I Conquer Colorwork (Mostly)

So I finished the colorwork hat that is the basis for my Conquering Colorwork class at the Camas Creek Winter Retreat on Saturday. Here it is, freshly washed:

I am not sure how I feel about it. Why?

First of all, I was trying to create a project small enough to work on in class but big enough to be done on 16" circular needles. Brilliant me, I thought that 100 stitches would make a great base for any colorwork patterns I might find (because I hadn't yet picked one out when I cast on). Huh. Turns out that a lot of colorwork patterns are based on 6-, 12-, and 16- stitch repeats. There are 5-, 10-, and 20-stitch repeats, just not as many. I managed to find a 10-stitch repeat, but I would have been better off to cast on 96 stitches instead of 100. Live and learn. 

The second issue is that I really struggle with putting colors together. Thank goodness for Kristin Nicholas and her Julia yarn (which is what this hat is knit in), because she has done a lot of that work for us in choosing the colors for that line. I threw all the colors of Julia I had into a basket and picked out the ones I thought went together well—actually, I think ALL the colors go together well no matter which ones you pick. Part of me wishes I had done something other than dark purple and orange for the little accenting squares, but I was trying to be as fearless as Kristin. Still working on that fearless thing. 

For the students, I specify that they should stick to three colors. Maybe I should practice what I preach. 

Anyway. In theory, knitting with multiple colors is not difficult for me. I know all the tricks. I can knit two-handed. I can knit with two colors in my left hand and one in my right. However, knowing how to do it does not necessarily equate to doing it well, because last night the husband and I were sitting in the living room in our respective chairs, enjoying the peace and quiet, when at one point he said to me, "Are you going to yell at your knitting all night?" 

I guess maybe it wasn't as peaceful and quiet as I thought it was. 

Oh well. I am happy with the hat as a class sample. Even if students only get about 2" into the hat in class, they will have had a chance to work corrugated ribbing, knitting with two strands, and knitting with three strands. I think that's plenty for a three-hour class. 

The class handout for Conquering Colorwork is also done. I've got one more handout to do, which I have to do tomorrow. I am subbing for my little first graders again on Thursday and Friday, and leaving for the retreat right after class on Friday. The last handout is for these projects: 

 

both of which are based on patterns from Lynne Barr's book Reversible Knitting. That woman is a genius. Alas, there aren't many people signed up for this class (which is scheduled for Sunday morning, always a tricky time), so I may not get to teach these clever techniques. 

And now—I am without a project again. I need to rectify this situation. Debbie, I may take your suggestion and knit something designed by someone else. But I really do need to get something of my own on the needles. I think it's time to start an Aran of some sort. 

ISTJ

I was a teenager, I think, when my father brought home the Myers-Briggs test and everyone in my family took it. I scored as an ISTJ—Introverted, Sensing, Thinking, Judging. The husband is an INTJ (the only difference being Intuitive instead of Sensing), which is why we get along so well. Two peas in a pod, we are. 

The critical part of those four letters (for me, at least) is the "I." I am an introvert. When I am mentally run-down, I NEED alone time to recharge my batteries. I need it almost more than I need food or water; I've gotten to the point where I can recognize exactly when it's time for me to get away from people by the way my brain is screaming for peace and quiet. 

I'm really good at fooling people into thinking I am an extrovert, because I have learned how to be an extrovert. I can do it for short periods—say, about three days, or the length of an average knitting conference or teaching gig. After my extrovert batteries get drained, however, I just shut down mentally. Truly—my brain simply stops functioning and I have trouble concentrating or engaging in conversation. It makes it hard when I travel to teach for a knitting guild. I usually offer to stay with someone to help the guild save on expenses. Interestingly, though, the people who offer to host me are often extroverts who want to stay up talking and knitting until the wee hours of the morning, when I would rather shut myself in my room by myself and knit or read for a couple of hours. It's not because I am trying to be rude or unsociable; it's simply because my brain needs time to recharge and it can't do that if it's required to interact with another person. And extroverts—bless their hearts—recharge their batteries by interacting with other people. You see the dilemma. 

I can avoid problems if I am careful to build periods of recharging into my schedule. It's when those recharging times get postponed or disrupted or eliminated altogether that I have problems, and I begin to feel as though I am being pecked to death by ducks. I had a week like that last week, which is why there were no blog posts from me. I'm pretty sure they would have consisted mostly of rants against my fellow human beings, and who wants to read that? 

One of my knitting projects from last week bombed completely—thankfully, it was a small project and only represents a few lost hours of knitting time. The concept was sound; the execution needs some retooling. I find that I am a bit adrift at the moment, design-wise, and I am trying not to get too freaked out about it. I half-expected this to happen. It's a matter of getting my designing legs underneath me again now that I am no longer constrained by the need to design things with cables in them. Last night I cast on for a small multicolor project that will be the basis of a class I am doing next week at the Camas Creek Winter Retreat. It's interesting to be doing colorwork instead of cables. We'll see how I feel at the end of the project. I should probably confess that I spent more than a couple of minutes contemplating where I could add a small cable pattern to the project, but I talked myself out of it. Cables—as much fun as they are—do not belong on everything. 

And I still want another pair of socks, although I am leery of getting too many designs going at once. Three seems to be the magic number for me. Right now I only have one on the needles, so some time today will be devoted to planning and starting a few more—what fun!

Stick a Fork In It

The Winter newsletter is officially done. Now it needs to head off to my tech editor. Thanks to all of you for your patience. 

So, it's mid-morning and I have the rest of the day open and I am trying to decide what to tackle next. I had it narrowed down to 1) working on the website and 2) updating the Hideaway House rental information, but then the accountant called and wanted to know how I was coming with the tax prep stuff. We play this little game to see if I can get everything together before the end of January. As he says, I am "one of the organized ones." I don't know if it's organization so much as a compelling need to know where all the money is—which I guess is closely related to being organized, now that I think about it. Anyway, I could continue working on tax prep stuff, too, if I were so inclined. 

I do need to get some piano practicing in, too, now that Christmas is over and I need music for a different church season. 

I talked to Melanie this morning and we're (finally!) starting to get people signed up for the Winter Retreat. We were worried that we might have to cancel, or at least move the classes down to the store instead of having them up at Big Mountain. Since it looks like it's going to happen, I'll have to spend next week getting some class handouts ready. I'm doing four classes: Finishing Before You Start, Conquering Colorwork, All My Secrets, and the Mysterious Meandering Scarf. I think it is a good lineup of classes and I'll be teaching some new techniques. I also need to get my cross-country skis out of storage and clean them up. I'd like to do some skiing while we're up at Big Mountain, or maybe some snowshoeing. 

Well, lots to do and there is no sense in burning daylight. Maybe I'll throw a dart at my to-do list and just see where it lands. 

Winter Issue Sneak Peek (Finally!)

The light was less than optimum (understatement), and it took a few tries, but DD#2 and I got shots of the projects for the Winter issue. I herewith present:

1. A lace and cable cowl (you'll have to forgive me—I haven't yet named all of these designs). The cable is in the ribbing at top and bottom, and the lace pattern makes up the body of the cowl. The yarn is Helen Hamann Luxury Alpaca held double and knitted on size 5 needles. 

The model didn't want her face on my blog so I had to promise to pixelate it. 

2. An afghan knit from Berroco Vintage® Chunky. A few years ago when my friend Susan's daughter went off to college, I knit her an afghan. DD#1 pointed out to me that it was really only fair that I knit my OWN daughter an afghan when she left for college. So I did. She picked out the color (Dewberry) and I picked out the cable pattern. She used while she was home from college and pronounced it "very warm." It was a quick knit on size 9 needles (for me, those are baseball bats).

 

3. A sock. I'm a bit disappointed with the way the cable pattern recedes here; the yarn is Fortissima in a really subtle blue-gray marl, but apparently it's not subtle enough. I think the next pair in this pattern (because I love the cable stitch) will be in a solid color. 

4. And finally, a sweater. This sweater requires a bit of explanation. You may remember that I was working on this sweater a few weeks ago and discovered that it didn't really want to be a raglan, so I ripped it all back to the armholes and stuck it in time-out for a few days. In the meantime, I happened to be in my closet rooting around and I found this:

  

 

It's a sweater my parents brought me from a trip they took to Amsterdam (there is a whole box of pictures at my mother's house labelled "Trips Our Parents Took Without Us," because my sister and I always got left at home). Anyway, I love this sweater. I adore the color even though I can't wear it, but what I love most (and had forgotten how much I love it) is the boat-neck. Call me crazy, I like them a lot (not so crazy about the dropped sleeves, however—the cable looks untethered on them). 

It dawned on me that making the sweater-in-progress into a boat-neck style would solve a lot of issues I was having with the cable pattern and the neckline, so a boat-neck it became. I ditched the dropped sleeves and went instead for a slightly oversized set-in sleeve, one of my favorites for ease of motion when wearing. The result is this (the sweater is about 2" too big around for me, but I am the only model handy):

I am still wearing the sweater even now, because it's just so darn warm and comfy and that's a great attribute for a sweater to have here in Montana. You might recognize the cable pattern as being from Barbara Walker's Charted Knitting Designs. I put it on both the front and the back, but you could easily make this a less-challenging sweater by working the cable pattern only on the front. The yarn is Rowan's PureLife Bluefaced Leicester. I still have really mixed feelings about Rowan yarns; this is probably the last sweater I will do in any of their yarns. I really feel like they sacrifice yarn integrity for softness and that's not a compromise for which I am willing to pay money. 

I still do like the original cotton boat-neck sweater, so I may design something similar for this summer. 

You know, every so often I get bogged down in thinking I am not accomplishing anything. I've decided that when I start to feel like that, I just need to look at this blog page and remind myself just how much work went into the knitting and designing (and in some cases, re-designing) of these projects. This represents a lot of hard work over the last three months. 

Seasonal Affective Disorder for Knitting

All of the projects for the Winter issue are done! I finished the sock last night. I am well pleased with it and plan to make several pair for myself using this pattern. 

Hopefully DD#2 and I will be able to get pics taken today. This is the absolute worst time of the year to try and get models photographed. The sun (or what little sun we get through the thick layer of overcast) doesn't come up until about 9 a.m., and it starts getting dark around 4 p.m., which is just about the time my modeling assistant gets home from school. If we hurry, we might be able to get the last of the daylight this afternoon. When I get the pics taken, I'll post them here. I'll spend Thursday and Friday getting the patterns written and then the newsletter will head off to my tech editor. 

Today and tomorrow are Inventory Days at Camas Creek Yarn. I helped last year and am helping again this year. I like Inventory Day. It's very low-key and we all have a lot of fun. And I always manage to discover yarns I didn't know we carried, despite the fact that I am in the store so much. 

Lila (the dog the husband refers to as "the bad Russian orphan") has taken to running through the electric fence. She discovered a while ago that she can stand close enough to the electric fence by the chicken coop to make the collar beep a warning, but not so close that it will shock her. Unfortunately, after a couple of weeks of doing that on a daily basis, the battery in the collar runs down. I came home from church Sunday and discovered that she had headed up the road and gone cross-country skiing with someone. I came home from town yesterday and she was standing outside the fence by the chicken coop barking her head off. She must still be getting shocked when she runs across the fence because even after I took her collar off, she wouldn't walk across the fence. I had to get the leash and a different collar and lead her over the fence. 

I'm not quite sure what we're going to do. She's already wearing the "stubborn dog" version of the collar, the one that gives a pretty hefty shock. And why she will tolerate the shock to go over the fence but not tolerate it to come back is beyond me. 

And now I'm off to count skeins of yarn. 

News Flash! I Am Knitting Socks!

I needed one last project for the newsletter, and a few evenings ago (probably after a glass of wine), I decided it should be a pair of socks. Or—more precisely—one sock (because I only need one for the model shot). You see, I have a bit of a mental block when it comes to socks. I don't know where it came from. It has no rational basis in reality: I don't mind working on double-pointed needles, I am adept at short rows, I like finer gauge yarns. There is absolutely no reason why I shouldn't be churning out socks by the dozen and yet I think I've knit a grand total of five socks, and of those five, only two were a matched pair. 

I haven't asked the husband if he remembers this, but once upon a time about 24 years ago, I made him come over to my dorm room so I could measure his feet for a pair of custom-knit socks. (What can I say?—I was overcome by love and the latest issue of Threads magazine containing detailed instructions for knitting socks, beginning with accurate measurements of the intended recipient.) And I can't remember if I ever did finish those socks, although he's lobbied for handknit socks for most of our married life so perhaps I did. Bad precedent. 

Then there was the argyle sock for Level 2 of TKGA's Master Knitter program. Ugh. Sock. Colorwork. Intarsia. Seaming. I would have finished Level 2 in record time were it not for the six months I spent procrastinating because I didn't want to knit that argyle sock. But I did. And now it's tacked to the corkboard above the desk in my office as a reminder that I am an adult and if I don't want to knit argyle socks, I don't have to. 

I've even taught a sock class, for pete's sake. I understand the construction of all kinds of socks: top-to-bottom, bottom-to-top, sideways, whatever. But I've never understood the attraction of socks. I still don't, not really, but I am willing to run with this and see where it goes. I'm going to finish this sock for the newsletter and then cast on for another one. I would like to refine the fit a bit (I have very wide toes) and come up with a custom design just for myself. I might even knit the husband a pair of socks, although I know what lies at the bottom of that slippery slope and it isn't pretty. 

By the way, you won't find me using the Magic Loop or two circulars to knit my socks. I've tried both methods and I still prefer double-points. Call me old-fashioned. But to celebrate my new-found love of knitting socks, I should treat myself to a pair of these, don't you think?

DD#1 heads back to school on the train this evening. It's been fun having everyone here for Christmas but I am ready to get back to the regular routine. I'll be helping with inventory on Tuesday and Wednesday at Camas Creek. That's always a lot of fun. No doubt I will come home with sock yarn. 

Onward

I really do like beginnings more than I like endings, unless the ending happens to involve a finished knitted project (but even those are kind of bittersweet if the project has been particularly enjoyable). Beginnings are full of possibility and adventure. I like adventure. 

We tend to be very task-oriented here at Chez Schuster/Szabo: our evening debriefings usually consist of us asking each other how productive we were today. Some people might consider that mentally unhealthy but it seems to work for us. There are no penalties for non-productive days (which don't happen very often), but we do like to celebrate the extra-productive ones. 

As far as long-range planning goes, the husband is better at it than I am. I submit that's because he has far fewer details to worry about and more time to look at the big picture. I'm usually juggling so many items—between my own schedule and the kids' schedules—that a week's worth of stuff is about all I can cram onto my radar screen at one time. So he's the one who says in June, "Let's get chickens before winter," and makes it happen by November. (I'm the one who says in June, "Ohmigosh, we have people coming to visit for graduation in three days!")

I'm taking some time now, though, to do some long-range planning. Some of that has been forced upon me by these college classes, which have long-range planning (or at least planning through the end of the semester) built into them. But I'd also like to maintain the illusion that I am mistress of my destiny and am not simply being tossed about by the winds of change. Let's see if this works. 

Things I would like to accomplish in the first half of 2011 (did I mention we also like lists?):

• Get the new website under control: I am actually making progress on this one. The Pattern section is almost done—I've got almost all 100+ patterns listed for sale as digital downloads. As soon as those are finished, I will turn my attention to the Twists and Turns back issues. I won't be selling hard copy back issues from the new website (it's simply too confusing and cumbersome to sell both hard copies and digital downloads). I am also kicking around the idea of making the back issues available only as Volumes, which will cut the number of products down from 40 to 10. I still haven't come to a decision on that one. I just don't want the website to become unmanageable and unworkable (like it is now).

• Finish adding my patterns to Patternfish. 

• Create a new, separate website for Hideaway House and adjust some of the rental policies. For instance, last season we allowed one-night rentals. We got quite a few of them, but it meant a lot of extra work for me in terms of bookkeeping and cleaning. This season we're going to require three-night minimum stays. I also need to set up a Facebook page for Hideaway House and get it listed on some other vacation rental websites. 

• Finish the second semester of medical transcriptionist training: Goes without saying.

• Figure out some system that will keep me designing. The nice thing about the newsletter was the built-in deadlines. I really am motivated quite well by deadlines, and I am worried that without an artificial construct that requires me to produce patterns for sale at regular intervals that designing will get shoved down the to-do list. I've decided to subscribe to Vogue magazine (I already get Vogue Knitting). Montana is such a fashion backwater that I really feel like I need to figure out what's going to be trendy without waiting two years for it to show up in the stores (the resident fashionista  is quite excited about this decision). 

• Along those same lines, I need to make sure that I blog more regularly and post more regularly to the Big Sky Knitting Designs Facebook page. Even if it's only "Hey, I knit a cool swatch today!" I need to make that more of a priority. 

• Schedule some teaching gigs. 

• Get the new garden planted and the fruit orchard started. 

FINISH CABLES 2 ALREADY. It's half-done, I just need a chunk of time to get it finished. 

• Online classes? I may have to give up sleeping. 

• Knit some socks. Just because I want to (finally). 

There are quite a few items that aren't on this list, mostly because they have to do with other areas of my life like church and the fire department. One bright spot (it's horrible to put it that way, but it's true) is that my term as chairman of a big committee at church comes to an end in February. I've done two terms (six years) and I can't succeed myself. It means that the monthly church council meeting I've attended regularly for the past 8 years is off my schedule as of February 1. However, I offered to stay on my committee for six months to help smooth the transition, so I'll still have to attend those weekly meetings until mid-summer. 

Mostly I would like to devote as much time as I can to Big Sky Knitting Designs again. Hopefully the husband's business will continue to chug along, which will free up some of my time and energy to focus on my stuff again (see the Retropsective post from a few days ago). 

What about all of you? 

A Sad End to 2010

I received word this morning that my friend and mentor Bev Galeskas has passed away. Even if you don't know recognize Bev's name, as a knitter you will be familiar with her company Fiber Trends and the fabulous and oft-knitted felted clog pattern. 

Bev and I first became acquainted way back in 2000 or so. I had gone to Missoula with DD#2 to shop at a newly-opened yarn store there, and discovered that the owner was selling "kits" made up of yarn and photocopies of Fiber Trends patterns (one of which was Lily Chin's Reversible Cables Afghan). I called Fiber Trends and of course, Bev answered the phone. We had a short chat, and at the next Stitches, Lily came running up to me to give me a big hug and thank me for letting her and Bev know about the copyright infringement. 

The next time I saw Bev was in late summer 2008, when she came to do a trunk show at Camas Creek Yarn. We reconnected and she asked about the possibility of being a distributor for my knitting patterns. Bev is really the reason I got my butt in gear and made individual versions of all of my Twists and Turns designs. And I learned a tremendous amount about "the biz" along the way, from an expert. 

Bev stayed with us last fall after another trunk show at Camas Creek. She looked quite healthy, so I was shocked to get an e-mail from her a few weeks later, letting me know she had been diagnosed with cancer. She outlasted the initial prognosis, so I was lucky enough to be able to see her again this September, when I took DD#1 to college. Bev invited me to stop and spend the night at her house on the way back. We walked from the warehouse down to the Olive Garden and had a wonderful dinner. 

I will always remember Bev as one of the most gracious people I've ever known. She was a pioneer in the self-publishing business, and all of us indie designers owe her a great deal for forging the way for the rest of us. I will miss her a great deal. 

Retrospective

So 2010 was a Very Interesting Year. It was probably the most interesting year that the husband and I have experienced since moving to Montana 17 years ago, and we've had some doozies. 

You may remember that the economy collapsed for most of the rest of the country in the fall of 2008 (as if anyone could forget). One of the weird things about Montana is that our economy tends to lag a full year behind the rest of the country. It wasn't until the fall of 2009 that the bottom fell out here. That gave us a year to position ourselves, which we did; however, even advance preparation did not prepare us for the breadth and depth of the economic contraction we experienced.

Both of us toodled along through 2009 with steady work until about August. There were a number of general contractors who wanted to hire my husband for projects, but all of sudden building came to a standstill because the banks wouldn't lend even to people with excellent credit (including us—I had to do quite a song and dance to get our bank to renew the line of credit for the husband's business). We had homeowners ready to go ahead with projects (we're talking very high-end houses here) who couldn't get the banks to sign the paperwork. We kept our guys busy until the end of November of 2009 and then my husband went from doing concrete to doing the dishes because he had no houses to work on. 

We've experienced this kind of slowdown before, so I didn't really panic at that point. And the husband doesn't mind having a month or six weeks off in the winter when he can relax and catch up on jobs around the house. We figured things would pick up again in February as they would in a normal year. January started out with lots of visits to our lawyer as we dealt with an unemployment benefits case. In 2008 one of our employees got into a fight after work with another one of our employees. Employee #1 stabbed employee #2, who ended up in the hospital having life-saving surgery. We fired both of them. Employee #1 filed for unemployment benefits with the State of Montana. His claim was denied. He appealed. His appeal was denied. He appealed a third time and struck pay dirt with a hearing officer who believe every single lie the guy told him, even though evidence to the contrary was right there in the file. The hearing officer awarded him benefits. We appealed, but the State of Montana refused to allow us to present any additional evidence and upheld the award of benefits. (Governor Schweitzer got a long letter from me about the complete idiocy of that decision.)

February and March passed with no word of any building projects on the horizon. In hindsight, that was a good thing as it gave the husband a chance to work on the other house and get it ready to rent as a vacation rental.  At the time, though, I was wondering how we would make it through an entire year if the building industry here never recovered. Knitting wasn't much better—books weren't selling, patterns weren't selling, and my business began to suffer from neglect because I was taking as many substitute teaching jobs as I could to keep some cash coming in. 

Finally around April, things started to loosen up and a few small jobs began to trickle in. Our guys came back to work. And despite getting it listed quite late in the season, we began to get rentals at the vacation house. DD#1 graduated from high school and made preparations to head off to college. Friends came to visit. We went hiking. I puttered in the garden, even though it was a cool summer and things just didn't want to grow. It all seemed pretty normal, albeit anemic, on the economic front.

Having been in the building industry for so many years here, we've noticed trends. One is that building projects tend to get underway in the spring and summer, and there tends to be a lull in August. Then projects will pick up again for a few months as people rush to get work done before the snow flies. I was feeling mildly panicked in August, wondering if the August lull would last into the fall and then the winter as it did in 2009. I normally develop a pretty healthy sense of dread anyway come fall—I figure this is a normal instinctive Neanderthal reaction and I just go with it. For about three weeks I canned everything that stood still for more than 30 seconds. The husband must have been feeling it, too, because he built a chicken coop and we acquired 20 chickens. 

Unexpectedly, though, the floodgates opened. The husband got project after project after project, enough to keep him busy all through the winter and well into the spring when he's already got stuff on the schedule. It's certainly not back to the way it was during the height of the building craze (and craze is exactly what it was), but at least now we're not in danger of drowning. As I told our banker last January, my goal was to get us through 2010 and still be standing when we got to the other side. We are. A lot of others aren't. 

I used to think that both of us being self-employed was a huge advantage in an economic downturn, because we have the flexibility and creativity to adapt. I was not prepared for the double-whammy of 1) people no longer buying books and patterns and 2) the banks refusing to loan money for building projects. Each of saw our incomes cut in half from what we took in during 2009, and 2009 was down from 2008. I decided that one of us needed to find an additional way to make money, and it was easier for me to do that. I am working my way through the medical transcriptionist program at the local community college. There is no guarantee I'll be able to find a job, unfortunately (because nothing is sure but death and taxes), but I am trying to be optimistic about it. 

And believe it or not, it's been kind of nice to downsize. I found I could do without satellite radio, although I do miss listening to the Cleveland Browns football games. We love having chickens, and I am finally going to have the garden of my dreams this spring now that the husband has discovered his inner Mr. Greenjeans. I think we've both always been heading in the same direction anyway, but we had so many deep discussions about how to keep Schuster & Szabo Inc. afloat that we discovered our goals were more closely aligned than we thought. That's been a lot of fun. Nothing like a crisis to bring people together! 

On a knitting note, 2010 was the last publication year for Twists and Turns, which makes me kind of sad, but I am also very proud of what I have accomplished over the past 10 years. I sometimes feel like I am in the midst of a tornado trying to make sense of all the changes that have happened to the knitting industry over the past few years. I wish that Big Sky Knitting Designs, LLC hadn't suffered the kind of neglect it did this year, but life is what it is. I really felt like I wanted to pull back for a while, anyway, and re-assess. I think I will share those thoughts with you in another post—I'll talk about my goals for 2011, knitting and otherwise.  

Have a safe and happy New Year. May it be filled with knitting and all manner of good things. 

Thermostat Wars

We're having Thermostat Wars at our house, and the other side perpetrated a sneak attack recently. Game on. 

I get used to a certain level of constant cold during the winter, so I admit that I haven't been taking DD#2's complaints seriously for the past couple of days that she was cold, her room was cold, the hot water was cold, etc., etc. I tend to wear sweaters around the house and the girls tend to try to dress as though it is July, not December. If you come to me wearing a tank top and tell me you are cold, I will probably be less sympathetic than if you come to me wearing an Aran and tell me you are cold. 

However, this morning I sat down for a practice session at the piano, and I could not get my fingers TO MOVE. It finally occurred to me to check the thermostat. We have one of those wonderful programmable thermostats and last time I checked, it was set to turn the heat up to 65 during the day and down to 60 at night. Not the tropics, certainly, but I can live with it. 

Guess what? Someone decided that because no one was here on Sunday, he would turn the thermostat DOWN to 60 degrees instead of wasting propane to heat a house no one was in. Unfortunately, instead of turning it down temporarily (which is possible with the programmable thermostat), he just turned it down permanently (because he went and looked at the propane tank and decided we need to conserve propane). We've been at 60 degrees for the past 48 hours. And why should he care? He's not here during the day, attempting to type and knit and play the piano with frozen appendages.

[As for saving propane/money, it is my considered opinion that it actually costs MORE to heat up a house that is cold than it does to keep a house at a reasonable temperature all the time, but I have no good way of proving that right now.]

I'm kind of irritated (can you tell?), so this is what I did to the thermostat:

We shall see what happens. For now, at least I can move my fingers. 

Two Sleeves Forward, One Step Back

I've been furiously trying to get the last project done for the Winter issue of the newsletter so I can get it printed and mailed off (as it is, it's going to arrive in 2011, not 2010), but last night I realized that the sweater was going to have to take a trip to the frog pond. I had envisioned it as a raglan pullover. I don't know why—raglans are my least favorite garment style both in terms of appearance and in terms of ease of pattern writing—but that's the direction in which I was heading. And neither the sweater nor I was happy with the way it looked. Raglans with cables can be tricky if you don't get the math exactly right, and somewhere along the line my math went way wonky. 

I ended up ripping out the entire yoke, and now I am back down to two sleeves and a body, both knit to the underarms. Plan B is to change the bodice to a modified set-in sleeve. It will work, but it's going to require another couple of nights of intensive knitting. The good news is that it should go more quickly now that I won't have a monstrous piece of fabric sitting on my lap. 

These are the parts of designing that most knitters never get to see (why would we show them off?). I usually plan well enough ahead of time to avoid an epic fail like this. But it still happens from time to time. I'd much rather have an end product that makes me happy than one that I finished just to get it done. 

Both the girls are home now for Christmas break, and I'm off to work at Camas Creek today. We all know what I'll be doing when I get home tonight . . . 

Crammed Into a Phone Booth

I think these chickens are just hilarious. Here are three of them crammed into the magic nesting box. The other two were trying to get in just before I snapped this pic. Quite a bit of arguing ensued:

 

No one else I know has chickens with this particular habit. Oh well. It makes gathering eggs very easy.

For those of you wondering what's happening with the site, well . . . here's the story. As part of my year-end review of my business, I realized that the way I have things set up is very fragmented. That wasn't on purpose—it's more a result of the way things have evolved and changed in the knitting world over the past couple of years. When I first set up my website, I was selling mostly direct-to-knitters and selling mostly hard-copy products. That involved paying a fee to the hosting company and a fee to the bank to process credit card payments. Along the way, I began having to pay additional fees for the ability to offer digital downloads and to sell through Ravelry. Oh, and the bank got greedy and began tacking all sorts of additional fees onto my merchant account (like $10 a month for me to receive a paper statement of my account activity and a yearly "membership" fee in addition to the processing fees—really?!?!?!?). More and more of my sales are happening through places like Ravelry and Patternfish and fewer directly through my website, so it no longer makes sense for me to pay for some of these features when I'm not using them as much. So I felt it was time to streamline things.

I've been quite happy with Squarespace as my blog hosting company. A few days ago I began playing around with the site to see if it would be possible to build a completely Squarespace-hosted site that also offers e-commerce and isn't just a "gallery" of my work (Squarespace doesn't have a built-in shopping cart feature). It looks like I'll be able to ditch the bank's merchant account service (yay!) and move the site totally over to Squarespace from my existing hosting company. The best part of all of this is that my hosting and e-commerce costs will drop from something like $300 a month to more like $100 a month. That's huge. And I'll still be able to accept credit cards, but it will be through PayPal now and not a separate merchant account. 

This seems like a good time to do this. I've finished my classwork for this semester, and I have a few weeks before the new semester begins. I usually spend this time getting the current year wrapped up and ready for our accountant anyway. I really didn't mean to obliterate the existing blog; while experimenting with Squarespace, I pressed the wrong button and poof!—there it went. I won't do that again. 

I'm off in a few moments to pick up DD#1 from the train station. She's getting to be quite the seasoned traveler, getting herself from school to home and back again. It will be nice to have her here for a couple of weeks.