Er. . . pattern singular, for now. But take a look at the Patterns tab above. I’ve posted the schematics for Leif’s Twisted Tree Pullover, and you can grab the PDF and start knitting for your favorite tot. If you do, I’d love to hear about your experiences so I can become a better pattern drafter. The Patterns page is set up just like a regular blog post with a comment forum and everything, so please leave notes of any errors you encounter or any roadblocks you hit in the knitting. I’m especially curious whether I guessed correctly on the yarn quantities. I’ll be knitting the 4/5 size again this fall since Asa’s about the grow out of the 2/3, but it may be a while before I get to testing the smallest and largest versions. My intent is that patterns at Blue Garter will be a communal effort, with dialog amongst all those knitting them, until they’re perfect. It doesn’t seem right to me to charge money for something that hasn’t been thoroughly tech edited, so until I draw up something super schmancy, they’ll all be gratis. I’ll also post notes about patterns I publish elsewhere so you’ll know where to get them if you like my work. I’m excited to be offering something of my own to the knitting community, so thanks in advance for your support!

LeifsTwistedTree.pdf

New version with corrections added 28 January 2010

Leif’s sweater is ready to meet the public at last! This is a raglan pullover I designed for my good friend Abbie, who has an adorable nephew called Leif to knit for. Since Leif has a fine old Viking name, I wanted to add an element to his sweater that would remind me of Norse mythology. This ancient illustration of Yggdrasil, the World Tree, put me in mind of the Twisted Tree stitch in the first Barbara Walker treasury, which opens its branches to the sky in the same manner. I threw in some panels of reverse stockinet to set off the twisted trees, sketched in rolled cuffs, hem, and neckband for an unfussy look, and the design was born. My test sample, which you see my cousin Asa modeling above, showed the need for much fuller sleeves and a slightly looser neck, which I have now written into the pattern. Asa is a well-grown three years and eight months old and is wearing the 2/3 size, so it’s also snugger on him than intended. Leif’s Twisted Tree Pullover is sized for kids aged 1-7, and can be knit with almost any DK-weight yarn. If you want to make one for a bigger kiddo, use worsted-weight yarn and larger needles and follow the directions for the largest size. Click the link below the picture to download the free PDF. If you find errors, I want to know about them right away. Leave a note in the comments here so others will know about the problem, and I’ll make corrections as quickly as I can.

Here’s Leif modeling his eponymous sweater just the way it ought to be worn – askew from playing in the snow! Thanks to Abbie for the photographs and the knitting of this one. (And if you’d like to eat this darling boy right up, you’ll have to get in line. But there are more pictures of the irresistible laddie in his Twisted Tree sweater on Abbie’s blog – go look!)

In which we interrupt our regular content to venture into sports journalism:

I experienced a new slice of Portland life last evening: attendance at a Portland Timbers FC match. It was the last home game of the season for our local minor-league footballers, and they drew a record-breaking crowd. The 15,000+ spectators (and several hundred additional fans, every bit as enthusiastic as the ticket-holders, lining the street that overlooks the park) don’t sound too impressive until you’ve been among them. Unbeknownst to most Portlanders, there are soccer-mad citizens among us who could do themselves proud in England, Italy, or Brazil. They call themselves the Timbers Army, and stadium management graciously allows them to bring in enormous flags on eight-foot poles, drums, trumpets, cowbells, inflatable dolphins, streamers, and green smoke bombs. They never sit down during the match, and neither do they shut up. For the 90 minutes of the game, plus the warm-up, half time, and a good fifteen minutes after the victory, they were in constant song, chant, and heckle. Their ditties range from the title of this post, accompanied by manic hand-clapping, to the merciless “There’s no pity in the Rose City!” for fallen opponents and the jingling of car keys and lusty chorus of “Go home, you bums, go home”, to the derisory “Helen Keller” chant (“I’m blind! I’m deaf! I wanna be a ref!”), to this downright bizarre adaptation of a popular Christmas song:

Gone away is the quiet
Over here is a riot
Just walkin’ along, singin’ our song,
Walkin’ in a Timbers wonderland.

The maestro of the whole performance is the team mascot. Timber Jim is not an overstuffed bobble-head cartoon lumberjack trotting about waving an inflatable ax, as you might expect. Timber Jim is a burly 60-year-old powerful enough to stomp around the edge of the pitch brandishing and revving an enormous chain saw over his head (Shindaiwa is one of the team’s sponsors) and to scale the 80′ tree trunk that flies the Timbers flag, but nimble enough to stick back-flips and rappel from the stadium ceiling with his saw and drum. When the team scores, Timber Jim buzzes off a 2″-thick slab of his gigantic log, which is trundled out on a wagon before each match, and presents it to the man with the golden foot. One fellow scored a hat trick earlier in the season and could barely stagger off the field with his three trophies. The Army harbors a fierce love and idolatry of Timber Jim: they wear scarves bearing his name and he has several of his own chants and songs, including a tender bellowing of “You Are My Sunshine” in memory of his teenage daughter who died in a car wreck. They are a clan, the Timbers fans, and Timber Jim is their patriarch.

Shouting and cheering in the midst of this raucous crew, I couldn’t help thinking back to my days as a student of anthropology. I read a very interesting book that came out of fieldwork among the “hooligan” soccer fans in England, but you have to get down among the sweaty, beer-drenched, exultant masses to appreciate what an outlet for camaraderie and devotion the stadium can be. It’s spoken of in baseball, particularly (in my experience) in Fenway Park, but I’ve rarely seen it sustained so electrically for so long. Soccer doesn’t offer the deliberate, structured pauses of baseball: everyone is in motion every minute of a well-played game, and a second or two of brilliant or lax play can change the tide at any point. And unlike many of the more popular American sports, it’s better viewed in person than on television with extensive commentating. There’s little need for instant replay; the ball is large and easy to see at all times; the fans can truly appreciate how hard the players are working as they sprint up and down that big field with no clock stoppages for 45 minutes. Stats don’t matter; fitness and vision and innovative connection with other players do. That’s what I like to see in all the sports I watch, so I may have to make Timbers games a regular part of my summer schedule next year. I can probably even employ my knitting skills to improve on those acrylic scarves. It shouldn’t be hard to work up an intarsia chart for NO PITY, right?

When two of your favorite people get married and enrich your family, it’s time to pull out all the stops and let the organ shake the rafters. In a knitterly expression of love, I’m pulling out the cashmere and the prettiest lace patterns I could find. The bride (and the rest of the family, including Selkie the Labrador, much to Mingus’s horror) were visiting for a long weekend, so we had the opportunity to pick out the perfect yarn and the perfect pattern. Our winner?

Maureen Egan Emlet’s Mediterranean Lace, from Meg Swansen’s A Gathering of Lace. With their usual perfect timing, the Spiders gifted me this book (and Norah Gaughan’s Knitting Nature, and a gift certificate to a local fabric boutique, the generous gals) for my birthday. Ms. Egan Emlet’s design is kind of a mantilla shape, with a large central diamond on the back and two rectangular panels of ivy lace to drape over the shoulders. The bride and I prefer a rectangular stole, so we’re going to ditch the back diamond and just have a long panel of ivy lace with that exquisite leaf edging. It’s knit on size 2 needles, so now’s my chance to acquire an Addi lace circular. Oh, and a 48″ size 0. I guess I’m going to have to special-order that at work — not a needle size most places bother to stock! It’s a big project to take on, this Mediterranean Ivy stole, but Marika is entirely worth it and I do have until next May. The ivy chart doesn’t look too complicated, as the 28-st repetition is only patterned on the right side, and it should be easy to see the leaf shapes forming. You can start placing your bets now on the time it will take me to work the border, which is picked up and knit in the round (on that 48″ size 0), and to crochet the chain edging. I think the basic ivy rectangle had better be done by January! Wish me knitting luck and well-manicured fingers — that cashmere is heavenly soft, but fragile.