low-tech hobby

NOTE: I have re-written this post--because of a thoughtful comment that made me return to the incident for clarification.

I have a friend--an excellent knitter and designer--who was in Kinkos . . . waiting . . . and so pulled out her knitting. One of the guys there thought it was interesting to see someone in a high-tech environment using what he called a low-tech hobby.

She laughed . . . and then said that it could get really technical. It was a cute exchange, but that was the end of it.

As someone in the comments mentioned, knitting is "low tech"--if you see it as sticks and string. But I think of "tech" as more than just equipment: I think of it as not so much tools as a set of skills? Perhaps I am over-thinking it, but I do believe it would be interesting to have a conversation with the technical folk, to see if they can appreciate how a low tech hobby can develop highly technical skills. I want to believe that they would be interested in the following.

So here is what I might have said.

Okay, so there was this guy--brilliant guy, actually--Rudolph Steiner. He lived in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, he was a philosopher, and he was an educator. You might have heard of the Waldorf Schools? He established them. And he insisted that every 6-yr-old in his system learn how to knit.

I remember speaking at a men's event and chatting beforehand to a gentleman, over dinner, about my talk (creativity) and what I did for a living (knit). I remember him being a little startled at the latter, so I thought I would lend the conversation some credibility by telling him about Steiner's stipulation. And he said Oh God, imagine spending all that money for your kid to go to a private school . . . to learn how to KNIT?!?!?!

He was rude, he was dismissive, and he was not then prepared to absorb anything I had to say. But had he listened . . . he would have heard that Herr Steiner called knitting the perfect human activity because it teaches the following, essential, important skills.

• hand-eye coordination
• the ability to focus
• math skills
• spatial relationships

I have seen young Waldorf students knit incredible stuff: the flags of the world, free-standing structures, a giraffe.

I would add that it teaches persistence through challenges and the ability to re-examine and persist through what we think of a failures. And I think of this full list as the skills we need to develop and handle high tech stuff.

And, yes, to develop these skills, the Waldorf students do not use patterns. And so when we do not use patterns, we develop these skills--skills that are great for the brain and contribute to all sorts of intelligence, let alone longevity.

Of course, when someone from Kinkos sees you knitting, he (I will assume a he) does not know if you are using a pattern. I would assume he might not even know what a pattern is, and it might be interesting to find a parallel in his world?

So then, no matter how low tech our activity appears to be, there would never be an assumption that we are doing something really simple, without much of a skill set, and without the same kind of challenges that relate to his world.

All of this might be the reason I have knitter / friends who have worked in the following professions--while also juggling mother- and/or grandmother-hood.

• data analyst
• engineer
• neurologist
• English professor
• psychiatric nurse
• math teacher
• regional customer service manager for a telecommunications giant
• accountant
• dressage trainer
• policy advisor for the Justice Department

So after I give him this list, I might tell him about Rudolph Steiner.

And then I might ask if he wanted to learn to knit!

You never know . . .

Live long enough, and this phrase becomes a constant. You never know what single, simple decision will change your life.

So here is a little-told story of how my knitting career--at least, the book-writing part of it--came to be.

By the way, my first book was about using up leftovers, which is my most recent Craftsy class, so if you do not want to read further--but just want to check out the class--here is a link to the trailer
. . .
 http://www.craftsy.com/video/course?courseId=11105
. . .
and here is a half-price link to the class
. . .
www.craftsy.com/ext/SallyMelville_11105_H

(You might have to copy and paste into your browser: somehow, on this page, my links never come through as working links! They do work in my Ravelry group, but not here. However this works, I invite you to pass these along to any knitters or groups or shops who might be interested.)

So, back to the story.

I had taken the Study Skills Advisor job at the University of Waterloo, as a favour to a friend (who was taking a 2-year leave and probably not returning, although she did not tell her boss that last part), and because my husband--who had died 6 months earlier--thought I might need the money. (Turns out, I did not.)

So I trained myself and then counselled students, taught workshops, gave presentations (on any of the following topics and to groups of any size), and wrote a website (which was an entirely new concept in the late 90's) on learning and remembering, time management, exam preparation, note-taking, text-reading, concentration and distraction, creative problem solving. I had two offices--one in Counselling Services (right below the president's office) and one in the Engineering building.

I loved the students, and I loved the stuff I learned. But I disliked working in a small space (exacerbated by the fact that the air exchange was through the parking garage, so we were all gray by noon and couldn't get through the day without a 20 minute nap!). And I loathed working 9-5. (I know, I was spoiled, but I would look out the window on a sunny day and think of where else I could and should be.)

So, at the end of the two years, my boss offered me the job full-time. (My friend did not, indeed, return.) I said "No thanks, Bob." He was--quite rightly--shocked!!! "But why? We really like you in this job!" But I did not like me in this job, although I must surely have mumbled something more polite? He then asked what turned out to be a very important question: "But what will you DO???"

And here is the moment in which my life changed. I was knitting a sweater for my daughter's boyfriend, using up whatever was in my knitting room (as a nod to the knitting curse) but wanting to make it pretty (in case we broke the curse and he did stick around). I looked down at the sweater, which I happened to be holding through the conversation, and said "I am going to write a knitting book on using up leftovers. Someone will buy it."

NOT someone will publish it (which turned out to be a bit of a struggle), but someone will buy it!

With faith that this plan would somehow materialize into a book, I worked out all the issues of using leftovers, knit lots and lots of garments, and eventually found a publisher. On the photo shoot (which was held in Canada, because NAFTA made it difficult to get garments across the border), my editor asked "So, Sally, how many books do you have in you?"

"I think SEVEN!" 

(This final statement turned out to be oddly prophetic, although it had no basis in an actual plan in that actual moment.)

Because the book on using up leftovers was very successful and, I think helped by the fact that there was not yet a glut of knitting books on the market, I was allowed to do what I wanted next--THE KNIT STITCH.

And, as they say, the rest . . .

So, I would end by encouraging a) you who have leftovers to check out the class and b) you who have lived long enough to wonder if you have had similar moments in your life--when an odd decision changed all that followed?

20 years have passed!

I thought to call this post "coming full circle," but I have an aversion to that phrase. So, I'll get to it another way. . . .

Last summer I made a garment out of leftover sock yarn

(which you can see at right, and which I wrote about in my post "in praise of tedium"), and it reminded me of the work I did on leftovers--20 years ago--that started my professional knitting-teacher-author career. (There was a book that resulted, Sally Melville STYLES). At the time, I thought how wonderful it would be to take another look at that material. . . .

. . . And then CRAFTSY called, to ask me to do another class . . . on using up our leftovers!

So I worked up the old material, added some new material, wrote some new garment patterns, then filmed the class in early June. It goes live July 11th.

In the meantime, there is a giveaway--a draw to earn the class for free. All you have to do is click the following link (although you might have to copy and paste it), and they will do the rest.

http://www.craftsy.com/ext/SallyMelville_Giveaway

I do not have a large social media presence--well, actually, practically none, since I am not on Facebook or twitter, and this blog plus a Ravelry group are the extent of it--so your chances here are good!

The class covers the issues associated with using up leftovers (different weights, textures, fibres, colours, amounts)--expanded from the book I published 20 years ago. And there are new options for stitch patterns and what you can do with them--from making the "swancho" class pattern, to using the class's stitch patterns for another garment, to "what else can you do with rectangles!"

a wonderful encounter with a customs agent

So, I recently flew home back to Canada from LAX and passed through customs and immigration in Calgary. My turn came up to meet the agent. And here is what happened!

Where are you coming from?
Los Angeles
What business were you doing there?
I write for an American publisher who requested that I speak at events there.
What kind of books do you write?
Knitting.
Cool!

COOL?!?!? WOW!

Wow, that's not the usual reaction I receive.
I knit.
You do?? One of the US customs agents where I live knits too: I often think more of you should knit, since you often have to sit sometimes.
I have not knit for a while, but I will again. And here's a story about a friend of mine.  
He went to the doctor with high blood pressure, and the doctor said "I have medication for you, but I am not going to prescribe it yet. Here's what I want you to do. 1. Learn to knit. 2. Come back in six months. If your blood pressure is still high, I will prescribe the meds."
He learned to knit, he returned in six months, and his blood pressure was normal!
Wow! I should tell that story!
Yes, you should!

So here I am, telling the story! How wonderful was that?!? Please spread the word!

the joy of tedium

I was going on a long trip and needed knitting--something that could keep me engaged for the 10 day trip I was taking. I was visiting knitting friends, we would spend lots of time at our needles, so--as you know--this is a serious issue for someone who can finish a scarf in 2 days or a sweater in a week!

In addition, I needed something that would not take a lot of space in my luggage but would keep me engaged for many hours of knitting. Okay, lots of time, not a lot of space. You suggest fine yarn? You would be right! And while the obvious solution is lace-weight shawl, that is not my style. Nor does its chart-checking suit the amount of time I would spend in serious conversation. What to do?

Well, I had seen a pillow made by a friend--modular, garter stitch, sock yarn--and thought, okay, that works. Fine yarn, easy stitch pattern. But I have 10 days, so let's make a sweater!

I first gathered my sock yarns, made a pile of colours that seemed to work (greens, browns, grays), knit a swatch . . . so far so good. But I did not want to travel with--let alone knit with--piles of tangly balls of sock yarn, so then I unravelled my swatch (after measuring it for gauge) to see how much yarn each square took. Eight yards! How many butterfly wraps in 8 yards? Thirty two! (Am I the only one intrigued by this four-to-one relationship???)

Okay, so now I know how much yarn each square takes. And I also know I need a whole lotta squares . . . which translates to a lot of time making butterflies! Where and when shall I do this rather tedious, advance task? At the car dealership! Perfect!

And so yes, after a couple of hours waiting at the dealership I had approx one hundred and twenty butterflies. (I was sitting in front of the service desk, wrapping, listening to an audiobook, totally in my happy place. But I know the man behind that desk was not intrigued by my wrapping nor my four-to-one relationship. He likely thought I was the most boring woman on the planet . . . as he turned back to his video game.)

The knitting of the sweater took two months! Wow! Yup, that's a long time! So much more than those 10 days. And it is one of the few garments to which I can answer that completely and totally inane question, "HOW LONG DID THAT TAKE TO KNIT???"

But you wanna know something?  The first thing I did when I finished was start another! Why did I do that? Well, those who know me know that's just what I do. But another answer is that I was soon going on an even longer trip--a month through S America, with Craft Cruises. All through that month-long trip, I worked through my (this time) red and orange butterflies, often enough wearing the original garment. (So when people asked that other most common question, "WHAT ARE YOU MAKING?" I could show them!)

I have to say that this garment is the most admired I have ever worn. The knitters of S America studied it, the Europeans on the cruise exclaimed over it, the young knitter-protographer on the cruise took its picture!  

And never did any knitter to whom I said "BUT IT TOOK TWO MONTHS TO KNIT!"  look in the least intimidated!  Aren't we amazing, that we can appreciate the beauty and joy of tedium?!?! I am so impressed with knitters who do not care how long something worth making and owning and wearing took to execute. In fact, the only question they ever asked was "When can I have the pattern?!!"
 

And so I wish you, for 2016, a tedious project of your own that gives you even a portion of the joy this one did me.

(Oh yes, in case you would like to see more photos, you can find it on Craftsy or Ravelry as the Memories Sweater--because I can remember every pair of socks that was made from each yarn!)

a half-price offer on my new CRAFTSY class

To get right to the point, I have a new Craftsy class--WEAR WHAT YOU KNIT: perfect sweater fit and style. It is based upon a few of my most popular workshops, including my true favourite--KNIT TO FLATTER AND FIT.

The class  had just launched. And what follows here is a half-price link. (You might have to copy and paste, but it will work.) Please feel free to pass along--to your knitting group, your yarn shop, your knitters' guild!

www.craftsy.com/ext/SallyMelville_5231_H

Okay, so now I can give you a little information about the class subject?

• It starts with a lesson in which we look at yarn as fabric so we can pick the right ones. And then you are given the information you need so you can re-gauge an existing pattern (because sometimes that perfect yarn does not match the gauge of the pattern we love).
• Next there is a lesson in which we look at different styles and shapes to determine what you already know looks good on you. Included is information on how to modify existing patterns so they reflect this information. (An added bonus is what-you-need to make a lovely set-in sleeve that is both easy and that fits!!! No more cursing the set-in sleeve!)
• Following that is a lesson that clarifies size and ease. This answers those questions: a) what size do I knit and b) is ease included? (Additional info in this class is what to do when you can't get the size you need or fall between sizes.)
• Next is a lesson (that is probably the most enlightening) in which we get your relevant measurements. (The measurements-you-need are not scary but incredibly important. And mundane as this all sounds, it is huge and supported by visuals that show how important length is for different styles of sweaters.) 
• Once you have those measurements, you need to know how to use them! So there is material on how and where to change a pattern so the garment fits you perfectly.
• And finally,  we close with a wonderful lesson on STYLING--in which you see how important it is to wear your perfect sweater with the right style of pant or skirt. (For this, you are invited to play paper dolls, and how much fun is that!)

Again, please check it out, and pass the half-price link along to anyone who might be interested. Spread the word! It's really important stuff! The bottom line of this class--and a line I repeat often--is that this work allows us to knit what we wear and wear what we knit. And when we do so, we honour our craft. How wonderful!

If you know someone who needs to learn how to knit . . .

And don't we all? Know someone who could benefit from the patience and relaxation and optimism and calm and general well-being that knitting brings us?

I thought my daughter would forever be one of these. I did try to teach her as a child, but--my bad--I failed. My biggest mistake was to say "And so, you have 24 stitches: just try to maintain 24 stitches." She was too much of a perfectionist for that! Of course a 7 or 9 or 11 yr-old could not maintain 24 stitches!

And so I thought knitting would do that skip-a-generation thing. After all, my grandmother knit and my mother did not. Maybe my grandchildren would? I'd just have to be patient.

But then, the most amazing thing happened! One night, waiting for her to come home, I was teaching her artist/carpenter boyfriend (now her husband) to knit. She came home, looked at what he was doing, said (and I will never forget this) "I can do that," took his needles from him . . . and has been knitting ever since.

What some of you already know is that we wrote two books together. What most of you do not know is that she has been teaching beginners for 10 years! And she is amazing at it--probably because she learned relatively recently so could relate.

To my ever-lasting pleasure and pride, Craftsy has hired her to teach beginner classes. And they are wonderful! I am amazed ('though not sure why I would be) that her charm and intelligence and competence come through the camera. I am completely impressed at what she has taught herself and what she is able to teach others.

Here are half price links for the first two (of three) of her classes. Please pass them along to anyone who needs to learn how to knit! (I do not have good luck with these links, so you might need to copy and paste them into your browser?)

www.craftsy.com/ext/CaddyMelville-Ledbetter_4965_H






www.craftsy.com/ext/CaddyMelville-Ledbetter_4964_H

I never would have imagined this day and am so happy to share it with you!

holiday discount + retirement project

There is a very serious discount link at the end of this post!

 So, I turned 65 a short time ago, and--as I mentioned in my last post--this means I am "of an age" to call myself "retired." And truly, my life will be different . . . no more books (and the deadlines they produce) plus much less travelling to teach.

And for my retirement, I bought myself a spinning wheel. I realized, at a fibre event last year, that this is what I wanted for my retirement. Along with the wheel, I bought some roving in a nice colour.

And then I did pretty much everything wrong.

I did not take a class.
I did not read a book.
I did not watch a video.

I decided to just spin. If you had asked me what I knew about spinning, I would have said "Ask me what I don't know! The answer would be pretty much everything."

Even so, yarn moved through my fingers, my feet moved, the bobbin filled up with . . . something: see photo at left.  Did it look like anything I could knit with? Absolutely not! Was it pleasant? Yes. Was I obsessed? I'd say not. I put it aside for a bit.

Then it turned cold here--really cold. I was walking downtown and realized I needed one of those thick, soft cowls to pull up around my face. I thought I could spin one! I don't care how well spun it is: I could at least make enough for a cowl."

So back to the wheel. I filled two bobbins with more of what you see to above. Then I realized (DUH!) that I needed to ply the two together. So I watched PLY TO KNIT on Craftsy (highly recommended) and proceeded.

 

The resultant 2-ply was something I could knit.

Did I have enough for a cowl? No idea! But I decided to knit and see.

So I cast on with waste yarn.
I knit until I ran out.
I flipped it (to create a mobius).
I grafted the cast-on to the last row.

 And here is the result!

OMG, it is perfectly gorgeous!

It is exactly the size, colour, texture, thickness, and comfiness I wanted. 

I am smitten, hooked, obsessed!

Do you remember your first finished project? Do you remember wearing this new thing and telling everyone "I made it myself!!!" Do you remember being SOOOO proud!!!!

This is how I feel about my cowl! I am 12 years old again and so happy with what I have wrought!

I would wish each of you to have this wonderfully enthusiastic I-made-it-myself-isn't-it-beautiful experience. But I think it's something that can only come when it is a new-to-you skill? I am not sure we can be as enthusiastic when we have mastery over our craft?

Is there something you can give yourself to learn in the New Year that will take you to that place? If so, I would wish it or you.

And to help you in that regard, here is a link to very much discounted Craftsy classes.

: http://www.craftsy.com/ext/SallyMelville_holiday 

Without Craftsy, I might not have finished my cowl, would not have had the same success, would not be so thrilled with all I have yet to learn!

I wish the same for you! Have fun!!!

I think it's time . . .

Warning: this post is mostly personal stuff, but there is a knitting offering at the end.

You know how there are thoughts that occur to you as you get older--the ones that you previously thought unthinkable? Moving out of your home (into a retirement home or in with one of your kids)? Cutting your hair really really short? Getting rid of your car? Retiring? You see people around you doing these things, but you don't feel ready--and don't suppose you ever will be?

And then . . . the thing kinda sneaks up on you . . . and you give it a little more thought . . . and before you know it, you start thinking it's time to do this! And once that thought occurs, you can't go back! It actually becomes something you look forward to!

So, I did the first of these (the house thing) a year ago: I now share a renovated home with my daughter.

And I did the second two things a month ago: I both cut my hair (pixie cut) and got rid of my car. (Doing the first contributed to the second. How, you might ask? If you have really short hair, you can take off a bike helmet and still feel presentable. So biking it--spring, summer, fall--makes giving up the car possible. Mind you, the winter is a whole other matter. Do you remember last winter???? Might have to re-think the car thing then.)

And so, now, for the third: yes, I am preparing to retire. Not from knitting, not from writing patterns. But I have definitely retired from writing books. And I am preparing to retire from travelling to teach. 

About the books . . . I am primarily a teacher, and everything I know about knitting has appeared in one book or another--especially the last one. If I simply want to publish patterns, I will do so on Ravelry. Besides, I am a grandmother three times over, and that is incompatible with book deadlines.


About the travelling to teach . . . I was stuck in Little Rock, Arkansas, for 3 days of freezing rain, over my 64th birthday. I have nothing against Little Rock: the people are lovely (offered birthday cupcakes at the yarn shop, took me out to dinner, took me to see the Clinton Library which was so impressive I cried). But I have really bad luck with travel--delays, cancellations, missed connections, delayed luggage, weather--and I think I am getting too old to deal with it all.

Talking to my family from the Holiday Inn in Little Rock, I realized that one year from that day I could retire. And once the thought occurred, I was hooked!

Well, not completely: I would miss the students and the yarn shops and the events. But I will not miss the airports and hotel beds and the few days at home between. So my plan is to do maybe 6 gigs a year? Mostly the biggies--like Vogue Live, and Madrona--plus trips to wonderful places, plus whatever else comes my way. But again, no more than 6 gigs a year. My fall is still pretty full, but after that . . . we shall see. There is not much on my calendar for 2015.

And--here's why this particular post today--I will continue to teach for Craftsy! I have had one class (Intarsia) available for 6 months, and I am very grateful for the nearly 1400 students who have signed up. (Who knew so many would want to learn this relatively demanding technique!)

And now my second class is about to launch: Essential Techniques Every Knitter Should Know. This is based upon my, arguably, most popular class (Essential Skills), and I am thrilled they asked me to put it on their platform.

As long as this class is out there, I feel that my best work is available. And I feel like I can stop all that travelling. You can get the information from the comfort of your home, and I can sleep in my own bed!

So, for any of you interested, here is a coupon you can click for a really big discount. I hope you will check it out! And I hope to see you at some of the gigs I will still be doing. (I think you have to copy and paste the following line to get to the class and use the discount.)

www.craftsy.com/ext/SallyMelville_3997_H

I have a theory . . .

. . . and not much to support it. But when I propose this theory in my classes, lots of students nod in agreement. So I think it’s valid. (Having said that, most of my students are women: I have not experienced what a man in the room might say?)

So here is my theory—gleaned from many years of studying math, of teaching Study Skills plus knitting, . . . and of just hanging around women.

When I teach a pattern drafting class, a large number of students love it. These women tend to be the doctors and engineers and nurses and math teachers—of which there are surprisingly many in our world. Knitting, for many good reasons, attracts women with these interests.

But many of my female students do not love working with numbers—even when I insist that it is arithmetic we are doing and not, strictly, math! Even so, many profess to not love numbers. I myself like numbers and so have puzzled why women would say they don’t “do” numbers. Hence the following, unsupported theory.

I believe that men are the romantics while women are more practical.

A man wants to show his affection, so he brings home flowers. The woman might prefer he take out the garbage.

The man suggests dinner out? (A truly practical man would have arranged a babysitter. But how rare is that?) The woman might love the idea of a night out with no cooking—but—truth be told—she might have already planned dinner so might prefer that he watch the children while she cooks it? Or better yet, how much would she love the man who watches the children and cooks dinner while she knits?!

So back to the math. I believe that numbers, arithmetic, and math are taught in ways that appeal to the male of the species—and in a way that leaves some (and maybe many) of the girls behind. Algebra, as I remember it, was not taught with any application: it was just lines and theories. And the boys, being the more idealistic gender, ate it up. The girls might have asked how this was going to help them figure anything out??? But when, in my teaching of the set-in-sleeve, I show how Pythagorean Theorem explains why we don’t need pins when we sew in the sleeve cap, there’s a collective sigh in the room: so that’s what that was all about!

I have not been in a public classroom for a long time, but I can only hope that things have changed since I went to school? That numbers, arithmetic, and math are taught in a way that excites the more practical members of the species?

And speaking of the classroom, please consider using this link for a Craftsy class--at a reduced price. (One of the classes offered is mine, and I would be thrilled if you would join me. I can also tell you that teaching this class was one of the most professional and pleasant experiences of my life—in case you wondered.)

http://www.craftsy.com/ext/SallyMelville_holiday

Happy holidays to everyone! (July 1, Canada Day, for the Canadians. And, of course, July 4 for the Americans.)

lessons from a movie

I saw a wonderful movie on a plane the other day--a movie that my son recommended: The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. This movie was beautifully done but also reminded me of two lessons I already knew while also teaching me another.

Life is good if you have a supportive parent .(This one I knew.)
Walter had a mom who had his back. This is a fabulous way to go through life. (In that exercise of dividing people into two types, I often divide life by those who have this and those who don't.) It's not essential, but it surely helps.

My parents did not "have my back." (This was not altogether unusual in the 50's, a time I think of as cruel to children. This was certainly not everyone's experience, but it was mine.)  But I have learned that if you didn't have it, you can do your best to become it. That's a lesson I am most happy to have learned. And that's pretty cool.

If you do what you love, and do it well, life is good. (This one I knew.)
Not all of us get to "do what we love" for a living. And those who do are not always able to make a good living. But as we age, I think we learn to measure success differently. And finding a way to do what we love in the best way possible makes a life we can look back on with pride.

The beauty of travel is in doing ordinary things in extraordinary places. (This one I did not know.)
I think I, like everyone, go a little nuts when I travel--trying to do extraordinary things in the extraordinary places I are lucky to visit. But watching Walter play soccer in the Himalayas made me think of travel differently. How wonderful to watch him do this simple thing in that extraordinary place!

In this vein, I am reminded that when I do knitting cruises (which I usually do once a year and which I highly recommend), I land at a port and . . . look for a yarn shop! Why have I often felt a little guilty about this??? As if there was something extraordinary I should be doing instead? What could be more special than shopping for yarn?! And what joy it brings--to me, to the shop owners, to the others on the cruise when we share our purchases . . plus ever afterwards when I remember "I bought this yarn in the Shetland Islands!"

In future, I will put less pressure on myself when I travel--less pressure to do anything else but just walk down a street, smell the trees, have a coffee in a sidewalk cafe . . and buy yarn!

My long absence

I've not appeared here for a while and for a variety of reasons.

• I made myself crazy over the holidays.
• My hard drive died, so I had no computer for about a month.
• I was so busy travelling and teaching that I had no energy once home.
• I'm not sure I had much to say anyway.

But now, here are some things I have learned from each of the above bullet points.

You can hurt yourself knitting!
Admittedly, my injury began in a fitness class, by working with a ball that was too heavy. But then I took on far too much for my Christmas knitting: sewing a 3-layered skirt in Dora fabric and knitting a matching pink pullover (for one granddaughter); sewing flannel Batman pajamas and knitting a fleece hoodie (for the second granddaughter).

Doesn't sound too terrible? I did all of this in two-and-a-half-days!!!!

What started as a small rotator cuff injury was massively aggravated by my power knitting. I could barely knit, certainly could not exercise, and could hardly wash my hair for about a month. (Did you notice my priorities in that list? from most important to least?)

ART (Active Release Techniques) chiropractory saved me, as it had done before. But this was a particularly persistent and painful injury--and I still have trouble sleeping on my left side--so please don't do this to yourself! TAKE REGULAR BREAKS when you knit, or work on a computer, or do any small repetitive movements. (I have also learned that my arms need to be supported when I knit, else my shoulders rise above my ears, and I get into further trouble.)

Be prepared for a computer to die!
Apparently, they can just do this--fall over and drop dead--without actually falling over, and without any warning. I was teaching in Phoenix when my hard drive just died! Nothing, nada, zip! And here's what I have learned.

• Back up everything . . . always . . . every which way you can. (DUH!)
• Have another way to access your stuff. (This one translates to Thank God I bought an ipad in December!)
• When you close your computer, do not move it until you hear all internal noises stop. (If you have an older computer, apparently there is some disc thing that continues cycling for a few seconds. If you move your computer while this is moving, you can damage your hard drive.)
• If your hard drive dies, do not keep trying to start your computer. This can make your data non-recoverable. (I was lucky that I left the poor dead thing alone and so got all my data back--which was a good thing because I had not backed up for some months.)

Nature wants to conserve energy
Apparently, it is the natural inclination if all living things--and maybe even non-living--to conserve energy. Hence the law of inertia. Hence my inclination to come home from trips and just sit and knit and watch TV. (There is a lot of good TV these days, but still. . . .) This was, of course, made worse by the fact that I couldn't exercise. Talk about energy conservation! It all made me very very lazy, and I am glad that all has passed. We do have to constantly fight nature's inclination towards sloth.

When one has nothing to say . . . 
. . . one should probably say nothing! I really had no new insights or revelations to impart, so I did not find the energy to write. But, I recently learned something that I'd love to share with you. (I apologize to all of you who already know this and are thinking what took HER so long?)

Knitting is thought to been been "invented" in the Middle East between the 11th and 14th centuries--an interesting offshoot of which was a wonderful 14th C fashion to paint the knitting Madonna.


Early knitting was all in-the-round--because most early knitting was stockings. There were some garments, but they were relatively rare and steeked.

(Here's the part I found fascinating!) The purl stitch was not invented until the 16th century! How amazing is that?!?! People had knit for, literally, hundreds of years before discovering how to purl!

And even so, there wasn't all that much purling going on. Most knitting was in-the-round stockings, socks, hats, mitts, and gloves. (The exception to this would be shawls, because Victorian women certainly loved their lace work.) Sweaters were not a major knitting product until relatively recently--not until the 20th century. But once they came on the scene--whether produced in factories or in the home--most of them were knit-flat-and-seamed.

So even though the purl stitch had been discovered in the 16th century, it was not widely used until the 20th--almost within our lifetimes! I found that quite fascinating, especially as someone who is hard-core set against in-the-round sweaters.

I do hope to learn stuff, discover stuff, want to share stuff . . . and not be away for so long again. But thanks to all who wrote to make sure my long absence was not the result of bad news or ill health. I appreciate your concern more than you know.

why and what we knit

I've written about all the good and healthy reasons for knitting: see In defense of knitting, parts 1-10, (written between Jan 23, 2012 to Feb 23, 2013). And whether or not we know all the science discussed in those posts, we know intuitively that knitting is a good way to engage our hands and pass our time.

But if we had asked our grandmothers why they knit, they would not have talked about health benefits. They would not have said I like the meditative state knitting induces. And they would not have talked about lessons in patience. They would have talked about knitting as product, not process.

I've talked about knitting as product before, to the extent of establishing my own personal rant: knit what you wear, wear what you knit. But I have recently discovered another entree into this subject, and I'm encouraged to share it with you.

Okay, if we think about knitting purely as product, why and what do we knit? 

1. Knitting as ART
How to define knitting as ART? We know it when we see it: a piece that hangs on a gallery wall, a piece that makes a statement! a piece from one of our renowned designers (someone who exhibits in the Royal Albert Museum).

We can replicate these pieces of famous designers, or we can create something of our own--perhaps a 72-row lace shawl in a hand-dyed. The results are wonderful and much to be admired.

But when a member of the general public (MOTGP) sees one of these pieces, she (and I use the generic she here) does not think Wow, I need to learn how to knit so I can do that! She sees an art sweater as completely beyond her abilities--and perhaps not even hand-knit. Unless she knows you well, she doesn't know that lace shawl didn't come off a machine in China!

And there's another thing to be said about knitting as ART. When we wear a piece of art, we can feel as if the piece is wearing us rather than us wearing it. (I will never forget watching a woman struggle with, and then throw down, her  Kaffe Fassett coat, saying I am tired of this piece wearing me! The coat was heavy and unshaped: it was beautiful but uncomfortable.) It goes without saying that walking around in a piece of art might not be something many of us can manage?

2. Knitting as CRAFT
And what is knitting as CRAFT? We know this when we see it too. It might be the best incarnation of our most well-known knitting techniques: fairisle (and please excuse my use of the machine knitting term), intarsia, Aran, lace, double or modular knitting. All of these are express our craft in its most recognizable and most beloved fabrics.

But when a MOTGP sees one of these pieces, she will--again--not think Wow, I need to learn to not so I can do that! These pieces are also seen as beyond her abilities. Yes, she will know it's hand knit, but she will not see it as something can ever make.

AND she might see one of these garments as something she would not easily wear. Think for a moment of these high-craft pieces with their complications of stitch and/or colour. To avoid difficulties through shaping, they are most often drafted as drop shoulders. And while I frequently find myself defending the drop shoulder in classes, students will insist that they don't like it: it doesn't fit, it's uncomfortable, it's sloppy, or it has too much fabric at the underarm.

So, when we knit for CRAFT--and hone our knitting techniques to their highest level--we can make garments that are beautiful but not necessarily flattering. (I will never forget a story told by a woman who made my set-in sleeved Gray Cardigan: the first time she wore it someone said Oh how exquisite! It looks hand knit, but then I realized it couldn't be because it fits you too well.) Wrongly or not, making ill-fitting garments seems to be our reputation: I wonder if knitting purely for craft doesn't contribute to this a bit?

3. Knitting as FASHION
I remember my friend, Lee Andersen, telling us in a workshops that we needed to know why we were knitting: which of these 3 was our highest priority, art, craft, or fashion? I knew I was knitting for FASHION. And I also knew I as in the minority.

Some students thought FASHION meant HIGH FASHION, so they didn't see that as a reason to knit. But I didn't take it that way. I took it to mean fashion something with my hands that would express my personal fashion. 

Another reason (I was in a minority) might be that, unlike our grandmothers, we of this generation knit for process--because we can afford to, because we can (with globalization) buy what we wear. We know that purchased garment is the right colour, the right length, the right size. None of these are guaranteed with our hand knits. So we knit for art and we knit for craft--worthy reasons to spend our money on yarn and our time on knitting.

BUT, as said earlier, we don't produce pieces that a MOTGP recognizes as attainable or wearable. So if we knit for FASHION, might this change. And what would those attainable and wearable pieces be?

Look in your closet: what do you wear most often? Simple shapes? Solid colours? Pieces that fit? Pieces with something of interest that raises them beyond the purely simple?

These are the things that express my personal fashion. And I can tell you that rarely do I wear a hand knit without a MOTGP (a sales person in a women's clothing store, a customer in a shoe store, a stranger at an airport, a member of the cleaning staff at a hotel, a waitress in a restaurant) stopping me to say  

• I love your top / vest / sweater!
• Where did you get it?
• You KNIT IT? It doesn't look hand knit!!!
• Was it difficult? 
• Could I do it?

Or some version of the above. Every time. And I'm going to make a major assumption here by asking if this is not a reaction we'd all--at least occasionally--want?

How do we get that reaction? For every piece we knit as ART, for every piece we knit as CRAFT, we should knit one piece for FASHION! They won't be the most interesting or technique-heavy pieces we knit, but we--knitters, our community, our craft, and the MOTGP--will all be better for it!

Isn't marketing wonderful?

I wrote that title somewhat wistfully. 'Tho' I wish I understood marketing, I don't. I do admire it when I see it well done, but--sadly--my creativity does not walk that way.

Having said that, when someone points me in the right direction, I am happy to join the parade. So, in that vein, if anyone here is attending VOGUE LIVE in NYC in January, and IF you sign up for one of my classes using the following code, you will receive a free gift.

NYTEACHER14

What's not to love?
Hope to see you there!

What makes a great design?

I've been drafting my own patterns since I was 11 years old. The reason for this is that a) I was naturally a loose knitter, b) my mother did not knit, c) I had no-one to tell me how to measure gauge (other than just pushing stitches around on the needle and laying the tape measure along said needle! DUH!) So I started drafting before I had the slightest clue as to what I was doing!

Best thing that every happened to me! I wouldn't have the life I have if any of a, b, or c had not been my reality. I believe (rightly or wrongly) that I would have knit but just followed patterns as written. OMG, who would I have become?  Probably a high-school Math and English teacher (who knit) and wrote (never-published-because-they-were-very-bad) novels.

But a, b, and c were my reality! And the advantages were legion!

• I teach, but through books or in classrooms that could be anywhere in the English-speaking world.
• I keep my brain alive and healthy by the very-good-work of pattern drafting (which Rudolf Steiner, who began the Waldorf Schools, recognized when he called knitting the perfect human activity and made mandatory for all 6-yr olds in his system--for its hand-eye coordination, promotion of math skills, heightened ability to focus, and generation of the ability to think spatially).

(Sorry for the length of that parenthetical item. My alter-ego English teacher shudders.)



But through those many years of drafting, I've designed (the conceptual work) some really nasty stuff. And I've also done some stuff of which I am really proud. Included in the latter is my new, all-time-favourite piece: L'ENVELOPPE (of course, available on Ravelry).
http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/lenveloppe

How can I say that this is my ATF piece? Because never before have I made six of something within one month of its birth. And never before have I made something that is admired every time I wear it.

So I wondered, What makes a great design? After just over 50 years of this design and drafting work, here's what I have only recently discovered and decided as my own personal criteria.

The piece must have some drafting challenges
The piece I have just done was probably knit three times before I got it right. And I'm grateful for that! I want that challenge: makes me know I'm alive and working! If the process is too easy, it's unsatisfying.

The piece must be easy to knit
While I'm not averse to complex knitting, my favourite things are easy to knit. This is where I probably differ from the majority, but I love stuff that I can knit while watching a move (with closed-captioning), reading a book, having a conversation. And I suppose I'm happy when I know the piece is accessible to a majority--which easier stuff might be.

 The piece must keep me engaged through the knitting
Here's the real kicker! To get something easy-to-knit but within which something is happening that keeps us engaged (and brain cells firing) is the best of all possible worlds. I love, love, LOVE when I can accomplish this.
 
I must love to wear it
Well, isn't this our bottom line??? What's the advantage to satisfying all of the above--or any other criteria--if we don't love wearing it.


Every time I wear it, it is admired
Clearly, I mis-spoke. This is our bottom line! We want people to notice what we are wearing, we want them to comment upon what we are wearing, we want them to want what we are wearing.

Unfortunately, this last one can have its downside. I do have this commented upon every time I wear it--by men, by women, by knitters, by non. And it's the latter who are sometimes a problem. Because they insist that I will make them one. (I believe they believe I should be flattered to be asked?) And, just sometimes, they don't understand thanks but no thanks for an answer. So then I, very politely, launch into The cost of our knits (which I wrote about here, Nov 1, 2012).

I did give one, very persistent woman the name of her nearest yarn shop and the link for the pattern, assuming the yarn shop could a) teach her to knit or b) find someone who wouldn't mind making it for her. I will see this woman again, so that'll be an interesting follow-up.

Back to the subject at hand, I have satisfied all of the above with this most recent piece. And I think I have done so with two others in my design history: the Einstein Coat and my Summer Sweater. Is three enough for one lifetime?

Whatever the "great design" criteria is for me, I'm not sure it would be the same for you. So I'm curious: how does this work for you? And how many do you own?  

my round rant

What's a round rant? It's my rant against a fairly recent but widespread aberration (and I do not use that term lightly) to knit garments in-the-round. How do I know how widespread it is? Because I am asked for in-the-round garment patterns, because I am asked how to convert existing garment patterns to in-the-round, because yarn shop owners tell me they are asked for in-the-round garment patterns, because they say that's the first question they're asked about a new pattern: is it in-the-round?

Why do people think they want this? Because, when making sweaters, dresses jackets, or coats, they don't like to sew side seams.

Okay, so let's look at this from every possible angle to see if there are any good reasons to support knitting-in-the-round as an effort to avoid side seams or for any other reason.


Disclosure: what follows is long, comprehensive, and forcefully opinionated!

1. What happens after we reach the armhole?
So, I say, you knit in-the-round to the armhole. Then what do you do?

One answer is Oh, well, then I start knitting back and forth. I'll ask if their knitting doesn't look different when they go back-and-forth rather than round-and-round? Well, yes, but I don't like to sew side seams.

An alternative answer is I keep knitting in the round but cut and sew for the armholes. And I, quite honestly, wonder in what universe it's easier to cut-and-sew rather than to learn to sew side seams?

2. How difficult are those side seams?
One thing that confounds me is the wish to avoid side seams when they are, in fact, the easiest seams to master and the most invisible of our seams. If executed properly (and more of that in the next section), our side seams--in stockinette and with mattress stitch--are absolutely invisible!  They aren't invisible in sewing, but they are in knitting. Aren't we lucky!!!

Our shoulder seams aren't invisible, and they are more difficult to master. The same can be said of our drop shoulder or set-in-sleeve armhole seams: not invisible, not as easily mastered. So for most of our garments, we accept that some sewing is required. And we accept that they may be neither easy nor invisible. So why on earth are we so eager to avoid the one that is both easy and invisible!?!

3. Have we put thought into our selvedge stitches?
Having seen the request for in-the-round so often, I had to ask where it came from. And here's one thought.

Perhaps this comes from newer knitters who started with hats and mitts and cowls--without seams. So, they ask, why do I need seams in a knit garment. My head is round, my body is round: what's the difference? This is a very valid question, and I'll answer it in the next section.

It could also come from new knitters who started with scarves. Scarves are usually knit in garter stitch (knit every row), and for these we employ 2 popular selvedge stitches:

• knit the first and last stitch of every row (offering a neat edge)
• slip the first stitch of every row (offering a pretty edge, almost decorative, edge).

So we graduate and wish to produce a garment--probably not done in garter, some version of stockinette being the norm. And we notice rather immediately that the edge stitches are butt ugly. So we carry forward a memory of those selvedge stitches and think there's our answer! We can neaten the edges by knitting them or slipping them.

And it's not just newer knitters who use these selvedge stitches. There are many more experienced knitters (who I meet in my classes) who use garter or slip for selvedges. Some of them figured it out for themselves; some were taught to do this; some are following a pattern that directs them to do this.

So all these knitters--new or old--then wonder why they don't like their seams. Why? Because these are TERRIBLE choices for the execution of side seams!!!!

• Slip stitches are pretty, but they transfer the ugliness of the stockinette stitch to the stitch next door: so the pretty slip-stitch goes into the seam, and the ugly stockinette stitch rides along the RS of the work. 
• Garter stitches are pretty, but they want to lie flat--rather than nicely turning the corner into the side seam. So we get bulky seams, because this stubborn, knotty little thing fights our seam.

No wonder these folks want to avoid side seams!  With these selvedges, they are difficult to execute and look awful.

• If selvedge stitches are worked as stockinette stitches, they are not pretty, but they roll to the back and produce invisible side seams. (The seam itself falls into the trough between stitches.) It's a wondrous and beautiful thing that doesn't happen in other stitches or crafts.

Once, when explaining all this in class, a student asked So why do patterns tell us to do this? My answer was that The pattern was written for the knitter not for the sweater. The knitter can say What a good job I did on this piece. But then she tries to seam it . . . and thinks the seam is the problem when it was--quite simply--her choice of selvedge stitches.

4. Why do we need side seams?
 So maybe I have explained why people don't like sewing, maybe not. But it's a very valid question to ask why we need those seams anyway?

Why? Because side seams are the skeleton to the garment, helping it hold shape over time.

Think about this. We do not own garments without side seams. Look in your closet: not only does everything have side seams but, if the garment is long, it has a centre-back seam. We don't own skirts or dresses or jackets or coats without both side and centre-back seams. Why? Because fabric needs structure so it won't stretch over time.

The only garment we might own without a centre-back seam could be a T-shirt made from a tube of knit jersey. And what happens after we wash it? It skews! The side seams go wonky. This is what knit fabric does.

And speaking of fabric, most of what's in our closets is not knit: it's fabric, which has inherently more structure than our knits. Still, all those pieces have side seams. Why, oh why would we want to remove this structure from our more flexible knits?

5. What further reason might we have for side seams?
I also know that when we knit in-the-round what we get is what we get. When finished, we block it and see . . . hmmm . . . who will this fit?!? No matter how experienced we are, gauge can surprise us. Yes, we knit a swatch. But no, the finished gauge may not have cared to play by the same rules.

So, if we knit back-and-forth (front and back as separate pieces with seams to join them), we can knit a piece and discover Wow, that's not gonna fit! It's too big! So we call it the front and make the back in a smaller size. And if it's too small, we call it the back and make the front larger. We can do this--and make something that fits--if we did not knit-in-the-round. (I explore this in my book KNITTING PATTERN ESSENTIALS, in the chapter When things don't turn out as expected.)

6. What exceptions are there to all this?
As I said earlier, it is perfectly appropriate to knit hats, mitts, cowls, etc, in-the-round.

And we may also knit garments in-the-round to avoid purling. When's that? When working two-colour (sometimes called fairisle) pieces. For these, the tradition is to knit in the round and to steek for front, neck, and armhole openings.

But I can honestly say that since learning (and teaching) how to purl with one yarn around the neck (and another in the right or left hand or also around the neck), I've converted myself (and students who've learned these technique) to knitting two-colour pieces flat and with side seams. Seems (sorry for the pun) way less intimidating than steeking, cutting, sewing, with all the skill set that demands.

 So that's my rant. It's supported by yarn shops who say Yes, we know they shouldn't be knitting in-the-round, but it's our job to give them what they want.

I see it as my job to help knitters make pieces that fit and will be worn--pieces that do honour to our craft. And this particular rant is a huge part of this mission.

when you can't just buy a blender . . . again!

Some of you may remember my knitting an afghan for my grandson's wedding . . . about a year ago. . . . from a Pat Ashforth design . . . bemoaning that I had to give this beautiful piece away because I just could not buy a blender for this precious young man and his wife-to-be.

And you might remember that just as I was finishing it I got a phone call that his sister was engaged. Another afghan to knit!

This time I worked up my own design--based on our family's love of the Log Cabin  design. For this young woman, softer colours were chosen. And, judging by her reception, they were the right choice.

I wish I had a better photo of it, but I was rushing out the door to a family reunion and the gift's delivery. What I can say is that it is very beautiful but also very traditional. And that it was fun to knit. Hers, which you can see here, is six squares x six squares, but I am about to do a smaller 4 x 4 one for myself: that's how much I loved doing it!


I've added it as a free RAVELRY download: http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/let-the-yarn-do-the-work-lot-cabin-afghan. I hope you'll consider making one if you need a wedding gift for a very special person.

By the way, while at the reunion, I stayed at my grandson's place and--of course--looked for the afghan. It was not in the living room as expected! I was so worried that they didn't love (and use) it as much as they said they did and would . . . until I looked in their TV room. And there it was, not neatly folded over the back of the couch but bunched up on the sofa! Clearly much loved and much used, exactly as reported by my grandson and by his sister. (I could kinda tell when she got hers that she was kinda expecting one and very happy to not be disappointed.)

What a lovely thing when you know your gift is appreciated. Not that a blender wouldn't be . . . but still . . .

welcome to my knitting cave

As promised, photos of my new knitting room--which I've dubbed my knitting cave because of it's size and cosiness: 8½' x 7' (as opposed to my previously spacious 9' x 9').

But I love it! I sit and admire it, I take every opportunity to walk through it, and I had my first really good's night sleep after it was finished. (In the night, I'd wake . . . wrestling with things I wanted to get done: one whole night I lost 3 hrs of sleep, thinking about the wall calendar I'd make the next day!) But now, despite whatever other parts of the reno remain un-done, my knitting cave gives me peace and brings me home!

Here you can see a straight-on shot of my daughter's drawing (beside the larger one my son did, both mentioned in the previous post but not shown well): two drawings of girls picking flowers, one done when she was 4, the other when she was 5. Both are done on needlepoint canvas.

In addition, here's one she did later . . . of a sick girl in bed. (Don't you love the look on her face?) This one is cross-stitch embroidery rather than needlepoint--which, as you probably know, goes much faster. It sits on a wall opposite my knitting cave--a wall dedicated to family art (already in-hand or yet to come).

For those of you equally challenged by space, I recommend the following:

• the up filer--shown in the photo below--instead of an on-the-floor filing cabinet (Other, not-so-used files are in the basket of my rolling cart.)

• the ISO daybed--shown in the photo above (I really do need a space for a guest. Plus it's a comfy chair and recliner when not laid out to bed size.)
• using the upper wall space for wire shelves that hold baskets of yarn--also shown in the photo above (numbered and recorded on my computer)

Again, I love my knitting cave and wish you the same corner of your home to thusly love and cherish.

the products you see
Thanks to the internet for allowing me to find the following products that I would never have been able to otherwise access.

BTW, I am in no way paid of even acknowledged for my mention of these things. I only put the information here to save any who are interested from having to ask.

• For the up filer system, http://www.westervilledesign.com/universal-vertical-rack1.html.
• For the ISO daybed, I can't find the company's website, so all I can give you is this: http://mikazahome.com/product_info.php?cPath=3_37&products_id=982. Perhaps you are better at navigating the internet to find the company itself?
• For anyone who wants to know about the wall calendar, here's the DIY site for that: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJ7aRvt8H5c. I did it with my granddaughter, and you might imagine her responsible for the uneven cutting and glueing . . . but . . . no, that would be me. Like an errant child, I love my calendar for all its flaws and idiosyncrasies. (But I do wonder what the people in the hardware store think when we walk off with 42 paint chips?)
  
   

immortalizing children's art

Here are photos of my old knitting room.

And here's what I would wish you to see.

• Because there was no ceiling fixture in the room . . . and I don't love standing lamps . . . and I needed yarn storage, my builder guy designed shelves to hold my baskets of yarn that also housed lighting. Very well done!
• The loveseat is a sofa bed (which my granddaughter calls her secret bed), and on it is a much-loved and much-repaired granny squares afghan made by my grandmother. Much time was spent as a child, trying to figure out which square's colour combo I liked best. I believe that my love of fibre began with this piece.
• On the bookcase is a previous gift--one of those double-layered bowls whose segments are filled with yarn scraps, presented to me by some Toronto knitters.
• Over the desk is a quilt that is my window in a windowless room.
• On the walls are pieces of needlework done by family members.

And this last is what I wish to pass along to you today--the concept of turning drawings into needlework.

Ignore the photo below for the moment, and notice what sits over the sofabed--a Four Seasons piece I did, based upon a scene in a J. R. R. Tolkein calendar. This is my least exciting piece (although it was done the same as what follows).

The other two (shown enlarged below) are based upon drawings my children did. (I'm sorry for the lack of detail and for the angle, especially on the smaller piece. I will be sure to take a head-on shot when my new knitting room photos are posted.)

One day my just-turned-five-years-old son showed me a drawing he'd done of a T-Rex. (Do you know a little boy who didn't go through a dinosaur phase???) I loved it and asked if he could do more . . . which he did. I immediately knew that these drawings (and this phase of his life) had to be preserved, so I did the following:

• bought a large piece of needlepoint canvas,
• laid it over the drawings,
• traced his drawings,
• worked them all in needlepoint in exactly the colours in which he had drawn them.

If I had know how much time it was going to take to fill in the background, I might have crowded things a little more! But I asked Jeremy to help fill some of the background spaces, and he happily did.

Oh yes, and I had also made him title and sign the piece, right onto the needlepoint canvas, and that was worked into the piece also.

My husband framed it, and there it is, probably the most precious thing I own. I can still name those dinosaurs, from right to left: Brontosaurus, Tyrannosaurus Rex, Tricerotops, Stegosaurus, Pterodactyl, Ankylosauraus, a head-on shot of Tricerotops, and Brachiosaurus.

But next I needed to do something to immortalize my daughter's drawings, especially since she drew constantly. So I found some faves I had saved--the egg-head "girl" drawn when she was four, and the second girl, drawn when she was five. She told me they were picking flowers, so I asked her to draw them too.

The process was the same as my son's, and she signed hers also. The frame came from a discarded piece of art.

You would probably recognize that this is really, really easy to do? And I have done others over the years that were just embroidered (or cross-stitched) onto fabric--without the need to fill all that background. But I don't love them as much as the needlepoint pieces, probably because I knew I was cutting corners.

However these are produced, they make great gifts. And to be true, the original idea came from a gift. A friend was attending a wedding with her son. To keep him busy during the ceremony, she gave him pencil and paper and asked him to draw the bride and groom. She then embroidered his picture, framed it, and gave it as a wedding gift.

I did the same when friends were building their home. I asked their four-year-old daughter to draw the house. I transferred the drawing to some cloth and then embroidered it--with long lazy strokes, so it looked like she had done the embroidery herself. This one took no time at all. We framed it, it was delivered as a house-warming gift, and it became a much-loved piece at the centre of their home.

I am now  living in a renovation. My new knitting room will be even smaller, but it will still have those shelves and will still feature the kids' drawings. Truly, they are the most precious pieces--moments in time from my little ones, drawing what they knew and loved.