Steam Fever

No, I was not abducted by aliens or trying to move myself out into a cabin in the woods, going completely off the grid. I came down sick with something that can only be described as steam fever.

I found out two weekends ago that the day we were supposed to go to Ren Faire just so happened to be the Steampunk theme weekend. I am a steampunk nerd (steampunk fiction is my favorite genre). I've had a character built up in my head for a few years at this point. I was practically quivering with excitement. Until I realized that I only had a week to come up with a costume.

So, that's what I did.

Well, what we did.

With my grandma's help, we put together a costume that, while not entirely what I had in mind, would at least serve as a nice base. I can build on it and improve as time goes on.

We made a skirt out of the fabric that was supposed to be a tunic. With the scraps, I swore, yelled, and fought my way to make a sort of faux bustle. Because everyone Victorian lady needs a butt pouf.

I also remembered that I had my crinoline from the wedding hiding in the back of the closet, and let me tell you, it made all the difference to my costume.

I took a plain, black felt mini top hat form and transformed it. And promptly decided that I would never make another hat again. Between the velvet being a pain in the ass to work with, having to dye two-thirds of my trim, and burning myself with the glue gun, I was about ready to shove the damn thing out a window.

Came out pretty awesome in the end, though. Especially because I did the entire thing with craft stash. Yep, I didn't have to buy anything for this other than a comb to keep it in my hair.

I did a bit of knitting, too, because I wanted a pair of lace gloves. The pattern that I had originally picked was just not working, so I did what I am so good at doing and improvised.

I used the lace pattern from the Fir Cone Wrap on Ravelry and went from there. Keen eyed observers will see that I was watching Pokemon while working on them. ( #TeamInstinct4Lyfe!)

I ordered a lovely lace parasol that arrived with a broken handle, but a little bit of glue fixed it right up.

I already had boots and stockings. I had a plan for my hair. John was even going to be kind enough to carry my essentials so I didn't have to worry about finding room in my costume for them. Everything was going to be perfect.

Friday rolled around at it was hot. Stupidly hot. The kind of hot that makes it hard to breathe outside. A feeling of dread hit my stomach. I checked the weather report for the next day. It was supposed to be over 100 degrees.

There was no way I was going to survive in my costume in weather like that.

So, we didn't go.

But all of that work won't be for nothing. We've decided to head up there in a few weeks instead. And I'll be wearing my costume, theme weekend be damned.

Guess that means I can get back to the important things.

Little Things

A coherent blog post with lovely flow doesn't seem to be happening today. Instead, we'll go with a handy-dandy numbering system to bang out the particulars.

1. Since finishing Celestarium, the universe seems to have imploded and rained all kinds of shit all over my friends. This is my sincere plea for it to knock it off.

2. A few weeks ago, I decided to start getting a rough idea of Christmas presents. I picked up this skein of TIG in Ewe Rock My World to make a pair of Christmas socks.

3. Yes, the pictures are crap because it was much too hot and muggy to go take pictures outside today. And also because I got sucked in to continuing my foray into the Yarn Harlot's archive. I'm up to November 2010.

4. Celestarium was a hit at the yarn tasting. And I discovered that if someone tells me that green yarn is almost never purchased in the shop, I have an immediate emotional connection to it and bring all of it home. Two skeins of Dragonfly Fibers Valkyrie in Dragon Wagon that just so happen to match my Dragonscale Shawl. Maybe a hat and mitten set to go with it?

I also picked up a few skeins of Dovestone DK, which is ridiculously pleasant British wool blend. It's destined to be a lovely and thick cabled shawl.

5. Yes, I am playing Pokemon Go (Team Instinct 4 lyfe). No, I am not ashamed. In fact, I am so enamored that I decided to pick up a crochet hook for the first time in forever and crank out this little bulbasaur.

He's got a little surprise hiding in his bulb.

I was inspired by a Tumblr post that had a bunch of Bulbasaurs with different flowers blooming on their backs. My flower, as you can see, is knit rather than crochet, but I think that just adds to his charm.

He's so friggin sweet.

6. I ended up with a whopping 258 page views on my Trekking post. That blew me away. Thank you so much, you beautiful people. You make a girl blush.

7. My grandma's neighbors were replacing all of the windows in their home. Which meant that I managed to score 31 beautiful, old wood windows that set my grubby little heart aflutter.

I can't feel my arms due to loading an unloading all of those.

8. My mom made my nails all pretty.

9. I fell in love with the Split Back Tank pattern from Knit Picks and was tickled when I discovered that it actually went all the way up to my size. I ordered the suggested yarn, Lindy Chain, in the Tumeric colorway.

10. With the yarn also came the THIRD PAIR of sock needles. Which meant I started working on my socks again.

And actually managed to finish.

Well, one of them at least.

I find it rather fitting that I finished my very first sock while reading through the archive of the traveling sock queen herself. She's rather inspired me to try and push myself outside of my comfort zone with my knitting. I mean, a year ago, I wouldn't have even imagined that I'd be willing to do projects like socks and actual garments. But now, I'm finally understanding myself better as a knitter and just what I'm able to accomplish.

I'd like to think the Harlot would be quite proud of my first sock attempt. Even if it is a little loose around the leg.

Trekking

I have a confession to make.

I was not born into my nerdom. I didn't find it by accident as a small child. I had never heard of Zelda or played Super Mario Bros. I didn't own a NES or a Genesis. My first console was the original Play Station, which I played many an hour of Spyro on. And nothing else. I've never beaten a Pokemon game. I've never gotten past the first gym.

I hadn't heard of Star Trek, never watched Star Wars, and was only vaguely familiar with some of the most well-known superheroes. I only read books I knew I would like (mostly historical fiction) and never branched out to sci-fi or popular fantasy.

All of that changed when I met John. Like many a person before me, I decided to try and make myself more appealing to him by pretending to be interested in the stuff he was. So, I picked up Legend of Zelda: Minish Cap for my Gameboy Advance. And I fell in love with it.

As John and I's relationship progressed, he introduced me to more and more awesome things. One of those things was Star Trek. He had watched The Next Generation with his father as a kid. It seemed to kickstart a life-long love of all things space and sci-fi related.

He shared that love with me and encouraged me to check out the series. So I did. And I, too, fell in love.

Nowadays, we both belong to so many fandoms and factions, I can no longer keep track. We're Trekkies, Bronies, Whovians, Sherlock lovers, Dungeons & Dragons players... The list is endless. But Star Trek has a special place in our hearts. Just today, we rediscovered a picture of us sitting together, he wearing his TNG hoodie, and me with my Star Trek t-shirt on.

We also have an unhealthy obsession with astronomy and all things NASA related. We stayed up late to listen to Curiosity land, something that John considers to be one of the best days of his life. We watch almost every launch from SpaceX, grinning madly when they make giant leaps forward in space travel.

A few years ago when I first discovered the fiber arts, I stumbled across this pattern. I became obsessed with it. Unfortunately, I didn't know how to knit! But I knew I HAD to make it. So, I set out to learn how to wield two pointy sticks and some string.

A year ago, I finally felt confident enough to start Celestarium. It was slow going. I would work on it in bursts, but then would feel my attention wandering towards something small and quick, or anything with a more intricate lace pattern.

I tried to have it done in time for our vow renewal. When that didn't happen, it got tossed to the side again. But it was always there in the back of my mind. I knew I HAD to push myself to get it done.

So I did.

Yes, after a year of incubation, my baby has finally hatched. 

And it's everything I could have dreamed of. The yarn wasn't very soft to work with, but after I washed and blocked it, it's done a complete 180. It's buttery soft now. I had to be talked out of cuddling this thing all night.

The Orion constellation is the one constellation I can find without fail every time. It's always the first thing I look for when I'm out at night. So, I decided to do it in a copper colored bead to make it stand out from the rest. It's hard to tell in photos, but in person, it's quite lovely.

You can see the color a little bit better in this photo.

It is a massive thing, though. It blocked out to a 62 inch diameter.

But let's talk about the edging. So, all the talk of Trek stuff earlier? Yeah, I ended up with the completely bloody insane brilliant idea of completely writing and charting out a Star Trek com badge lace pattern. And while it's not exactly how I pictured it, I'm still quite proud of it.

When I finally pulled it off the blocking boards and laid it out on our bed, I broke down sobbing. It was hard for me to register that "I" actually made something like this. Having no confidence in my abilities makes it hard for me to see when I do actually make beautiful things. At that moment, I had physical proof sitting in front of me.

I really don't think I can properly explain just how much of an accomplishment this is to me. Suffice to say that I am proud of myself for doing it and proud of the completed project itself, which if you know me, is a groundbreaking thing for me to say.

But now I find myself at a bit of a loss. This thing has been with me for a year, a project to work on, an old friend always waiting for me. What project do I devote myself to next? What is going to be my next knitting milestone?

Maybe this? I always did love the crazy projects...

Knit, Knit, Knit

I want to take a the time to show you the pretty new sock yarn I bought last week. And to tell you about Alex's new knitting project demands. And show off my really cute new shoes.

But I don't have time.

My white whale nears completion.

The History in my Stars

I'm faced with a conundrum.

According to Ravelry, I started my Celestarium on June 16th of last year.

As of today, I am over halfway through the last chart, which means I'm about 75% through the whole shawl. I'm on track for finishing it in the next few weeks.

Tens of thousands of stitches have been made by my hands. Hundreds of beads placed. Countless hours of my life put in to it. 

My knitting skills have improved vastly from when I started this shawl. My understanding of my particular tension is better and I no longer have problems with laddering. I know that I am a looser knitter than when I began. 

Which is why I'm debating frogging Celestarium and completely starting over.

Looking it over, you can see the vast differences between where I started and what I'm currently working on. Like the rings in a tree, each section is a snapshot of my knitting skill at that point in time. If I were to start it over, the end product would look significantly better. A more unified and consistent work. Not to mention, a better showcase of my knitting skills.

Ripping it out, though, is a year's work lost. A year of learning, mistakes, and improvements will have no physical record of ever existing. It would only be acknowledged in my knitting skills from here forward and only by me. Every item made from now on will only be possible because of what I've learned from my past projects. 

But Celestarium was the entire reason I wanted to learn how to knit. I fell in love with it when I first discovered Ravelry and had sighed wistfully over it for the longest time, never thinking I'd be able to do it. But I did learn and I did start it. Wouldn't I be better served by starting from scratch and doing right by this pattern so close to my heart?

I have to decide what kind of knitter I am.

Am I an artist striving for that perfect piece?

Or am I a storyteller who speaks through my knitting, mistakes be damned?

Am I willing to lose all of that work to have something more beautiful at the end of it all? To push myself for a better end result to do right by this pattern? To prove that I have the strength of will to acknowledge my shortcomings and do better the second time around?

Or do I let it tell a story? My story. Do I let my mistakes and growth show? Do I acknowledge to the world that this shawl is not perfect, in fact far from it, but there is a journey contained within it?

Every mistake, every inconsistent stitch, every ladder tells of someone who is still learning and striving to perfect her art. Every yard of yarn has passed through my hands as I have wandered about my little corner of the world. This shawl has been to loved ones' homes, travelled along on trips both near and far. It's been held and touched by dozens of people.

But it also tells of a knitter who did not know how to fix her mistakes when she made them. Or was too lazy to tink back to correct them. Many late night knitting sessions show themselves in sections with inconsistent stitches as I struggled to keep working.

So, who am I?

Storyteller or artist?

About a quarter of the way through chart D on my Celestarium shawl! #knitting #knit #yarn #yarnporn #yarnaddict #stars #knittersofinstagram #beads

A photo posted by Ashtan Albright (@ageeksgirl08) on Jun 18, 2015 at 12:39pm PDT

In the end, I realize that in my heart of hearts, I care more about the story.

Celestarium will never be perfect, no matter how many times I try to knit it.

And that's okay.

I am the keeper of broken and imperfect things. I am the finder of overlooked treasures waiting to shine. The perfection that some people crave has no place in my life. And my work will always reflect that.

This shawl's journey, from conception to completion, is an important piece of my history. I can show it to any other knitter and they will be able to see and understand more about me than any words could.

So onwards we will travel, towards more experiences and memories all wrapped up in wool.

Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Program

I figured between my broken needle and my empty wallet, my poor socks were doomed to the abyss known as my work in progress basket.

Silly me forgot that I have amazing friends.

Mikayla, the darling, ordered me a new needle and had it shipped right to my home. It wasn't supposed to be here until Monday, but....

We're officially back in business.

Struggles

It occurs to me that for being a knitting blogger, I'm terrible at actually getting enough knitting done to show off here. I don't really have an excuse, but maybe this glimpse into my typical day will give you some idea of how I operate.

I present to you "Yesterday."

Try to go back to sleep after John goes to work. Fail miserably.

Resign myself to staying awake, despite feeling tired enough that murder seems a sensible punishment for anyone who looks at me.

Waste three hours catching up on reading the archives of Yarn Harlot's blog while debating if I want to try and catch up on Critical Role.

Get urge to knit and start looking at patterns.

Stumble upon this and realize just how much of an amateur I am. Send to knitting friends so they, too, can also both be amazed and horrified.

Remember that I have a hank of red lace weight with enough yardage in my stash to complete that pattern, but that it was supposed to be for a different shawl. Actually, two different shawls. It is a huge hank.

Start trying to talk myself out of making the Magnum Opus up there.

Call in reinforcements to talk me down. 

Find and purchase this alternate pattern instead.

Realize that it's after noon and that I should probably appease the badgers that are apparently living in my stomach first.

Remember that I got soft pretzels at the store the other day and have a delightful lunch out of a couple. Reaffirm that yellow mustard is the only real topping for soft pretzels. 

Ultimately decide against watching Critical Role since one of my favorite twitch streamers was starting soon.

Waste an hour watching and chatting before I remember that I want to knit and have just bought a new pattern.

Start digging through the stash and decide to use the Malabrigo lace that had been purchased for a completely different pattern.

Debate over color order for a while.

Realize that I would have to go dig out needles, beads, stitch markers, and hunt down a cable.

Decide that the pattern is most assuredly not being worked on today.

Switch gears and decide to work on John's socks instead.

Waste another half hour looking at sock patterns.

Middle sister asks if I mind if she came over to play Skyrim. Tell her no, I don't mind. She pretends I told her that she can't come over at all, making me worried that I upset her. 

Decide that I really need to look into the return policy for children. I mean, Emmy was my 4th birthday present. Maybe mom still has the receipt.

Ask Emmy nicely to bring me a glorified coffee milkshake from McDonald's, because it sounds good, damnit. 

Fight with ball winder and try to wrangle John's sock yarn into submission. End up having to hand-wind over 200 yards of yarn.

Emily shows up with no drink in hand. Give her a pouty face and send her out to fetch me one. 

Decide that maybe I will keep her after all. 

Finish winding yarn and realize that I have to go find my needles. Do so, cursing a bit.

Cast on using logical inferences about the size of John's feet.

Get a couple of rounds done and look at sock funny. Realize that it looks awfully small. Reassure myself because he's got tiny ankles.

Stop and look again. Confer with knitting friends and laugh because I'm always so paranoid.

Notice that my nail polish looks pretty damn good with this yarn.

Get hit with a wave of "everybody hates me because I'm so annoying and no one ever wants to talk to me again." Post these thoughts to facebook. Get immediate reassurance that I am, in fact, not as terrible as I think. 

Say goodbye to John on skype chat because it's time for him to go to practice. Ask him before he leaves if he minds grabbing me something to eat on the way home because I had a craving.

Continue to reluctantly knit on the socks, afraid to get too far with them in case they don't fit, until twitch streamer ends.

Sit socks aside and proceed to make dinner for the rest of the family. Not done out of any feelings of love, but out of survival. They were looking at me like one looks at a pound of bacon. 

Realize that I am going to have to wash dishes. Curse at husband quite a bit. Dishes are his job.

Make a seemingly delicious meal of fettuccine alfredo (jarred sauce, you twits. I don't love my family enough to make it from scratch) with the leftover sautéed mushrooms and onions from yesterday's patty melts and homemade garlic bread.

Listen to the happy growls of satiated pack of slobbering beasts family members.

Decide to sit downstairs with Emmy and watch her kill dragons. Continue to knit half-heartedly and finish cuff.

Get excited because other favorite twitch streamer is starting. Watch, chat, and knit until John comes home.

Get excited again because he brought food. Eat dinner and tell him to go wash a foot so I can try on this sock.

Resign myself to the fact that I actually have to touch his foot. Question why I ever thought knitting socks was a good idea.

Barely get sock over heel, but realize that it's loose around his ankle. Think maybe that it's something to do with the fact that the sock is only two inches long at this point. 

Confer with knitting friend, who suggests toe up instead for better customization. Laugh at her because I don't want to frog this stupid thing.

Send him off to do dishes and knit another inch. 

Try sock on again. Same results. 

Confer with knitting friend again. Marvel at the cartoon character-like proportions of my spouse. Try to come up with a thousand different solutions.

Realize that I am, in fact, going to have to frog.

Rip sock apart.

Sit knitting aside and mutter dark thoughts.

Eventually shower and go to bed.

Wake up this morning as John's leaving.

Try to go back to sleep after John goes to work. Fail miserably.

Resign myself to staying awake, despite feeling tired enough that murder seems a sensible punishment for anyone who looks at me...