Knitpistolwhipped at the Grange Fair.

After the runaway success of last year's Grange Fair knitting competition, the Knitpistols were on a submission frenzy this year. I had finally agreed to enter some of my things (well, okay, almost everything I've knitted that turned out half decently) and even got our paperwork hand delivered on time. Wexlermoon and Unraveling were set as well with their incredible horde of apparel, pillows, and little birds. Really, I am continually in awe of their expertise. I myself was putting in my green Wisp, my sister's Noro scarf, my Wisteria scarf and matching Aspen hat, one of the twin's baby leaf hats and booties, and my Rose Brown hat. Sadly, the cotton tweed cardigan I was working on did not get finished in time, so I was going without on that submission. Had that been the only disappointment of the event.

Opening day arrives, and we caravan to the Grange to submit our knitted pieces at the proper building. That's where the drama begins. We go first to the submission table, but are told to go get our paperwork and tags from the other end of the building. So we grab our paperwork and work our way back to the submission table. Upon further examination, we realize there are only about half the tags for the number of items we actually entered. It appears we've each got a single entry tag for each general category classification and we all have multiple submissions in several categories. So the women at the submission table tell us to take our tags back and explain our problem to the women at the paperwork table so that they can correct it, and we dutifully trudge back to the table to show them the error of their ways. THIS, my friends, is where we learn of the existence of the unwritten, unspoken rule I like to call the Invisible Knitpistol Clause. Because we are told at the paperwork table that we are not allowed to submit more than one item for any category classification. Not having entered last year, I cannot speak to this firsthand and decided to stay in the background, because I was with two knitpistols who knew their entry regulations backwards and forwards. (For the record, the 40+ page rules handbook states that each item can only be submitted in a single category, but nowhere does it state that submissions are limited to only one item per category.)  Let me grace you with a brief snippet of the exchange:

"Hi. We're missing some of our submission tags." 

"Ah. I need to speak with you over here." 

"Is there a problem?" 

"No, but you can only submit one item per category." 

"Really? Where does it say that in the rule book?" 

"It doesn't." 

"Well, we did it last year." 

"No, you didn't." 

"Really? Because we did. I still have all my submission tags and can show you if you'd like." 

"No, you didn't. I've worked this for 18 years, and we've never allowed multiple entries in a category." 

"I'm sorry, where is this in the rule book?" 

"It isn't there."

You get the gist here. So we took our limited options and returned to the other side of the building to the sympathetic women who couldn't do anything about it, and picked out what we hoped would be the best of the best of what we had to enter. As we waited for them to process our items, we looked over the other entries and I felt somewhat confident. But hey, what is it they say? Pride always goes before the fall? Yep. That's the one.

Fast forward to Saturday. I was busy moving TheDude into his freshman dorm room at Lock Haven University, but noticed Wexlermoon checked into the Grange Fair and so I kept an eye out for entry updates, but Twitter was suspiciously quiet. Finally unable to wait any longer, I tweeted that I was waiting for Grange knit updates, and only got the following response from Audrey:

"Yeah about that... you should give @wexlermoon a call. She is the one who is at #grange."

If you can't read between the lines, let me help you here. Decoded, that reads:

"Yeah about that... you should give @wexlermoon a call. We got fucked."

So it turns out that the Invisible Knitpistol Clause also extends into the competition itself. Some stuff placed, but it was disappointing, and clearly they were determined not to have the wrong side of the valley take over the competition this year. Do I think Audrey and Hannah got gypped? Definitely. As for me, apparently my three items placed in second or third, but my stuff really wasn't that intricate (except, now that I think about it, for Rose Brown. That lacework shit was hard). Do I really care about the Grange? No, not really. Yes, it's a competition, but clearly the BlueHairs got their perms in a snit, and cold cocked us with our own knitpistols to protect their territory. I don't think we're looking for a turf war, quite simply because I couldn't give a crap about the fair. I don't think the quality is there, so I don't think it's a realistic comparison. Let the BlueHairs have their acrylic granny squares, and I'll take the mohair and alpaca and luscious natural fibers and atypically beautiful and intricate designs.

Fuck 'em if they can't take the heat.

A kick butt slogan.

I know I've been off the radar here, but things have been rather busy in the real world. However I *have* been knitting. Honest. And I promise I'll update soon--both Ravelry and blog. I've simply been blogging so much for work (among other things) that I'm a tad tired of listening to myself jabber on and on. But I thought this would help. I mean, srsly, how can knitters not rock this kind of motto?

Squee!!

Tattoo you.

creative commons flickr image by new_sox
I'm starting to worry about myself. Lately I've been seeing more and more tattoos that cause the "Ooh, I like that. A LOT." thought to skitter across my brain. This is another one that looks funky enough to trip my knitpistol trigger. Brought to my attention by long time friend and new knitpistol fruittart, I totally dig it--especially the way the yarn wraps around her wrist to twist itself around the other needle. Didja catch that part?

Very cool.

Oh, My Giddy Aunt!

So today I sat down to do some stash updating and attending to my Ravelry account, and look at what my inbox had in it:



Holy smokes!!! They like my mobius so much that they want to put it on the Life Is Uneven Cowl Ravelry page??!!!? That's so ... INCREDIBLE! Not to mention unreal. And right, like I'm not gonna approve this request? You have GOT to be freaking KIDDING ME. Approve! Approve! Approve!

This is what I get for channeling Audrey. :) w00t!

Once more into the yarnporn.

I have something to confess: I have been studiously ignoring my Ravelry account. Ever since Ravelympics, I have been so burned out on maintenance that I've been afraid to go back in. There's still seven messages in my queue, which are full of Ravelympic badges that I won for all the work I did, but that three week push just did me in. I know it sounds pathetic. But it's taken over a month to gather the strength to go back in and start cleaning up, putting things into place, organizing new stash items (and even moving some to the "Will sell or trade" category, believe it or not), and just generally wading back into the waters of yarnporn. Yarn that has been sitting in limbo is now getting pulled out and pictures taken, and the time has come to upload and update the stash.

....And on the Nth Day, Robin Rested.

It is done.

The Noro scarf for my sister is finished. And it is beautiful. I know that several of my posts here were a little frustrated, but it was more with my learning curve, and much less with the scarf itself. I've learned a lot:

• How to create a neat, finished, slip stitch selvedge
• How to finish the edge of a 1x1 rib so it doesn't look wavy
• How to get around Noro's occasional sudden color change by knot
• When to tell that the color play really needs to be pulled out and fixed. Clearly, the more contrast, the better the scarf.

Ravelympics. It begins.

I'm a fairweather Olympics fan at best. Better in winter than summer, but if something interesting's happening elsewhere, I'm gone. This year, however, I'm beside myself with excitement. Ravelympics 2010 begins tonight. Team Knit Pistols will be sitting down together, simultaneously watching the lighting of the torch and casting on the first of our #teamknitpistol projects. We then continue through the night, only stopping to nap if the time is right. With this much excitement, and that much sugar, I doubt much sleep will happen. The food! The drinks! The desserts! The drinks! The cupcakes! The drinks!

Oh my giddy Aunt. I am, indeed, a #knitpistol.

Ravelry Repost: That's right I said it...

I'm reposting something that was originally posted on a Ravelry forum, and I cannot begin to itemize the number of ways this boyfriend got it right and made me LOL. So whomever you are, girlfriend, you have indeed trained him well.

I am not a knitter. I joined Ravelry to see where my girlfriend spends her time on the internet lol. In the 10 or so months that she’s been knitting I’ve been secretly/overtly observing and documenting this crazy thing called yarn and what it does to people. These things I know to be true.

Muddying the waters...

So, the Noro scarf is merrily rolling along, and I'm well into the second set of balls (!!!). However, as smoothly as the first set went, the second has seen a couple of snags along the way. First, there have been two knotted points where somebody in the Noro factory said, "Hmmm. I'm tired of this color. Let's change....NOW!" and tied the beginning of an entirely different color to the end of your lovely progression, thus messing up the color flow. Do I think anyone besides me is really gonna see this? Probably not, but it does drive me crazy to see it happen (k)not once, mind you, but twice. Who can guarantee it won't happen again before I reach the end? Right. Me neither.

Dammit, Janet.

Muddy
Originally uploaded by robin2go

Sometimes, no matter what you'd rather be doing, you just have to frog that shite and say, "Whatever."

Whatever.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, noro...

So I am finally working on the Noro my sister bought for her scarf, but then gave up because three rows after she cast on she was so tight she couldn't even push a needle through to make a stitch. Like most people, I think the Noro is beautiful and I totally want a Noro striped scarf, but when it comes down to buying the actual yarn, I get overwhelmed by the color selections. And possibilities. And wondering, what if these colors don't exactly work with those colors? Clearly, I need to man up. And so I thought we had come to the perfect solution: by working on my sister's scarf, I get to play with her Noro before I buy and she gets a scarf that's longer than three rows long.

So you'd think.

Game plan.

So it's New Year's, and I've been steadily knitting for just under a year. In fact, I'm only just now starting to feel confident that I might know what's going on. Like, I've finally realized I can't buy sock yarn unless I'm really going to make--and wear--socks. It's not like I don't like socks, but those small needles intimidate me. I mean, I'm sure I can get through one sock, but then I actually have to start over and make a second one. And get them to match. This repetitive nonsense does not compel me to start the first sock in the first place. So obviously that's an area of growth for me. But in other areas, I am progressing. I am slowly figuring out weights, gauge, and patterns. I'm gradually adding new stitches to my repertoire (and when I can't mentally retrieve that repertoire, there's always YouTube, thankfully). I'm not terribly good at self control when it comes to yarnporn; I've gone to two festivals this last year (Maryland, Rhinebeck) and came home with bags full of nom. It has slowly taken over my spare baskets and is spilling over onto the floor. Over the past several weeks I've finally gotten my stash somewhat in order, with pictures taken and uploaded, and information entered, so that when I get to choosing a new project--like now--I will be prepared. Errr, sorta.