Mom on the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard, 1997.

Today is my mother’s birthday. She would have been – wait, should I say? She might not like that. Well…she would have been 68. I wish I could throw some kind of birthday party for her, or at least take her out to lunch and ask her how swollen her feet got when she was pregnant, or what she thinks of Mad Men.

This is one of the difficulties of May: first Mother’s Day, and then her birthday. [Perhaps next year we will have shifted over to UK Mother's Day, which is in March?] You people who like your knitting blogs full of knitting probably don’t know which end is up.

Mom used to have amazing birthday parties for us; I just came across a whole bunch of photos of one of mine. I think I was in fifth or sixth grade. There are at least 30 kids there – maybe all the girls in my grade? – and I remember there being crafts and goody bags and all kinds of nifty stuff (which may be par for the course these days, actually…but seemed amazing back in the 80s). The nifty stuff included my grandmother, dressed as a fortune teller, using an old goldfish bowl to see our futures.

[I am certain that this happened, but knowing my grandmother the mind boggles.]

As I told you all last month, Mom used to call on my birthday and give me little tidbits about what she was doing on the day I was born: she woke up, there were some contractions, she decided to go to the garage sale anyway, her water broke while she was there, she had to get a cab from there to the hospital…you get the idea. Sometimes she’d give me the whole story in one go, but sometimes she’d draw it out and call at different times during the day (“This time 23 years ago, you had arrived! But the cafeteria was closed, and I was really, really hungry, so I sent your father out for a cheeseburger!”). There were years when this tradition of hers seemed hilarious, and years when it seemed really embarrassing. But (looking ahead to our daughter’s birth) I now realize that one’s birthday doesn’t just belong to oneself: it also belongs to one’s mother. And I wonder whether Mom’s mother did something similar on her birthday.

Anyway, for some reason today the idea of a birthday party is in my head. I so wish I’d had a great big party for my mother when she was alive. We did have a party for her 60th birthday, but what I remember most about that is a grand saga trying to get the cake there on time. This weekend, I think the baby and I and Mr. Trask will go to the Randolph Hotel for tea to celebrate Jane. She stayed there when she visited me in Oxford many years ago, and we loved having high tea together there. Mmm, high tea.

The Randolph Hotel, 1995. Photo by Jane Lawton.

And then it also occurs to me that I might make something for her. I have this beautiful red yarn that was given to me by my mother-in-law, and I’ve never made it into the “something to wrap yourself in” that we’d planned. But it’s a gorgeous shade of red, just the shade Mom liked, and if I make something in honor of her but wear it myself then she’ll be pleased. I know, because she used to say, “Why don’t you wear more color near your face?”

I’m tempted by the Leaflet pattern from Knitty, but would love to hear your suggestions. What would Jane Lawton wear?

Now, I realize that I just talked myself into eating a sumptuous meal, and knitting something for myself, somehow to celebrate my mother’s birthday…but hey. I think she’d approve.

Pretty red yarn in our back garden during unusual heat wave. What Would Jane Wear?

I don’t seem to have any photos of Scotland 1994, but here’s Jane Lawton at the Inauguration Parade in 1993 (I think). Isn’t she gorgeous and fun?

Another Mother’s Day (US) is here, and this one’s a new one for me: Mr. Trask and I are expecting our first child, and so I’m both remembering my own mother and aware that next year (if all goes well) I will be a mother myself. This is one of those times, like weddings or graduations, when I become aware of the passage of time. Recently, a friend on Facebook posted that his college graduation was half a lifetime ago, and asked what the rest of us were doing [half our age] years ago.

Me, I was just a few months away from that crazy road trip through Scotland with Jane Lawton. It was only my second trip to Europe, and my mother planned most of it. A close family friend had ties to Scotland and gave us lots of advice; we flew into and out of Glasgow and spent some time both there and in Edinburgh, but the highlight of the trip was to be our drive through the rural areas, taking in lochs and villages. Lovely!

Now, you people know that driving in the U.K. is on the left, as opposed to on the right in the United States. And those of you who know how old I am will have done the math and know that I was between my first and second years in college: still a teenager, but barely. Teenagers are not generally known for their patience and tolerance.

Do you all remember that phase of your lives when your mother could really get under your skin? When there were moments that her very existence seemed to be an affront to, not just your independence, but your very dignity? Well, just put her in a foreign country and make her drive manual with the opposite hand, on the opposite side of the road. Put the controls for the car in completely different places. Give her a map of a rural area and get her to ask her daughter to navigate. [And, people, I am still a bad navigator.]

As many people do when they’re first learning to drive, Mom kept centering herself in the road instead of the car; that put my side of the car, the left one, into the bushes by the side of the road. We’d approach roundabouts with fear and trembling, Mom laughing nervously. As she started the turn, she’d flick the turn signal on the car, which would turn out to be the windshield wipers, and we’d careen into the traffic circle with me yelling “Go left!” and her giggling. Oh, it was embarrassing, even though there we were the only ones in the car: that cosmic embarrassment one feels as a teenager, in which one’s parents’ very existence is humiliating.

Three things saved the trip:

1. my mother’s unending patience;
2. our mutual appreciation for the absurd (even though mine was only intermittently in play);
3. knitting. [You all knew that was coming, right?]

I’m not sure what inspired me to bring yarn with me on the trip, but I had several skeins of gorgeous Manos Del Uruguay Wool Clasica in different solid jewel tones, and I was making a scarf for my boyfriend. [Every person who saw the scarf told me it was a Doctor Who scarf; at the time, I had no idea what that meant.] I knit through most of the terrifying and embarrassing moments of the car ride, and I do think that things went the better for it. It might have saved me making 2 of every 3 obnoxious teenager comments about Mom’s driving. The scarf ended up being really, really long; I think I just had to keep knitting to stay sane, the way one does.

Plus, the scarf me to my first knitting event. The owner of a bed and breakfast where we stayed (a man who always wore a kilt: memorable quote, “Trousers wear out. A kilt is forever,”) saw me knitting and told us about a nearby sheep and wool festival; my patient mother drove us there. I remember walking past many sheepy booths and buying some rustic yarn, and seeing an introduction to different wooly animals that culminated with the introduction of “the most fearsome creature here,” according to the announcer: a tiny, pitiful-looking cashmere goat.

The trip wasn’t all near-death experiences. It’s also when I learned that Scotland is a beautiful, green, misty wonderland. It’s when we saw Noises Off! in Glasgow and laughed so hard we cried, and when we saw Macbeth performed by high school students in Edinburgh, possibly during the festival, and when we saw something in Pitlochry (although for the life of me I can’t remember what). It’s when we figured out why tea is so important: it saves you on a rainy afternoon, and so many afternoons are rainy in Scotland. It’s when I learned how great it is to knit on a road trip; it’s when I realized how much I liked traveling, especially in the United Kingdom.

As I look toward having my own daughter, I know I’m going to have days when she looks at me like I am just the worst, the most humiliating being on the face of the planet. This must be cosmic justice, and I only wish Mom were here to have the satisfaction of seeing me get the treatment I occasionally dished out. In the near term, I’m planning to drive here starting this summer or fall, and I feel sure some part of her spirit is going to be watching me and gloating a little as I struggle. Or at least laughing that nervous laugh as I head for the roundabouts.

So, on this Mother’s Day, I say: thanks, Mom, for taking me to Scotland. Thanks for the spirit of adventure that brought you to plan the trip, and for the gumption that helped you continue, and for not smacking me upside the head when I said, in a condescending tone, “God. Those are the windshield wipers.” You were the most patient of women, and the most fun. I hope I’ll be half the fun and crazy you were.

Mom and me in the gardens at Blenheim Palace in 1995. Her trip to Oxford is another story for another time, but you can assume this is about what we looked like in Scotland. My hair doesn’t look great…and neither does that hat. It was the ’90s.

Meanwhile, I seem to have gotten rather large (apparently 31 weeks of pregnancy will do that for you), and I am trying to return to real life, or whatever life this Oxford adventure is. Mr. Trask and I are preparing for the baby, which in Mr. Trask’s case involves sensible things like balancing our budget and his work calendar, and in my case involves…knitting. Of course. You all have already seen what I’ve made for the baby, but here’s something I didn’t expect: you people made things, too. And mailed them to England! Can you believe it?

Duck Socks from Zoë . So cute, and a free Knitty pattern.

The first package that arrived was from Zoë, who lives in Canada and did some test knitting for my book a while back. Apparently, Zoe has been cranking these duck socks out for lucky babies everywhere, and she’s ready to give you advice and support if you decide to make a pair. Pop on over to her blog and let her know that you, too, dream of ducky feet.

Package from Emily, who knows that knitters like to knit.

The next package was from Emily, who sent me a fibre space care package: Neighborhood Fiber Co. Studio Sport and a project bag. Emily knows that knitters like to knit! I started a Baby Surprise Jacket with the yarn, then realized that the yarn just wants to be something else (does this happen to you guys?). As Emily herself pointed out, the colorway, Victorian Village, is similar to the color I used for my Tea Leaves Cardigan a couple of years ago. Tiny Tea Leaves would be an option, then, except that the gauge is wrong. So I’m thinking about a Garter Yoke Baby Cardi. Anyone else have ideas?

At this point, it’s starting to feel like you guys are throwing a virtual baby shower for me. It’s amazing! I get teary thinking about it. Seriously. [I also got teary watching Avengers Assemble a couple of weeks ago. I'm less embarrassed about baby-shower-by-mail tears than I am about superhero tears.]

The next package was from Becky, another sample knitter for the book who has become a friend. Becky was totally silent about this package – it just appeared out of the blue one day, with Bisquick Gluten Free Pancake Mix (an amazing treat) and this:

Amazing Blanket from Becky. When did she find the time?

Becky knit this blanket in her free time…and she has a kid to chase around the house. Super-duper impressive. Who else wants to be Becky when they grow up?

Anyway, knitters are amazing. Not only the three women who sent me fabulous yarny packages, but also all those who have sent me notes about their own pregnancies and their experiences as new mothers, and all of you who have posted comments on the blog, and…just…all of you. I am really overwhelmed and grateful. When I started this blog, I don’t think I realized anyone was going to actually read it. <sniff sniff>

Moving along so you don’t have to see a pregnant lady cry – I’ll be back to a better blog schedule next week. Be aware that Sunday is Mother’s Day in the US, so you’ll be reading another Jane Lawton post from me. Forewarned is forearmed.

Lastly, Jennifer R. won the handspun from Cardiff from the last giveaway. Congratulations, Jennifer! Stay tuned for a bit more yarn in the coming weeks. In the meantime, how about some advice on what to knit with my beautiful pink skein of yarn? I am nothing if not suggestible.

The magic of the knitting obsession is that every one of these made me feel I was in the right place during a time when I felt pretty discombobulated. Has that ever happened to you? A knitter on the subway or an airplane, an amazing knitting-themed display in a shop that would usually eschew anything handmade, a yarn shop just around the corner of a new city? Think about it, and (if you like) tell us about it in the comments.

Knitters in the Greens Cafe. I was too shy to approach, but I did Kinnear them. Too weird?

You can tell Mr. Trask and I spent a lot of time in cafes this first month (no furniture or internet in our house). Here's a gentleman knitting in Blackwell's. I think he was a new knitter - he seemed a bit uncomfortable with the sticks and string - but he was hanging in there.

A knitting-themed display at The Gap in Oxford, which was up much of the fall and into the holiday season. Check out the enormous needles on the right!

First sighting of Darn It & Stitch, the haberdashery and knitting shop that I'd been stalking online for several months.

A knitter's booth at the Oxford Antiques and Crafts Market (held every Thursday in Gloucester Green). I like the sly smile she's giving me here.

And here’s one more thing that, while unrelated to knitting, made Mr. Trask and me both feel we were in the right place:

Two Pink Lines.

Here I am (a little blurry) on my birthday last year. Little did I know what was coming...but, hey, I had that nice pink mocktail to get me through (lower right).

Yes, folks, today is my birthday. I am (mumble) years old. It’s been a good year, with a lot of changes and a lot of knitting…and a lot of you people. I think it was around this time last year that I started giving away yarn like there was no tomorrow, and all kinds of folks came out of the woodwork to give my stash a good home.

Aside: my mother used to call me on my birthday, not just to wish me a happy day, but also to remind me of the story of my birth. Some years, she’d call more than once, giving me a sort of blow-by-blow of the day (“This time 25 years ago, I was still at the garage sale, and my water broke!”). At the time, it was one more sign of her quirkiness. Today, preparing for my own kid’s birthday, I say: Thanks for all the hard work, Mom.

So to thank all of you for the love, support, and stash-busting over the past year, I give you: some more yarn.

Handspun yarn from Cardiff, Wales: one lucky commenter will get to make an amazing hat/pair of mitts/something from this.

I bought this yarn at a little yarn shop in Cardiff a couple of years ago. Here is what the tags say:

• PINK: Ragged Robyn. Merino, Linen, Blue Faced Leicester. 188 yards.
• BLUE: Ragged Robyn. Merino. Thread Ply. 202 yards.

What I know is that it’s handspun from a woman who lives in Cardiff, or used to live in Cardiff. A little Google-stalking came up with nothing definitive about the mysterious Robyn, but I can tell you that this yarn is gorgeous and soft. If it were me, I’d make a pair of mis-matched (fraternal twin) hand mitts. But whoever wins can make whatever they like with it!

The yarn has lived in a plastic, airtight container in our one-cat, non-smoking home since purchase (plastic container was shipped abroad when we moved). Details on all stash giveaways here. Deadline is Wednesday, April 11, at noon GMT+1.

Happy Birthday to me, thank you to all of you, and happy commenting! Tell me about how you celebrate your birthday, or the most unusual handspun you’ve found in a yarn shop.

The Color Affection Shawl by Veera Välimäki. I'm itching to start this one! Photo © and courtesy Veera.

Funnily enough, it seems a lot of people are suddenly knitting, or planning to knit, shawls and scarves. Is this because it’s almost spring, but not quite? Here in Oxford, we had one gorgeous week of temperatures in the 60s (F), which I missed due to the worst chest cold of all time, and now it’s back to high 40s, low 50s. (My weather app is telling me that it might snow in London on Wednesday, but I’ve noticed a lot of false snow predictions on this app that disappear within a few hours. Is there some kind of snow default for London that disappears when a meteorologist enters actual information?) In the DC area, there was a similar fake summer, although theirs had highs in the 70s and they’re still in the 60s or so. A shawl might seem like the right option for versatile dressing: snuggly when you need it, easy to knot around your waist or shove in your bag when you don’t.

Or maybe I want to make this one: The Trifecta Scarf by Olga Buraya-Kefelian, whom I knew long ago in Knit Happens days. Photo © and courtesy Olga.

At any rate, I had shawls popping up at me all over the Internet recently:

• Laura Nelkin designed a shawl to use while teaching the Craftsy class Knitting with Beads. Accola is a bottom-up shawl in which one works the border over a small number of stitches before picking up for the main body of the shawl. It has lace accents and a lot of stockinette stitch to give you a rest, and (as the class name implies) beads. Laura, Jill Draper, and Craftsy have teamed up to offer giveaway: a class and yarn for the shawl if you comment on her blog post by tomorrow (April 3).
• Spud & Chloe is hosting a knit-along for their Trifecta Scarf, a lovely lace pattern in three different stripes. The knit along begins on Monday, April 16, and I am sorely tempted. As if I need to commit myself to another pattern, people. S&C knit-alongs are always popular, with knitters jumping in and posting about problems, solutions, and modifications like gangbusters. This one should be a great time.
• Classic Elite Yarns featured the story of a knitter who made an incredible lace shawl for her wedding. This is such a gorgeous item – even if you aren’t a lace knitter, click over to see the beauty that is this shawl. Plus, it’s orange!
• The yarnings podcast is having a knit-along, too, this one for the super-cool Urbanity Shawl. This shawl has a drop-stitch pattern that mimics the skyline of a city – very cool. The knit-along ends April 30, so get your pattern and join in today.

In keeping with the neck-warmer theme, I will tell you of the tiniest knit-along in the world, which Catherine (whom I met at the P3 Retreat last fall) and I sort of started a couple of weeks ago. It started, as such things often do, with enthusiasm. Kay of Mason-Dixon Knitting posted a note about a beautiful, funky cowl pattern by earthchick.

Catherine and I were excited, and talked briefly about a knit-along. But (as Catherine’s first post on the cowl points out) a knit along of two is a small knit along indeed. Nevertheless, we are pushing on, in a manner of speaking. Catherine has done a lovely job, knitting and posting her progress. Do look at her post for some lovely photos of the cowl in progress.

Until last night, here is how far I had gotten:

Hey, yarn selection is half the battle. Right? Right?

Meanwhile, Catherine has moved on to an amazing sewing project for the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. I can only plead start-itis, plus having to weave in all the ends of my Moderne Baby Blanket (on which more later). By last night, though, I was at a point where I could cast on something new. I also had the Sunday night blues, and using the Sundara Fingering Silky Merino I chose seemed like it might be cheering. Plus, I really, really had to get started on the cowl.

Aside: I am using a thicker yarn than is called for in the pattern. You people know that I’m still in stash-reduction mode (although I’m sure Mr. Trask would dispute this given the packages that have arrived at the house from time to time) and the only fingering-weight yarn I have is slated for another project. I got gauge in this yarn and, although I expect the drape will be somewhat different due to the different yarn weight, I think all will be well. So far, all is delightful: the yarn is lovely and the pattern is easy to remember, even for me.

Liquid Antilles Cowl: Tiniest Progress Ever.

I worked on this while watching The Impostors, one of my favorite movies ever, and Sunday seemed a lot more manageable after that.

Are you knitting neckwarmers of any kind? Do you have an explanation for this trend? How about a neckwarmer pattern you think everyone should knit? Post any or all of that in the comments.

Want to really understand your knitting? This is the book you're looking for.

This is the first of an occasional series of book reviews aimed especially at the beginning knitter.

You all may remember that I’ve been thinking a lot about how to introduce people to the world of knitting. I’ve done this for years as a knitting teacher, but haven’t really slowed down to think about what I say and why, until now. So now you all are hostages to my musings, unless you want to scroll down and check out a baby sweater.

As someone who learned to knit long before it was a craze, I’m eminently sympathetic to those who like to learn on their own, perhaps through the Internet and books. It’s all right to be an introvert knitter, I say. It’s not that I don’t enjoy other knitters, because I really do – but there are times when I need a little space, and I often like to figure out a new technique on my own rather than in a group.

All of which leads me to Stephanie Pearl-McPhee’s book Knitting Rules! Like her blog Yarn Harlot, it offers sympathy and inspiration for the obsessed knitter. Hers was among the first knitting blogs, and her combination of honesty and humor has made her one of the most famous knitters around.

But that’s not why I’m suggesting this particular book. Here’s why: if you’re a beginning or intermediate knitter, it’s all to easy to get attached to patterns and not necessarily feel brave enough to improvise a pattern. Knitting Rules! includes “recipes” to knit hats, shawls, and even socks in any gauge and for any size. It’s hard to come by this kind of information in an understandable format when you’re a beginning knitter – and I think it’s essential.

Wisconsin Winter Socks: The unassuming booklet that changed my life.

There are several stories about how I learned to knit (and I’m planning to share them with you guys someday). This is because I knew I liked knitting, but somehow it didn’t stick for a while. The point when it finally did wasn’t when I found the perfect pattern; it was when someone gave me a book that told me it was all right to change a pattern to please myself. The first time this happened, weirdly, was with a tiny booklet called Wisconsin Winter Socks. The sock pattern in the book is easy to follow, and it’s illustrated with cute little sketches, which I always enjoy. But the best part of the booklet is the part where the author encourages you to customize your socks with stripes or other patterns. Between that and stitch patterns I found in other books,  I was able to make all kinds of purty socks – mostly because the Winter Socks authors had given me “permission” to play around with knitting.

Knitting classes are usually centered around a pattern, and it’s understandable why they are. The teacher needs to be able to plan different phases of the class and prepare for questions that will come up. Meanwhile, students need to know what they’re going to get out of the class, and a pattern both manages those expectations and helps them be fulfilled. But when I work with intermediate students one-on-one, I like to talk them through designing something simple on their own. Like any other craft, knitting is creative, and knitters deserve to be able to design what they want to make rather than be limited to other knitters’ imaginations.

But I digress. What Stephanie Pearl-McPhee does in this particular book is introduce the idea of designing in such a way that it won’t intimidate beginning knitters. The “recipes” are interspersed with her usual stories about unmanageable yarn stashes, disastrous knitting projects, and explaining knitting to the non-knitter. She also gives tips on knitting that will be helpful to the new knitter: explanations of how gauge works, what different kinds of yarn look and feel like, and (my personal favorite) how to figure out what a mystery yarn is made of. Most of the information in here won’t be new to advanced knitters, but it will be invaluable to the new knitter.

So, if you’re thinking of spending the weekend teaching yourself to knit, scare up a copy of this readable classic and dive on in.

The Tulips Cardigan: Well, yes, I do still have to weave in the ends.

For those of you who have been waiting for the baby sweater: here it is. Made from a pattern that Pearl-McPhee made famous several years ago, this Tulips Cardigan was fun to make and is even more fun to show off. I’ve made several of these for friends over the years, and I’m so cheesily happy to have made one for our little sprog. [Although I haven't yet woven in the ends...oh dear.]

So: What books would you recommend to a beginning knitter? Which ones helped you when you were a beginner?

A Very Good Sport: Mallory learning to knit a hat, using DPNs, even. I didn't tell her they were hard.

You all know I love to spread the gospel of the sticks and the string. When I left the U.S., one of the most difficult goodbyes was to my knitting students and to the discretionary time that allowed me to teach knitting. [I might be able to do it in the UK in a little while, but for now I just don't have the space in my calendar or my head.]

But I had underestimated the addictive quality of teaching people to knit, especially beginners. I love watching people go from non-knitters to knitters. It’s especially fun to teach hats, because they can be completed relatively quickly, and there’s nothing more exciting to a new knitter than a completed project. And poor Mallory walked right into this gaping maw of knitting teacher need about a month ago. She’d knit a scarf before, but that got repetitive and boring.

Aside: I do wish we could come up with a better first project than a scarf. Maybe a kerchief (head or neck) or a seamed cowl would work. I know exactly why we have people knit scarves – lots of practice, big long rectangle – but I have had so many people come into my classes who learned to knit long before, got bored with their scarves, and almost never came back. I myself learned to knit a few little squares, and then socks. But that’s another story for another time.

First hat! Check out the excitement on her face.

Anyway, the sentence “I might like to knit sometime” was barely out of Mallory’s mouth before I was racing upstairs to grab yarn and knitting needles before she changed her mind, Mr. Trask cheering me on as he saw another opportunity for me to give away yarn.

[Let me just say that Mr. Trask really took one for the team here. We were having a Justified marathon, not a very girlie endeavor, and then suddenly he was watching TV with not one but two knitters...girl knitters, in fact, who kept muttering to each other about "bring the yarn to the front between the needles" and "don't worry, you'll only be knitting on two of these DPNs at once." Mr. Trask is a very patient man.]

We started with a simple ribbed hat made of leftover pink yarn from my Tea Leaves Sweater (which, by the way, turned out just fine, and I really should post a photo or two). Then Mallory had the nifty idea to make a wavy hat, shifting the ridges of the ribbing every row or so, and we found some delightful green yarn in my stash. Then I lured her back to scarves with the Irish Hiking Scarf, a simple cabled number, and now she is working on a top-down sweater by Stefanie Japel. We made her first foray into yarn shop joy a couple of weeks ago, dropping in to Port Meadow Designs for some gorgeous Mirasol yarn for her sweater.

Mallory's second hat - with a pattern she improvised herself.

I’m luring her even further into the knitting abyss by convincing her to make an Albers Cowl while working on the sweater (you know how nice it is to have a mindless project as well). Soon, she will have two projects on the needles at once! A rite of passage indeed.

Anyway, I thought now might be a good time to post some links that I usually give out in my beginning classes. And I got all excited about the internet and found some other items as well. Here’s what I came up with. What would you add to the list?

One last thing: I know you all are wondering what happened to the pink yarn left over after Mallory made her first hat. Right? Right? The answer is that it became my first baby project. I know, I know, I said the first project would be out of the Alisha Goes Around, but you all gave me so many choices for that yarn that I still haven’t decided. Also, this yarn was pink. And we’re having a girl. So the last bits of this yarn seemed destined to go to her.

In the comments yesterday, my father suggested I show the results off to you guys. So here are a tiny hat and socks:

A little hat and little socks, for the little girl who will come in July.

And here are some links to help the beginning, and not-so-beginning, knitter.

The Basics

• Ravelry. A knitting and crochet community with all kinds of information on yarns and patterns, plus forums in which many helpful knitters will talk to you about a variety of subjects (some even having to do with knitting).
• Knitting Help. Videos of any stitch you might be able to think of, and other techniques as well.
• Craftsy. Knitting classes online.
• Knitty. Free patterns, articles, general fun.
• Encouragement. A video of a guy teaching himself to knit. Spoiler alert: it does not go well.

Answers to Your Beginning (and not-so-beginning) Questions:

• How Much Yarn for a Long-Tail Cast-On? Cat Bordhi shows us.
• How Can I Find the Right Yarn for this Project? Clara Parkes offers tips.
• Why Do I Have to Knit a Gauge Swatch? Jenna Wilson settles this once and for all.

Charity Knitting

• Teen Granny has organized Knit Relief, an eBay auction of hand-knit items to support Sport Relief.
• An appeal for hats for newborns, via Doctors Without Borders. Not feeling creative? The post includes two hat patterns.
• A pattern from The Guardian to make blankets for rescue dogs (and information on where to send them).

Books

• Clara Parkes Reviews Knitting With Two Colors by knitting legend Meg Swanson and Amy Detjen. Note to Mr. Trask: post includes links for where to buy online.
• Lara Neel of Math4Knitters is posting an index of sorts to the new book Principles of Knitting on Twitter, using the hashtag #PoKLove . Check it out!

And, finally, Randomness:

• An Infestation of Gnomes at Mochimochiland.
• A Man Wearing a (fake) Fox Head, Cross-Stitching.
• Omar Little Is Most Electable of “The Wire” Characters.
• IKEA Instructions for Stonehenge.

Casting on. Notice how nicely the yarn's colors blend - and they're not TOO Christmassy, even though they're a December colorway.

Yes, people. MacGyver Knitting. You’ve been there. You need a stitch marker, and make do with an earring. You’ve lost all your stitch holders, so you use a chopstick and some rubber bands. You have almost enough yarn, but not quite, but you have a slightly different colorway, and you make the new color look like a design element. What I’m talking about kind of the reverse of Brenda Dayne’s Knitting Scouts MacGyver Badge, which requires a non-knitting use of knitting materials (see, for example, my long-ago wildflower stake). MacGyver Knitting gives a unique sense of satisfaction, the pleasing (if possibly erroneous) idea that you could find a way to get knitting supplies even if trapped on a desert island or huddled in a bomb shelter. And I did it recently with some socks.

I was knitting socks for a sick friend who seemed to deserve the luxury of hand-knit socks. I was inspired partly by the last colorway of the 2011 Rockin’ Sock Club. It was called “Comfort and Joy,” which is what I wish for her, and the colors were quite pretty indeed. I cast on in January, on my way to the U.S. for a visit.

I made a lot of progress one weekend while on a woodsy-birdsy women’s retreat in Virginia. All blissed out from said retreat, I stuffed the socks-in-progress into my purse, carried it around for a day or so, and then discovered that I’d broken two of my DPNs. Not a shock, since one shouldn’t put thin DPNs into an active purse without some kind of protection. This breakage was on me. This breakage was also foreshadowing, but of course I didn’t know that yet. Still serene, I popped off to fibre space, bought a nice long Knitter’s Pride Symfonie Dreamz needle, and started magic looping.

Airplane photo...fuzzy. The yarn is Socks That Rock Rockin' Sock Club for December 2011.

Aside: Dreamz needles are pretty nice. The cables are very flexible and the tips are smooth yet strong. I wish I’d gotten myself the interchangeable set…but I was trying to keep my bags light and my credit card viable.

I got a lot of knitting done on the plane back to England, on which I also learned that airplane folks are nice to pregnant ladies. They got me three seats across so that I could stretch out with my belly and my head cold – and an enormous bottle of water, all to myself. I was on the daytime flight again, so watched several movies. I never know whether the movies I enjoy on an airplane are actually good, or whether they seem better because they are distracting me from the discomfort of a coach seat. Anyone else have this problem? At any rate, I made even more progress while watching Crazy, Stupid, Love, and thought I’d be finished in no time.

By the time I got home, sock #1 was almost done. I was plugging along, eager to finish and start sock #2, because I have been known to face second sock syndrome. And then…it happened.

• I was sitting on the couch.
• I got up to get some water from the kitchen.
• When I got back, one of my needle tips was broken.

The Great Tragedy: first few rows of second sock, with broken needle tip on left.

I can’t explain it any better than that. Did I sit on the needle? Had it broken a while back and I didn’t notice? Was the cat sabotaging my knitting again? I couldn’t even find the broken-off tip.

I stared and stared, trying to come to terms with my loss. The thing is, I’ve had trouble finding circular needles in Oxford, much less small-size circular needles. The two shops that do carry knitting needles are pretty much size-6-and-up for circulars. And when they are smaller size (I am going to sound a little spoiled here) they’re those heavy plastic circulars with really rough tips. You know the ones. I couldn’t stand to think about using one of them. Yes, I have been spoiled by the variety of needles available at home. Boo.

However it happened, the tip was broken, and it wasn’t coming back. I tore through my extensive needle collection, but while I had about eight different pairs of size 3 Addis and several teeny metal size 0s, of course there were no other size 1s, except the two DPNs left over from the purse-needle-breaking incident.

Desperate, I attempted a little repair-work, even though I knew it was a bad idea. Don’t tape a needle back together, ever. It just doesn’t work, no matter how thin the tape, and then you have to scrape all the tape back off, painstakingly, miserably, grinding your teeth and muttering to yourself. At least I resisted the glue idea. In case you are wondering why I didn’t try the obvious solution, yes, I did order a new needle online. It arrived broken as well – according to the vendor, the first time that has ever happened to her (and I believe her). Apparently the knitting gods wanted me to be creative.

Spoiler Alert: It all turned out okay in the end.

So for a little while I limped along, slipping stitches onto one of the DPNs and knitting off of it back onto the good tip of the circular needle. Tried to be brave. Only tweeted about my pain a few times. Ate a Magnum Bar. Considered getting sand paper and sort of sanding down the broken tip. Decided that was stupid, would lead to gauge issues, and also that I am not competent enough to create a tip using sandpaper.

Then I realized something that might have been obvious to a different knitter: when you’re knitting in the round, you only knit off of the left-hand needle. You don’t really need a point, except for stitches like SSK. I mean, clearly I’d been knitting with the broken tip for a little while before I realized it was broken. Why couldn’t I continue like that?

The answer is, I could. I only needed a left-hand tip for the back-and-forth rows of the heel, and at that point I used one of the remaining DPNs in conjunction with the circular needle. Victory! For the SSK decreases at gusset and toe, I just used the broken left-hand tip, because a size 1 needle is itself so skinny that a broken end of it will serve as a point in a pinch. I even re-knit the toe of sock #2 three times, to make sure the foot lengths matched (like I said, I’m not great at those second socks).

The socks are now on the feet of my fabulous friend, and I feel pretty darned impressed with myself. It’s the little things, people. Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same. So – when have you engaged in MacGyver Knitting? Tell me how smart you are in the comments field. Or tell me about a movie you saw on an airplane that you thought was great and now suspect might not have been – I need some backup on that.

Giveaway update: The winner of the Rowan Calmer was Jeannie, who has a great blog and a new grandchild. Stay tuned for another giveaway later this month.

Without further ado, I give you…Some News.

Due July 6. Crazy, right?

• Me: Can I refer to our progeny as “Future Knitter” on my blog?
• Mr. Trask: Um…no.

But you guys and I know that this kid is going to grow up swathed in knitted items, anyway. So it’s got that going for it. Anyway, the secret is out!

Mr. Trask and I are very excited. I spent much of the fall being ill all over Oxford (Mr. Trask will, upon request, arrange a tour of all the buildings outside of which I have been sick), but now the nausea is almost gone and the second trimester hunger is setting in.

In no particular order, answers to some Frequently Asked Questions:

• Yes, the baby will be born in England.
• No, that does not mean it will be a British citizen (sad). That whole “you’re born here, you’re ours” thing is a US thing, it seems.
• Instead, we will take the baby to the US embassy early in its young life, and apply for its very first passport as proof of American citizenship.
• The NHS has been great for us so far. Somewhat different from US health care, but great.
• No, we don’t yet know the gender.
• No, I haven’t started knitting for the baby yet (more on that in a moment). BUT my fabulous mother-in-law is making a gorgeous feather-and-fan baby blanket. She’s made one for every one of her grandchildren. Isn’t that cool?!?

I went back to the US last month to see family and friends, and bought maternity clothes there into the bargain. [It turns out that Oxford has no maternity shops, at least not near us. So odd.] I will now be a fashionable pregnant knitter, instead of a knitter with her jeans held together by a rubber band, which is what I was in December. I didn’t get many sweaters, because of course my plan is to knit a few – so I will welcome your suggestions about maternity-friendly patterns. In the meantime, and without further ado, Pregnancy Sweater #1 – based on the modifications to the Polly Pullover that Susan B. Anderson offered as part of a knitalong in the fall.

First a little history. Last spring, as I was buried in work and the giveaways were ramping up, fabulous friend Lynn sent me…some yarn. With a loving but strict note that I was to use said yarn to make something for myself. And that I was not allowed to give this yarn away.

Debbie Bliss Cashmerino Superchunky: For a Cozy, Quick Knit

Longtime readers of this blog may feel that the colorway of this yarn seems familiar. That’s right – it’s the same color as the Debbie Bliss Cashmerino Aran that I bought for myself several years ago…the cursed yarn, that was several sweaters and then went into the garbage. [I have never before or since thrown yarn away...but I have never looked back after throwing away that stuff.] I laughed out loud when I saw the color come back to me through Lynn; I am pretty sure that I was there when she bought the Cashmerino Superchunky. But, because she told me to keep the yarn, I kept it, and tried to figure out what it would be.

Much like the cursed yarn, this stuff went through several incarnations before settling. First, I tried to make a simple throw. Didn’t have enough yardage for Jared Flood’s Umaro, and for no clear reason I was unable to follow the extremely simple instructions for the Lacy Chunky Throw without adding stitches. Then I tried to use it as the basis for a lace bag during the Teva Durham Lace Improvisation class in September. Too fiddly, plus I couldn’t imagine lining the thing, plus I couldn’t imagine carrying it. At this point, I was sure the yarn was conspiring against me, but I brought it to England anyway (and those of you who know, know that this was a big deal).

By Christmas, though, I knew that I needed a cozy sweater, and I needed it now. The holidays in Oxford are really lovely, with cold weather and warm drinks and lights downtown and caroling concerts. But they are also cold and damp, and by the middle of December the sun is rising at 8 a.m. and setting at 4 p.m. That’s about 8 hours of light. Plus, you will recall that I was being sick all over town. I got a little depressed, people. And that was when I realized it was time to make the sweater:

Gertie keeps an eye on the yarn while I knit.

I’d put the Polly knitalong on my Things to Do list a while back, and I knew that it would produce a sweater within a few days. Between Christmas and the New Year, I made this fabulous cardigan (although it took me a few more weeks to weave in the ends):

My Polly Cardigan - and the growing bump.

You’ll notice that there are no buttons on the thing. I bought the cutest buttons at fibre space while I was home, and now I can’t find them. This is why I shouldn’t tidy up! I always shove something important, like all of my tapestry needles, into an odd place, like the inbox where we keep unpaid bills, and then it takes me two months to recover whatever it was. Bah!

This was a quick knit, and a fun one. Susan did a great job of offering lots of modifications in her blog posts, and the Ravelry knitalong group offered their expertise, as well. It cheered me right up to have finished something, and to have a pretty and thick sweater to wear. Once I find those buttons, it’s going to be perfect.

Giveaway! If you’ve  made it this far, you deserve some yarn. This time, it’s Rowan Calmer on the block, in a beautiful chocolate brown that the photos don’t really capture.

Rowan Calmer: For Early Spring Knitting.

This soft yet springy yarn is a blend of cotton and polyester, one of Amy Singer‘s favorite yarns. [If you haven't yet signed the Save Calmer petition, pop on over and do that now!] You can’t do better than this yarn for lovely spring hats and scarves.

So, here’s something. The winner of the last giveaway was Syd. Now, Syd did something lovely and yet something no one else is allowed to do. She donated the Alisha Goes Around yarn right back to me, as a thank-you for previous giveaways. She sent me a beautiful note suggesting this, and after a lot of thought I have decided to accept, because it’s such a nice thought. Now, people, none of the rest of you may do this. The rest of you must take your yarn, and like it. I will consider Syd’s thank-you to be from the rest of you, because if you all keep doing this then I’ll still have the same amount of yarn (as Mr. Trask wisely pointed out to me. Thank you Mr. Trask).

That said, I’ll use the skein from Syd to make my first baby something. So – what shall we make, people? Recommend a baby pattern in the comments, or tell me the best yarn gift you ever received, or…tell me where my buttons are. Or my tapestry needles. Or the remote. Whatever you say, comment by Wednesday, Feb. 15, at 12 p.m. GMT, and you’ll be entered to win the Rowan Calmer.

Next time: How I knit a sock and a half using a circular needle with a broken tip. MacGyver Knitting!