December 26, 2005Just Ducky Pattern NotesThis post is a suprisingly hard one to write. It's a round-up* of the Christmas presents that I made for my estranged parents. I made these gifts for them in an attempt to reach out and do something personal that might be meaningful for them. I thought at the time that it wouldn't matter if they didn't do anything for me in return, and perhaps in the long run, it won't. I have a wonderful husband, in-laws who spoil me rotten, and a "chosen" family of friends who are always there for me. Parents are people, and perhaps they cannot always do the things that we would like them to. Someday I will learn to accept them as they are. Giving is the important part, and I did feel good making these things for them. 
The guest bed at my friends' house in Pasadena. Stately, yet it coordinates well with the duck.Why the Duck?! (or is that 'What the Duck?!') So we piled into the station wagon (a Chrysler LeBaron with fake wood panelling - you remember the 80's), and headed for Wilson Seed & Feed on Richmond, Virginia's south side, to procure ourselves a duckling. What we did not know when we set out on this quest was that Richmond, booming metropolis that it was, had a bit of a duck problem. Apparently many little boys of my brother's ilk had a need in their hearts to have a duckling of their own. Until, that is, the duckling in question grew up, reaching a height of approximately two and a half feet (much bigger than a cat) and produced sounds not unlike that of a group of third graders practicing for marching band. The grown (and hence outgrown) ducks of new height and impressive noise capacity would then be whisked away under cover of night by the soccer moms of our town, and deposited in the park (ironically "Byrd Park") to fend for themselves, disturbing the neighbors with their trumpeting and harassing park-goers for food. To protect its citizens from the menace of the abandoned ducklings, the city had enacted an ordinance geared to limiting the purchase of duckings to only the most serious of buyers (restauranteers): it was ordained that ducklings could only be purchased in quantities of six or greater. Most mothers might find themselves daunted at the prospoect of owning, not just one, but half a dozen ducklings. In fact, I believe that in THE GREAT BIG BOOK OF PARENTING DILEMNAS there is an entire chapter devoted to broken promises, and how to explain that in this life mommy and daddy cannot possibly keep every promise that they have made, because if they did, their house would be over-run with ducks. Needless to say, my mother has never taken a chapter from THE GREAT BIG BOOK OF PARENTING DILEMNAS. She instead, almost without pause, purchased six ducks. And, for about two months (the time period required for the ducks to reach their full adult height and lung capacity), we owned six ducks. I think I have said before that we lived within the city limits. We did not have an inordinate amount of land, and the land we had was not fenced with anything, let alone the kind of fencing that would be required to contain six ducks. What we did have was an unfinished basement (cement floors with a drain in the middle - thank god for small favors), and several very deep bathtubs. So for these two months we kept the ducks in their space in the basement the majority of the time, with several daily jaunts up and down the stairs (all in single file, following my brother) to the bathtub for a little swim. It was an idyllic time. The only one who was not pleased with this state of affairs (I was 13 at the time, so old enough to know that my mother's decision was a little off, but still young enough to think of it as "cool"), was my father, who did not find the copious duck poop that then lined our basement to be the most charming addition to what had previously been his personal wood-working shop and sanctuary. He blew off steam by occasionally shouting out something vaguely accusatory about all the damn 'duck butter,' which was his euphamism for the duck poop that was rapidly filling our house. Why my father chose this instance to wax poetic and euphamize I will never know. He has never been a man to mince words and he has the mouth of a sailor, so this was certainly a strange time for him to hold back. In his position I am quite sure that I would let fly with the explitives. But while the ducks did not stick (they were finally and tearfully sent to a friend's horse farm equipped with a pond out in Goochland), the Duckbutter did. It was a nickname that my brother christened him with (most likely in retaliation for the departure of the ducks), and that my father grew to love over time and feel was symbolic of their bond. We have called my father Duckbutter, Duckie or some variation of the two for over twenty years now. It's hard to remember a time when we referred to him as 'dad'. The name became even more precious with the passing of my brother about four years ago. It is one of the small legacies of my brother that continues to live on regardless of the passing of time, or the changes in our lives and relationships with each other. Hence, the duck.  Just Ducky Pillow Size: One. About 7"x10" The Pattern I got a little off course, and ended up with a duck that has a rather primitive look about the head and bill. One of my knitting buddies at Knit Cafe, Denise Boutier (aka "Grandma Hollywood" - but that's another story), referred to it as a ptera'duck'tyl - which I love! I considered ripping back and revising it, but decided that my parents, who have some primitive art here and there, would probably like it as is. I did a little stitching around the edges to even things out, but I have a feeling that might have made it more, rather than less, dinosaurian. I loved dong the intarsia on this piece, and I've realized, to my own complete suprise, that there is more intarsia (just a little, tastefully done) in my future. I had a great time!
Impressions of Rowan's Wool Cotton: *I had plans to write about my mom's gift as well, but after a post of this length, I'm tuckered out. I'll post some pictures later this week.
Posted by Julia at 09:06 AM
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December 12, 2005Charting a course for ChristmasThis weekend I finally got my act together and started my Christmas knitting. Normally, I would be a little more conscientious and start earlier, but I had a few things I wanted to finish up first. There was a little Birdie that had to be finished and find her way home, the all-important stealth knit, which I felt needed to make its photographic debut on Roosevelt Island, and then finally the matter of a lovely pair of charity socks that had to be completed and sent off to their new owner (They're coming, Karen! The socks are blocking as we speak and as soon as they dry they are off post haste!) Like everyone else I know, I often have grandiose Christmas knitting plans which get severely truncated when I realize exactly how long it will take me if I do indeed knit them all. Do I really want to start Christmas knitting in August? Even worse, do I want to be finishing Christmas gifts in May? Not so much. My revised "short list" of knitted items includes only two main gifts - one for each parent. The old folks have every other item you could imagine giving them, so really handknits are the way to go. They're personal, useful, and what parent doesn't love something that their kid (even if she is 33) made for them herself? Plus, these gifts will beat the pants off of all those macaroni sculptures I made them a few decades ago. Here's the start of what I'm making for my dad: 
Yes, it is a duck. There's a back story on that which I'll share with you soon!In the past, I haven't had a great deal of interest in intarsia. Recently, though, I've come across a few intarsia pieces that really interested me. There are some awesome free charts over at Chez Dominitrix - I am so making a Rosie the Riveter tank top next summer! - and I really love Jenna Adorno's mudflap girl tank in Stitch & Bitch Nation. These designs really take intarsia out of the realm of hotel-oil-painting-kitschy-crap and into the world of fun, hip, retro and chic. So when I was thinking of what to make my dad for Christmas and came up with the duck idea, I decided I'd use the opportunity to brush up on my intarsia skills as well. Here's my favorite detail so far: 
Is that not the cutest little tail?Making your own chart for intarsia is not nearly as hard as you might think. Here's what I did: 1. Choose your yarn and make a guage swatch. 2. Get out a calculator and divide the number of rows per inch by the number of stitches per inch in your guage. This is your aspect ratio. 3. Go to Sweaterscapes and print out custom graph paper that exactly matches your guage, using your aspect ratio. (They also have an intarsia primer if you're feeling a little rusty. I especially like their tip on using clothespins rather than bobbins.) 4. Print the chart grid onto tracing paper or some other paper that is easy to see through. 5. Draw or "find" an image outline that suits your purposes. (Note: If you use a found image, remember to respect copyright. It's fine to make a chart for personal use, but you should not distribute the chart pattern if someone else's copyrighted work was used to create the image, nor should you sell items knitted using a copyrighted image. Whether it's okay to distribute a charted image can be hard to determine - the charts I linked to above are most likely of images in the public domain and therefore useable - if in doubt, play nice and chart for personal use only.) 6. If the image is too small or too large, adjust the size by using the enlarge/reduce option on a copying machine to tweak the proportions. 7. Lay the image under the graph paper and trace its outline. 8. After the outline is complete, fill in the squares of the chart that are inside the lines of the outline by 50% or more. 9. Determine how much background space you want on the sides of your image, and add that number of stitches and rows into the equation. (I'm making a pillow, so I adjusted for a background buffer of 1.5 inches in each direction to accomodate the slope that will be created by the stuffing. This was a guess - let's hope it works!) 10. Knit! P.S. For those of you wanting to know the outcome of my button dilemna, I'm still deciding! I tried one option this weekend and didn't like it, so I'm trying another this week. I'll let you know what I go with - promise!
Posted by Julia at 08:10 AM
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