Sunday, February 03, 2008

Irish Hiking Scarf and other stories

Hi guys

It is very remiss of me not to have blogged much lately, I am sorry. Life does have a nasty habit of interfering with one's knitting. I have made a little progress though, so let me tell you about the Irish Hiking Scarf I'm knitting for Ed. Here it is:


It's coming along well. It is my travelling project so I knit it on buses and trains and I got loads done sitting at the back of a conference the other day. The yarn, you'll recall, is Rowan Cocoon, which includes kid mohair, so it's slightly hairy but still not so fluffy that you can't see the pattern. I'm knitting the pattern on the prescribed 42 sts, I've used up two balls of yarn so far and I'm thinking that half a ball more will probably do it. When it comes to blocking, I'm unsure what to do. Fierce blocking for maximum stitch display? Or gentle blocking for maximum elasticity and spring in the finished scarf? Your opinions welcome.

In other news, I am ploughing on with Joe's red Edan sweater and I've nearly finished the second sleeve. Joe is a bit disgusted with how long it's taking. I am sorry, but not sorry enough to stop scarf-knitting alongside the jumper.

The new Rowan magazine arrived at my house today. Oh, Rowan. It never fails to disappoint. I just keep buying it out of loyalty because it's a lovely British yarn brand. A bit of a national institution, like John Lewis or something. But the fact is, they really need to come up with a new fashion story. If I see any more pictures of bored, embarrassed models wafting around the English countryside in floaty skirts and shapeless lacy jumpers, I will scream. Rowan, will you please wake up! Some of us live in urban environments and got over wanting to dress up like a fairy by the time we were 8 years old.

I ask you. Beelzebub has no time for such frippery.
Next time, a review of The Knitting Circle, by Ann Hood: a novel about knitting which distinguishes itself by being slightly less awful than The Friday Night Knitting Club, by the nearly-illiterate Kate Jacobs.