The way the knitting is going these days, I ought to consider changing the blog handle to Blue Ribbing. Where did all this blue wool come from, you might understandably wonder? I’ve been holding out on you, I’m afraid. So let me introduce you:

On the right, in the ice blue: a new sweater design for Shibui. I can’t give you all the details yet, but what you’re looking at here is the torso, worked in Merino Kid. The upper part and the sleeves are in Sock in the same color. Cross your fingers for me that it all comes together as neatly as it works in my head and sketchbook.

In the middle: most of the back of a pullover, also my own design, in Jo Sharp Silkroad Aran Tweed. It looks like a lot of work, but it’s been flying along beautifully. And I’ve just joined the third ball, so I’m getting much better mileage out of this stuff than I expected.

The blue blob on top: Ana hat kit from Fleece Artist and Perl Grey. It’s a sample for Knit/Purl, a sort of hat cum ‘do-rag. I’d like to draw your attention to the last line of the instructions — and I quote: “wear your bandana K or P side out / boho chic 4 ever”

I couldn’t make this stuff up, people. But let’s talk about the yarn for a moment. Fleece Artist Woolie Silk 3-Ply. 65% wool, 35% silk, DK weight. Often I find that wool/silk blends, while beautiful and lustrous, feel a little dead on the needles. It’s the silk: no liveliness. But Woolie Silk seems to have gotten the blend just right; its 3-ply construction is tightly spun, and the hand is pleasantly wooly, but you still get a wink and glimmer from the silk. The stitches leap from needle to needle like so many chamois bounding over an Alp. The knitting is fast and smooth, and I found myself tearing through the stockinet rows as quickly as I’ve ever knit in my life. I also began to drool at the thought of a whole sweater in this stuff. I can’t wait to see what colors we’ll be carrying in the store.

And no attempt to catalog the works in progress would be complete without an appearance from You Know Who:

Felis interruptus: Mingus being Mingus

That’s all for now, folks. Someone needs to pack her bags for an obscenely early flight to… Boston! For… another wedding! And I haven’t even shown you what I got at A Good Yarn the last time I was there…

I’ve found that it’s particularly easy to soften your husband towards the idea of cafes au lait, brioches, and canelets if he’s spent the early hours of the morning helping you clean the house prior to the arrival of your entire family. He hardly even blinked when I suggested that the camera might accompany us for some retakes of Brigitte. So off we all went to St. Honore, which was hopping. Finally there was a hiccup in the stream of salivating customers, so we took these:

Brigitte, née Bergere de France Pull Ouvert, for the Tour de France Knit-along

Yarn: Bergereine, 50% wool, 50% cotton, 9+ skeins créole and 2 skeins gomme; The Fiber Co. Savannah, merino, cotton, and other natural goodies, 1 skein crimson

Needles: US #4 and #6

8-29 July 2007. . . a new land-speed record for sweater knitting by yours truly.

Modifications: Translated from the French, front cross reverse engineered from the (excellent) pattern photos after the written directions went up in smoke, back shaping altered to accommodate a full collar, new yarn substituted for the originally intended “curry” to make the sweater more wearable outside hunting season.

Impressions: I’m glad I gave this intriguing pattern a shot. It wore me out and my hands were sore for a week after I finished because I logged so many hours trying to make my end-of-Tour deadline. This sweater was a lot of work and probably would have taken me months to complete without the knitalong, but it seems to be pretty wearable. The bulk of the fabric and the torque of the zig-zag pattern made for rather hefty shoulders; I almost feel as if I ought to pad them out, 1940’s style. If I sort of tug and pat them into place, they’re not too bad. As much as the torsades (cables) were a pain with the interlocking yarns, I love the way they look.

I also love the effect of the twisted rib — too bad it’s such tortuous knitting for us throwers. Mr. G’s Fishtrap Aran was also essentially a whole mess of twisted rib. It seems I’m drawn to those snug, natty stitch columns, no matter how long it takes me to work them.

Speaking of tortuous knitting, next time I’ll reveal the big wedding stole plans. I think you’ll be impressed. Heck, I’ll be awfully impressed with myself if I can pull this one off by next May.

Thanks to the most intensive four days of knitting I’ve ever logged, Brigitte was all done at 9:17 last night. That makes Mamie the winner – narrowly – over Elaine: congrats, Mamie, and thanks to everyone for playing along. I’m picking out some choice items to pop in the mail tomorrow morning. These little contests are fun, so I’ll have to dream up another before too long!

But without further ado, Brigitte:

I thought she’d feel most at home if she debuted in as French a setting as possible, and I always like the chance to consume some authentic pastries. So Mr. Garter and I whiled away an hour or two at St. Honore, boulangerie-patisserie extraordinaire. (I promise that chausson aux pommes was not as big as my head – it just looks that way in the photograph.) I made Monsieur mon mari take je ne sais pas combien des photos and then – quel horreur – some sort of “card error” ate all but two of them! This is the better of the survivors. Zut alors. I’m praying it was a random glitch, and not some kind of flash card death spasm. Won’t Mr. G be thrilled when he learns we need to do a reshoot? I’ll dangle a quiche for bait. Camera gods willing, I’ll have some better pictures in a day or two, and we’ll do the summary judgment then. (Who are the camera gods, incidentally? There’s sure to be a patron saint of photographers, at least… ah, it’s St. Veronica. I wonder if she takes burnt offerings?)
In the interval, a distraction:

Meet Signy. She’s my new Husqvarna Viking Emerald, a birthday gift from myself and from my grandmother. She and I are going to have all kinds of fun together, just as soon as I acquire a wee extension cord so I can reach her accelerator without stretching my leg halfway across the Fibordello.

And what to knit next? I’ve been so monogamous with Brigitte these three weeks that I hardly remember what else I was working on. (This is always dangerous: the siren song of new projects grows louder and more seductive in the wake of a major accomplishment, I find.) Back to the Frost Flowers, I guess. Interesting coincidence that its front construction produces a pullover that looks like a cardigan, much like Brigitte. And several friends are spawning offspring in the next month or two, so we all know that means baby sweaters. I recently stashed a little Dream in Color Smooshy Sock Yarn in the luscious In Vino Veritas (don’t think I’m missing the irony there, TdF KALfolk) colorway that I think will make a darling EZ February sweater for the coming girlbaby. Simple stockinet and quick knits for little people should be just the ticket to relax and soothe my crampy hands after the epic strain of finishing Brigitte.

This was supposed to be a week dedicated to knitting, pattern drafting and polishing, reading, writing, gardening, watching the Tour de France — plus a little light housekeeping and general relaxation. A haircut. A trip to the DMV to procure an Oregon license, since my old one expires on Sunday. (This means studying the local rules, since I have to sit for the knowledge test again. If the practice test is an accurate indicator, I’m up a creek. Is knowing how much the fine is for a DUI really going to make me more competent behind the wheel?)

In the end, hardly anything has gotten done, apart from the avid Tour watching (Vino, how could you be so stupid? Rasmussen, how am I supposed to believe you aren’t doping when you keep riding away from your rivals like there are afterburners concealed in your lycra shorts?) and the wrestling with Brigitte. Appropriately on the biggest mountain stage, I cracked. I hit the portion of the pattern where the fronts cross, and it all went to pieces. The pattern makes no sense in French or English — it can hardly have been written by the same person who knit the sample. I had to go freestyle, but not without a lot of cursing and fiddly tinking and adjusting errors six rows down and breaking yarn only to rejoin it in the same place on the next row. Were I to wear this sweater inside out, I’d have tassles enough for a Vegas showgirl.

Four stages to go, and I have yet to finish the front or begin the sleeves. And then there’s the seaming, and the weaving in of all those beastly unnecessary ends. It’s like a broken derailleur on an HC climb, and the pack is riding away up the slope while I wait for the team car. So now it’s all or nothing. I’m giving myself until midnight on Sunday to limp in as the lantern rouge, the rider with the slowest overall time. There’s not so much shame in being the lantern rouge as you might think, the way I figure it – lots of guys have to abandon entirely. What do you think, can I gut it out and finish Brigitte by the end of the 29th?

Just to make this more fun, let’s have a little game. Leave a comment and tell me what date and time you think I’ll clip off the last end – it can be after the 29th (and it might be!). The person with the closest guess will get a nice surprise out of my ever-burgeoning stash. You have until the end of the live coverage on Saturday to make your guesses – by then we’ll have had the long time trial and we’ll know who the yellow jersey is going to be in Paris. Okay, go! I’m off to count some more decreases and figure out how to work my special extended collar piece. Thanks for tuning in.