Just a little yarn.

See? Harmless merino/tencel. Perfectly, utterly harmless.
And it turns into yarn. Which, you know,
you can knit with. Right?

I spoke to a non-knitter about knitting this past week, while I was upstairs at the neighbor's house drinking, chatting, and trying to forget that my laptop is utterly fried thanks to a glass of liquid and a dancing child. I also mentioned spinning, of course. You see, this "someone" is a trendspotter for the home department of a very large media conglomerate here in Québec, and she was shocked to hear that knitting is hot. That young women do it. That it is no longer just in the realm of the grandmamas who either spun for a paycheck or knit to alternately keep warm and embarrass the hell out of their grandchildren. (Come on, you know you've worn a reindeer sweater. Admit it. You got one, you put it on every time she came to visit, and you pasted a big smile on your face to boot. Had to. She's your grandmama. 'Nuff said.)

Anyway, I'm going to pull together a bit of information on how this "leisure activity" has caught fire, and why she should follow the smoke signal. Because here in Québec, I have to say, people haven't caught a whiff of the trend yet. Everywhere else in Canada, knitting shops with attached cafés and Stitch 'N' Bitch groups are springing up, but here, it's taking a long while to catch on in such a big way.

The above blatant take-it-off-and-show-us-the-goods photo, or what you, too, can do with a glorious hunk of roving, is part of my effort to show that it isn't just the grandmamas here. I'm doing it too. And I'm only kind of old, as my daughter would say.

And I do so knit. See?
This is what we call blind optimism.
Spin as you go, knit what you got.

There's something I haven't blogged about, but I should have, except that I was feeling a bit shy about it. The French version of the Canadian magazine Châtelaine had an article last month on knitting, and sponsored a contest. They also listed a bunch of knitting resources in Montréal, and my blog was the only anglophone blog on their list. I have no idea how I got there or why they contacted me to put me there, but I was thrilled to be a part of the effort to get people knitting. I very quietly put a link on the sidebar, but then a reader e-mailed me and said, hey, did you know you were in Châtelaine? so clearly the link was a little too quiet....

I have also found a possible source for alpaca roving in my very own town, and I'll report as soon as I have something to report. Suffice it to say that the source told me he sells to over a thousand spinners in Ontario, but can count the number of Québec spinners he sells to on one hand. I told him, Sir, if I have anything to do with it, you will have to use at least one more hand to count. And then, if that wasn't glorious enough, I found a shop called Paisley Fabrics (no website, to my knowledge, but they are located on 7489, St. Hubert), which sells Fleece Artist and ArtYarns. Oh. My. Aching. Visa. AND Ginette Verdone, the propriétaire, had the Fleece Artist catalogue, AND she did not think it at all insane of me to ask if she wouldn't mind ordering me some merino roving in Ruby Red. I wonder if she might consider selling spindles...hey, she sells banana silk yarn, so weirder things could happen, you know? The fibre life here may not have totally caught fire yet, but it does keep getting better.

In other knitting news (I do so knit), I'm designing the Elven Love Note. You would think that designing a scarf would be simple. There are certain measurements that insure the antidote to the dorky, too short or too thin for a guy kind of scarf. So you work within those measurements, kind of like the available grid for whatever you plan to place within it. A puzzle, of sorts. Heh. You have one cubit, so use it well. Well. Wellllll...heu...as Noah said in that infamous Bill Cosby routine, Riiiiiiiiight. What's a cubit?

It is not as easy as it looks. You don't want to create a strangulation device, and you don't want to create something that really should have been the kid's blanket instead. And you want it to be stunning and you want it to say I love you in the best way you know how. In my case, this would be translating my husband's name and the fact that I love him beyond belief into Elvish runes (excuse me, but why do I have to be the dark woods at the edge of the field while he gets to be God-Man? Hellooooo, Mr. Tolkien? Dude, you wrote to your mother with that pen?)

A surefire sign I'm a bit nervous about accidentally making a blanket:
This is what we call the start of a swatch.
Yes, that's handspun llama. Yes, I said "swatch." Shut up.

This exercise in patience and devotion soon-to-be-excellent scarf-cum-love-note will be done on US size 2 needles. When I'm done with that, I'll be knitting myself a straightjacket. Because I have a shipment of silky white llama coming soon, and it ought to do just fine for that, don't you think?

That shipment also includes a bunch of black llama. And a bunch of black walnut llama. I stopped short of actually asking for the animal, the llama-feed, and the shit shovel....

I admit it. I have only a small amount of black llama right now. So we are fighting over who gets the finished product from it. Therefore, in the interest of continued marital bliss, I thought it only right to find every llama farm I could contact in Canada and the U.S., ask them for more black roving, and see what I got.

What? You don't think that's perfect example of creative thinking in a tough situation? Just you wait till you touch the llama, honey. You'll thank me for this inventive alternative to couples therapy. Don't worry, I'll be posting llama farm addresses as I get them. I do like to share the love, you know.

Next post, bunnycrack. It's here, it's gorgeous, and I'll be using my new wheel to spin it, as soon as I get said new wheel. Oh, oops...I kind of forgot to say...I'm, uh, getting a Hitchhiker. I decided that I can't bear to let the one I'm currently using go to her next unsuspecting victim of that cute little foot-shaped pedal happy recipient, but she isn't mine to keep. So now I don't really have to let her go completely, because I will have my very own. Dave Paul makes them, and he is a living, breathing Wheels-In-Review, this guy.

And I really need to, uh, keep up the spinning production here. You see, I can't find the furniture anymore, and for once, it isn't on account of the unfolded laundry.

I left that in the dryer. What, you think I got all efficient all of a sudden?

On the other side of this house full of wool, there's a handsome prince who really needs a scarf, like, yesterday. Wish me luck.

November 11, 2005 12:16 AM  | Permalink  | Comments (38)  | Print