Hi, my name is Mingus, and I have a few little problems I’d like to tell you about.
You already know about my penchant for eating plastic of all varieties. My peculiar tastes extend to tissue paper, as illustrated here, and also to small bits of metal, computer wires, basket handles, and the cotton ends of Q-tips. But that’s not why I’m writing here today. I’ve been given space on Sarah’s blog because I’ve reached an astonishing new low in the depths of depravity I’ll sink to for a chemical fix. Last night, you see, I actually licked the varnish off the knobs of Sarah’s size 10 Crystal Palace bamboo needles. Genius, you’re thinking! Mingus’s dirty little secret will never be discovered, especially since he didn’t even pull the knitting out of the bag! But you’re wrong. Sarah, being a woodworker’s daughter, noticed immediately that the needle knobs were no longer as smooth as the underside of one of her father’s tables. They felt distinctly rougher than they had the day before. And when she looked closely, she saw tiny tooth holes in the knob and in the adjacent shaft of each needle that confirmed her hypothesis. There’s only one person in this household with teeth pointy enough to have made those holes, and only one person with a tongue sandpapery enough to have completely removed the varnish. And so, my friends, I was caught. Not that I feel the slightest compunction for my misdeeds. I am, after all, a cat.

Here’s the little gansey swatch I knit up last night to check gauge:

The textural tree element I worked here will be repeated three times across the chest as part of a larger design. It’s a little more subtle than I was imagining, but it’s growing on me – it will be an understated sort of sweater.

Here’s another view of the swatch on its fieldtrip today:

On the runway is Gustave, my prized Edward Gorey stuffed cat who hangs out with me at the office. Observe Gustave’s knitwear – I did not make it. He came that way as a gift from my hero, Lloyd Alexander, at Christmas. I’m still in awe that my job allows me to work with such a legend. Lloyd, in addition to being one of the greatest children’s books authors of all time, is one of my favorite people, as he is extraordinarily kind and is in possession of a corruscating wit. He also gives a mean Christmas present.

Happy birthday to my dad! Here’s what’s in the works for his birthday present, for which I’m afraid he’ll have to wait until fall, unless Friday Harbor has an unseasonable, clammy summer – a handknit gansey:

And here’s the yummy yarn I’ve selected:

It’s Jaeger Luxury Tweed, a DK weight merino and alpaca blend in colorway "Fern", a two-ply twist of soft olive green and a creamy sapwood shade. I had thought to use a more traditional gansey yarn, a worsted weight wool from Blackwater Abbey. But it seems my dad already has a decent complement of heavy pullovers, so we’re going with something lighter – a three-season sweater, if you will.

The most exciting part is that I’ll be knitting this sweater without a pattern. I’m using Priscilla Gibson-Roberts’s Knitting in the Old Way, a nifty book that explains how to work up many traditional sweater plans using any yarn and gauge you like, all based on proportions. There’s quite a bit of math involved to map out a sweater, but I’m not afraid. I’m a versatile girl. Here’s the top half of an old Hebridean gansey design that I plan to use, and the chart for knitting it:

A gansey, for those unfamiliar with the term, is a seaman’s jersey. The name seems to have originated on the Channel Islands of Guernsey (a place I long to visit) and Jersey; each island has lent its name to a particular sweater pattern, and gansey is an old slang term used to describe pullovers in general. There are ganseys aplenty gracing the foremast hands in Patrick O’Brian’s Aubrey-Maturin books, of which my father and I are very fond. Check back soon to see a swatch, Dad – I love you!

I’ve been lured and snared by the Spring/Summer issue of Vogue Knitting, with this little beauty as the bait:

It’s Norah Gaughan’s "Frost Flowers" hooded pullover, and I’m in love. It’s a twisted, guilty sort of love, because I really don’t need to start another project right now, and there’s already a new project that’s supposed to be in line before I knit anything else for myself (more on that in a couple of days). And it’s knit in Trendsetter Spiral acrylic novelty yarn, which I’d normally avoid in the same way I shun Twinkies, breast implants, and other frighteningly manmade articles. I like wool. I like cotton. I like silk. I’m a natural fiber kind of girl. And yet my Frost Flower pullover lust was so intense that I ordered the yarn. Gulp. I didn’t order it in this color, which looks blue here but is actually more seafoam green, which isn’t really my shade and which I suspect will be out of fashion again in another season or two. I picked a cream/rose colorway, and I’m very curious to actually see and handle an entire ball of the yarn. If I really hate it, I can always send it back and substitute something else, right? But I decided to trust Ms. Gaughan, whom I already admired for her patterns in Interweave Knits.

Vogue Knitting is usually full of things I’d never want to knit, but this issue was remarkably irresistible. I also love this:

Although I’d be tempted to make it without the sleeves, and carry the picot edging from the neckline and hem over to the armholes, making it a sort of ’20’s-inspired cap-sleeve vest. I might also knit it in a silk blend, rather than using the Karabella Empire Silk called for. It would be cheaper, for one, and silk is just soooo drapey – a girl can have too much drape, you know. But I don’t need to knit this quite as urgently as I do the Frost Flowers, so it can just wait in the queue, thank you very much.