Mine, this time. A pair of legwarmers, yellow-brick road legwarmers to be precise, using a basket-weave stitch. I didn't intend to replicate the Brompton's sleeves, more inspired by the gentleman's fancy sock pattern, but it seemed to work out that way.

The yellow yarn is collinette's jitterbug, in the 'Vincent's Apron' colourway, inspired completely by Megan. I worked them both at once on a 80cm 2.5mm circular - I'd tried out the two-at-once trick for the red pom's, but found it much easier this time with just the one (rather than two) needles. All ravelled here.

That shot looks like I have rather clumsily upped the brightness on a basic photo editing programme - all that pink in the top left hand corner. But I didn't touch it, there was just weirdo light going on that morning. And on that odd photo colouring, I have a question: to SLR, or not to SLR?

I have a perfectly ok camera. It works. But I do keep getting frustrated by an inability (its and mine) to get the imaginary shots in my head out of the camera. Its five years old this summer, and though I'm normally of the view that (for the good of the planet if nothing else) you should use things till their death, I have to admit, I've been coveting an upgrade for a while. Plus the battery's running out quicker than it used to, so its obviously on its way out. My mother's going to give me money towards one for my birthday next month, and I should have a bit of extra money from various work things. My budget is £250 max, because although I want a good one, I'm not exactly rich. But maybe I should bite the bullet, wait a few months till I have (a) more money saved and (b) time to learn, and go for an entry level SLR.

Flatmate says go for it, mother says not to bother. I've read a few reviews online and tried the trick of clicking the 'what camera' on pictures I like on flickr, and I'm just not sure. Tips, advice?

FO: Sunshine Cardigan

I'm a big cardigan wearer - party because I enjoy conforming to the academic cliché, but also because they are so convenient for layering warmth and letting your Summer/ Autumn wardrobe extend into colder months. The ultimate transition garment.

A few months ago I started to have a hankering for a yellow, dk-weight cardigan. I had an idea for a perfect garment in my head, but it was very vague and, probably because my standards were so high, I kept changing my mind. I cast on for a top-down raglan. Then bottom-up with set-in sleeves, then top-down again with a different design. I played with cable, lace, cable again, frogging and re-knitting just to frog again. Kirsty still hasn't stopped teasing me about how many times this thing was knitted.



Eventually, I settled on a simple top-down raglan with a basketweave boarder, a bit of side shaping, slipped stitch edges, an applied button band and double-sided sleeves you can wear up (for working) or down (to keep hands snuggly warm).



I had thought about submitting it to knitty, but the deadline day came and we didn't have internet access. Plus the light's been rubbish and I didn't feel there were good enough photos. Most of all I felt that, for all the pattern's finishing touches, the design was too simple. Basic patterns on knitty annoy me, I figured why add to it? I have the pattern written up though, so I'll post it here if anyone interested.



Yarn: cygnet superwash double-knit wool in 'gold', 8 balls.
Needles: 3.25mm circ, 3.75 circ (both 80cm).
Buttons: 11 of the big brown ones (from Liberty, 75p each... but worth it) and 7 smaller ones to stabilise them (from John Lewis, in a pre-packed box - these are cheap plastic basic buttons for mending your trousers).
Ravelled: here.



This last picture was taken at my very favourite part of London; the Science and Art staircase the Victoria and Albert Museum. Not many people realise, but the Science Museum used to be inside the V&A building, back when it was simply the 'South Kensington Museum' and basically the left-overs from the 1851 Great Exhibition. The science collections were booted out to the west side of the stree around the turn of the century; the main exteriour of the V&A built around the old duel-use building. So although the outside of the building is overtly arts and crafts, you'll find a more mixed set of iconography in the interiour. The art and science sections were connected (and demarcated from one another) with a gorgeous ceramic staircase covered in the letters 'S' and 'A'. The V&A, conscious that their own building is one of the prize pieces of their collection, maintain this staircase, but I think most visitors today just walk through it, perhaps thinking its particularly pretty, maybe wondering why Galileo's name is worked into the design.

EDIT, see the pattern: