I am a dental hygienist. It\’s a wonderful profession and I enjoy it immensely.Yes, I may be a secret Sneak Knitter, a Lucille Ball-esque wife, a wannabe knitwear designer and many other things, but when I am not moonlighting as a pseudo-sock-developer and writer-in-training, I am helping to take care of people\’s oral health as an RDH.

Notwithstanding some of the sillier stereotypes you may find yourself calling to mind upon hearing this acronym, such as the RDH portrayed on \”The Office\” as a short-term love interest for Dwight, the alpha male beet farmer, you may be wondering right now if you like me anymore. You might be thinking, \”Hey! Isn\’t she the chick who yells at me about flossing everytime I visit the dentist?\” Then you might snort to yourself–the sort of involuntary sound that leaves one\’s throat, via the nose, in disgust–that you must now decide whether or not to read on.

Well, dear reader, this story will not be about tooth flossing today, per se, so you can relax. (Though you really should consider the habit. New Year\’s fast approaches. And oral bacteria sleeps for no man.)

I work in a wonderful dental office. We have a terrific staff and are fortunate to have doctors who regularly implement the latest research and technology into the practice. Consquently, we have pretty high tech equipment and we all try our hardest to pass on the latest health research to our patients in order to best serve them. Yet, while 3-D panoramic xrays and cutting edge restorative materials may really help to improve patient care, some of the standard equipment still seem irreplacable. Like good ol\’ dental floss.

Floss, it could be argued, is one of the most important things we use in our homecare instruction, and we generally spend a lot of time and energy teaching people how to use it correctly. And usually it is in the promotion of the health of their gums.

A while back, I was working very early. It was one of a few days in the week where we all arrive at 6:45a.m. and begin seeing patients at 7:10 a.m. Anyone who has ever worked that early knows that everyone, including the patients/customers/students (depending on the setting), feel a little reserved, mellow, at that time of day. In a phrase, all is quiet.

On that very early morning, one of my favorite patients was coming in. She is a knitting friend and a super all-around person. Needless to say, I was pretty excited to see her. I knew she would set a positive, energetic tone for my whole day.

Enter Dory, one of the coolest, spriteliest (did I just make that word up?), red-headed, tiny women to ever walk the earth. She bubbled into my operatory, smiling and generally exuding sparkly energy all around her. Time of day has no effect on her and she instantly livened the atmosphere in our little space together, even if the rest of the world seemed sleepy.

Dory was a beginning knitter at the time–and let\’s face it, so was I. It was hard for us to get down to dental business when we had so many stitches, patterns and ideas to discuss. We excitement to share in our newly-discovered lifestyle–er, hobby. We enjoyed helping each other and there was trouble shooting to do.

We went through most of the hour resisting the urge to break out into a full knitting discussion. We updated all of her dental care, did her cleaning through short, frequent breaks to add one sentence pieces to our ongoing knitting conversation and before we knew it, we had happily completed our dental necessities–our real reason for being there. We agreed that we really needed to get together sometime to have a full on help-each-other session in knitting. While we waited for her exam with the doctor, Dory mentioned to me, \”You know, I just can\’t get that purl stitch down.\”

I gave a rough beginner\’s explanation of how to purl. But there is something that happens when one is a beginner. You might know yourself how to do a new task, but have a hard time explaining it to another. You don\’t have mastery yourself, so you simply cannot use terms that mean anything to anyone, let alone another learner. I struggled to explain where to place the right needle in terms that made sense and the counterclockwise direction of the yarn needed for wrapping said needle for the new stitch was lost in my words.

Dory looked at me. I knew I was the blind leading the blind. Now we were both confused. There was a little silence. Then, as is often the case with people who are excited to share a new skill before they are really ready, I decided I needed a visual presentation. Right then.

I did not have yarn. I had floss, though. Miles of it. And I had no needles. I looked at my hands. Fingers would not do. How about…pencils? I had heard of children using them to learn on. I had none. I had pens. Two of them in the pocket of my white coat. One red and one black. I pulled them out. They were both covered in the poplular non-slip rubbery coating so often seen on office pens.

I held them in my left hand and pulled out a length of waxed floss with my right. As I attempted to explain what I was doing, I made a slip knot and tried–out of context–to cast on. That was even lost on me for a moment. I faltered. Then I got it. I put a few challenging, sticky waxed stitches onto the even stickier red pen. They looked really uneven. I mentally flashed back to a 1979 summer recreation class for kids and really bad macrame.

Dory was trying to watch what I was doing as though I were some sort of expert. At this point, I think she thought that I knew what I was talking about and that she was just not understanding.  I kept the truth to myself as I struggled with the black pen and tried to decide how I was going to even slide the makeshift \”yarn\” along the \”needle.\”

I poked the black pen towards myself through the first loop on the red one, wrapped the floss around the black pen and attempted to make a stich.

It took me about 3 minutes to get 3 stitches transfered from left pen to right pen. I held them up as I used more and more words, trying to get the right description, explaining not only the actual stitches and how they should be executed, but also how they were looking different in this waxey format.

My friend looked puzzled. I think she was catching on. I caught a pity smile. She even tried to imitate my jerky purl motions on the pens.

After a long pause, she said, \”Oh, I\’ll get it! I\’ll try it at home. Don\’t worry about it!\” Now she laughed as though to laugh with me (and it was pretty convincing), \”There\’s always Youtube!\”

Just then, the very patient dentist I work for came into the room. He smiled. \”Did you get any cleaning done in here?\” More pity smiles? Maybe I imagined those. Maybe not.

Two things are certain. First, there will unlikely be any classes on knitting with waxed floss offered anywhere anytime soon. Second, I now have a knitting basket in my room at work.

You never know.

\”Grandmother, I am almost grown now. How shall I live my life?\”  Nala was almost 13 years old. She had been thinking about her impending adulthood. Now she stood before Grandmother with questions in her eyes.

Grandmother was taken aback by the sudden approach. She had been sitting with her knitting needles and a ball of good wool–her old friends these 45 years at least–when her Little One approached her. She put them, along with her hands, on her faded calico apron that covered an even more faded green and gold paisley skirt and quietly turned to the child and looked into her young, green eyes. Grandmother thought that Nala\’a gaze was that of a much older girl, one trying on the airs of a woman.

\”Little One,\” she said in a gentle tone, \”Why do you ask this question? You have many years yet to prepare for the challenges that certainly come in to every life.\” She waited.

Nala straightened her spine. If she looked taller, she thought, she might be taken more seriously. \”I am growing bigger all the time, Grandmother,\” said she, standing even straighter as if to show proof, \”and before I know it, I will be a woman.\”

Grandmother looked at the tiny woman-to-be, with the knock knees and skinny arms and legs. She knew this time came for all girls. The time when they felt they could no longer wait to grow up, the time when they wished that time would move faster. Little did they know… but then, who could change the way things had always been? She sighed, wished that childhood would last just a little bit longer in the hearts of girls, and then she reached for Nala\’s hands.

Nala recognized the gesture and held them out from long, thin arms, palms up. Grandmother\’s hands, thick from many years of hard work and much bigger than the child\’s, came up under Nala\’s. She pushed Nala\’s hands up to force a bend at the elbows, making her fingers point at the ceiling. Nala noticed that Grandmother\’s hands were much stronger than they looked, with very soft, crepe paper skin to cover them.

Leaving Nala\’s fingers pointing up, Grandmother reached silently for her wool and began.

She tied a loop at one end and placed it on Nala\’s pinky finger. Nala thought the wool was rough.

\”First, Little One, you must begin with a foundation, solid and firm.\” She began weaving the yarn back and forth in a figure eight around the child\’s small, soft fingers. \”The foundation is the beginning and if it is sound, you can always return to it if you lose your way.\”

Nala was puzzled. She had come for answers. \”Grandmoth–\” she tried, but Grandmother continued weaving the yarn slowly, deliberately back and forth.

\”Along the way, you will encounter many choices,\” she began to pull the second row of yarn over the first, creating little circlets,\” and you will have to make decisions. Keep following your foundation and you will make fewer mistakes.\”

Grandmother continued weaving back and forth, back and forth, then pulling the yarn over each finger one at a time. Nala decided to be silent for a moment. After a few more times around, Grandmother took Nala\’s hand and, without words, showed her how to weave back and forth, too. There was a chain forming at Nala\’s knuckles. She became fascinated by the intricacy of the quickly growing fabric formed by the simple wool yarn.

Nala struggled as she tried to mimic the movements Grandmother made, but Grandmother guided her hand. \”Remember not to only rely on yourself on your journey, Little One, do not be afraid to ask for help from those you trust.\”

Back and forth, back and forth Grandmother worked.

\”What if I make a mistake when I am alone?\” Nala worried, \”Will my chain unravel?\”

Grandmother smiled, \”You can make some mistakes and your chain will still stay strong. It might even become more interesting.\”

The slow, even weaving process resumed, and Grandmother looked down once more, helping Nala\’s fingers do the work.

\”Grandmother, will I be able to do this on my own?\”

\”Your hands will eventually remember the motions. When you make the correct motions from the start, you might be slow at first, but you will form good habits and you will do this more and more with ease. Your skill will become strong.\”

Grandmother had not addressed the idea of an unraveling chain. Nala was a bit unnerved by this. \”Grandmother, what if I make a mistake that does not hold strong?\”

\”Your chain will unravel. Sometimes all the way.\” Grandmother was unmoved by her own statement. She just continued weaving slowly, laboriously. Nala could not understand this.

\”If it unravels all the way, what would I do?\” Nala searched Grandmother\’s eyes.

\”If your foundation is strong, you can always start over.\” Patiently Grandmother continued back and forth, back and forth.

That sounded like a lot of trouble to the child. Nala was impatient, as children often are. To work for so long only to have something come completely undone! How could Grandmother be so calm?

\”How do I do it right in the first place? I mean, Grandmother, it does not sound good to have to begin again!\” Nala was becoming irritated. \”I do not wish to have to reweave my chain!\”

Grandmother stopped weaving for a moment and firmly held Nala\’s hands in hers. The wool scratched Nala\’s hands. Grandmother looked once more into Nala\’s eyes. So young. They had gone from confident to uncertain. Grandmother firmed her lips, then she smiled.

\”Sometimes that is when we learn the most and the best, Little One.\”

Grandmother loosened her grasp on Nala\’s hands. Together, they continued the task of weaving the wool into a chain. It was getting very long.

At length, Nala asked Grandmother one last thing: \”Grandmother?\”

Grandmother stopped.. \”Yes, Little One?\”

\”What do I do when my chain is finished?\”

Grandmother did not even hesitate. \”Use it to show another the way.\”

There is a slight smell of smoke in the crisp air, a new indirectness to the light and heat of the sun, and tiny active birds and spiders scurrying or flitting about. The feelings of people are changing, too.




First Day of School at Our House



We are preparing in our own way for Fall.


We buy our kids new shoes and coats for school, take inventory of our pantry goods to make sure we have the needed ingredients to make at least a few \”comfort food\” meals and send our kids dutifully to school. And for us knitters, there are a few additional instinctive urges.


Our thoughts turn to all things fiber. We peruse the dangerously tempting Fall issues of knitting catalogs and magazines, listing our knitting dreams to ourselves, the same way we perhaps listed our Christmas dreams out of the J.C. Penney\’s catalog as children. Our dreams are no less vivid now, just different.


My own mind turns to thoughts of my rocking chair with my knitting baskets all around it in the late afternoon sun. (The kids are not home in this fantasy…) I have my classical music on the radio and my graph paper and computer handy, too, just in case inspiration strikes. Time is only a vague concept and this afternoon goes on and on.


My hands are a flurry, cranking out lovely gifts for my family and I have a cup of coffee on the nightstand next to me that stays hot for hours…


While this fantasy is really not pragmatic given the crazy nature of my real life with six children and a full time job, it sure takes me away, and it is just the ticket for a mental escape every once in a while. And it is not without its own sort of truths. 

I really have started considering what to make my family for Christmas and have already gone a little crazy with back to school treats for my daughters, friends and mother-in-law. Right now my thing has been fingerless mitts. Lots of them.


I had never made a pair and, for some reason, they piqued my interest through this whirlwind of golden sun, school shoes and newly blooming garden mums.


It first began at work. Some of us were saying how nice it would be to own a pair. Before we knew it, we were on the computer one day after work, then we were on Ravelry poking around in the patterns, then we were saving and printing mitt after mitt. I headed home, checked my stash inventory–a favorite pasttime. I know what I have, I just like to handle it all–then it was off to the LYS to get more yarn for the perfect fingerless creations.

Of all the newly discovered fingerless mitt patterns, very few were exactly what I needed, but they all had great potential. So upon getting home on Wednesday afternoon after one particularly successful yarn shop adventure, I dug in. I knitted one pair exactly as written, then the next three I changed a bit for the individuals I had in mind for the patterns.

One for my mother-in-law\’s arthritic hands with snug fit and a very fitted thumb gusset for support, so she could hold her beloved books for hours on end. One for my daughter who plays guitar and cannot have loose fitting tops on her tiny hands. One for me in a cavalcade of colors like falling leaves.


I am not done, the madness continues. But if this is madness, I\’ll live here. Happily.


Here are a few of the awesome free patterns I found:


http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/zephyr-fingerless-mitts-and-mitten-option


http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/75-yard-malabrigo-fingerless-mitts


http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/cabled-mitts-7

My favorite part of the sock–and the most fun to knit. It could be rolled down if one wanted to put several rows of garter stitch before beginning the cuff.

I have slaved away at this new sock design for two weeks too long, now. It has become something I think, eat, sleep, and dream about.

It was not supposed to be as hard as I have made it, but that\’s how I seem to do everything, so maybe the process cannot be helped.  And hopefully the work is paying off.

I have a few preview pictures of the first completed sock, so any feedback will be helpful.

This toe-up pattern consists of a front and back matching pattern with a ribbed separation between the F/B pattern and the sides, which are zigzags.

The crowning piece of this sock is the top, meant to resemble a castle turret, not unlike one that may be found at Howwart\’s. It is knitted continously with the leg of the sock at the end.

There will be a few charts for this sock. Here is one rough draft:

If you can figure this out, go ahead and knit away. I won\’t chase you : ) The complete pattern will be out as soon as possible on Ravelry, along with a pdf for the Fountains of Portland pattern. (No, I haven\’t forgotten that one)

As for my \”We\’re Still Wild About Harry\” sock, here are a few pics of the roughly finished product.



Lightning Bolt motif runs down the front and back of the sock



 

 Happiest of knitting to you all. Wish sometimes I could do it like Mrs. Weasley. On with the rest!






I want to create a Harry Potter sock design. Oh, I\’m sure lots of people have already done this, but I want to try it, too.



From the toe up, you can see  how many rows it took me to \”perfect\” the lightning, avant garde though it may be.

 My four older children are huge fans and each one of them has a complete hardcover (and a softcover) set of the series. My son even made me (ok, I wanted to…) stand in a very long line at midnight outside Barnes & Noble when the last couple of books came out just so he would have a shorter break in his reading of the stories.


Like so many other families, we have seen all the movies, purchased all the incarnations of the home versions–gift boxes and otherwise–and watched them each several times. My oldest daughter recites them almost as well as she recites lines from The Princess Bride and all the Pirates movies.

My younger daughter, now 11, still dressed as Harry Potter last Halloween for the third year in a row (we borrowed her grandma\’s old 50\’s wig–not a replica–which makes a very nice Harry Potter hairstyle. Well, that is, maybe until this last use. Now it more resembles Jim Carry\’s \”Lloyd\” character in Dumb and Dumber with the extra short bangs. I wonder if my daughter got hold of the scissors? Hmmm…)


At any rate, I know we are not special. We are shamelessly riding the Harry Potter wave and me saying I want to design an HP sock is like saying I want to dress like Austin Powers for a costume party: it\’s been done, played, tapped out–the complete opposite of original.


But I don\’t care.




Grawk Med Weight by Blue Moon Fiber Arts

 The muses spoke to me upon a single viewing of Grawk Fledge and Grawk by Blue Moon Fiber Arts in Socks That Rock. They said, \”Hey, you should design a sock in homage to a fad that is so huge, so Not-Indy, so commercial, that your friends might even puke when they see it.\”


Well, no one will probably puke. I mean, what knitter can puke honestly before Blue Moon or even any good smelling hand dyed wool? I really think that the worst that can happen comes down to a scenario like this:


Me: \”Hey, check out my lightning bolt design!\”
Friend: \”Oh…\” voice trails off…. \”that doesn\’t really resemble a lightning bolt…but it\’s nice.\”


Or this one:


Me: \”Hey, check out my new socks!\”
Friend: \”Oh, those are nice\”

Translation: \”It\’s too bad Janelle doesn\’t know what she\’s doing and no one will buy those. But I won\’t tell her and just let her keep pretending she\’s really designing stuff. At least she\’s more quiet and self-absorbed these days and interrupts me less when I try to talk to her.\”

What may occur doesn\’t matter to me. I\’m doing it.




My most recent attempt at a lightning bolt

 I worked out two of what I thought were lightning bolt designs.  One had a knit between the eyelets while the other did not. I tried out the regular one first, and thought it was too flat.  The more substantial DK weight yarn needed more, well, substance.


I began the second one (yes, in the form of a sock. Stupid, I know, but I just HAD to see it!) and thought it was muddy. The photo on this page is about the 4th incarnation of the lightning and I am likely going back to the first one, and adding columns beside it with baby cables, then entwined snakes.


You know, Parseltongue and all that.




What I think is my final design for the sock

 I think this next time I\’ve got what I want. Do I even know what I\’m doing? No. Will I be able to wear these in 10 years? Sure. Right along with my Dungeons & Dragons tee.

Over the past week, there have been many laments–written, spoken…and I imagine somehow even gestured–about getting on with \”normal\” life. Everyone seems at least a little saddened to go back to their normal routines, with the excitement of Sock Summit behind us all, as nothing but a soon-to-be distant memory.


But is it?


I, along with so many others Summiteers, left the Summit having had a mountaintop experience. While it could be disappointing to come down to sea level, I decided to try to live through my first week back in real life in a happier state overall–to remember each day that I learned a lot and am richer for the experience, thus salving the sting of the loss.


This worked pretty well overall, but there was occasionally still a little longing calling from far away.


Then there was Friday. Friday wan\’t great just because it was Friday. There was something more on this day.


I am a hygienist in a really great practice here in Vancouver, Washington. We have great fun day to day and frankly, we have a lot of great patients, many of whom have become my friends. And many of whom have specifically become my \”knitting friends.\”


The knitting thread (or yarn) has become so apparent in our office that we joke about it all the time. The dentist I work for teases that when knitting friends come in it\’s really hard for me to get their teeth cleaned because we are having such a great time in our comradery.


And it\’s true. We really have to watch ourselves, or the entire hour appointment sometimes can easily wane as we show and tell projects ( I have a knitting basket in my operatory) and share stories and ideas.


For this entire week, there have been no knitting friends on my schedule at work.


Then yesterday, a patient was placed on my schedule that I didn\’t immediately recognize. That is, not until she walked in and sat down. I looked down my chair at her feet and saw handmade knitted socks. I audibly gasped.


Some people recognize folks by their faces, and in my profession, we can recognize people by their smiles and teeth. I apparently now have crossed over into yet another arena–for the first time in my life I recognized someone by their knitting.


\”My God! Are those knitted socks? With beads?!\” My heart was racing. I knew who this was. I exclaimed her name in excitement and all the information I knew about her flooded to my mind. She was a Vancouver neighbor, she knitted all the time, was quite accomplished for her time knitting (not kidding–this girl can create art!), she meets with the Vancouver Mall Knitting group and knew of the same groups here in town that I know of.


And she was at Sock Summit.


Why did we not see each other? We should have talked about this before! When did our groups meets and what were our projects?


She had charts and a sock in progress in her bag with a cute pattern name: \”I Love You, Mom\” They were lovely heart shaped cables in grey and maroon wool. She said she intended to wear them with clogs. I oohed and ahhhed over them.


We talked on and on about patterns and knitting and the Sock Summit. It was like we were thrown right back to last weekend.


During that Friday afternoon hour, some sort of miracle happend–we cleaned her teeth, did all of our necessary things–paperwork and otherwise–and spent a fair amount of time in knitterly sisterhood. It was like time had slowed down.


Was this some sort of gift for us knitters who lamented the loss of the Summit in our small moment together? Did this happen for everyone somewhere in the world this week?


Whatever it was, it felt like magic. And I hope it happens for you.

The last day. Almost always a sad phrase, and saying good-bye to Sock Summit was certainly a bittersweet farewell. Even though people were getting tired, especially the instructors, designers and organizers (and understandibly so!) and attendees were slowly beginning to pack their yarn into their huge pieces of luggage purchased for the sole purpose of toting beautiful fibers back home, we all stuck it out for one last day.


And it was so worth it.

On this day, I spent a little time at the sock museum, which was amazing. There were pieces ranging from today–even as new as \”Almondine,\” which is a new design from Anne Hanson and one we saw in her class–and extending all the way back to around the year 1500–with the exception of a replica of a Roman sandal sock, which I am sure may very well date all the way back to Christ.

The Sock Museum was very well done, in appearance and variety. There were huge, huge socks for display only and socks for no purpose except display and beauty. I would guess these were the sort of thing someone came up with while they were sitting around one day, surrounding by lovely Chilean yarns. The creator looked around and said to herself (or himself, as the time and place may be…), \”hmmm…what strange and imaginary thing could this fiber become?\” 

My favorites were the very old examples of baby booties, one enduring as a common style from today, while one I have never seen before.


All of the colors, textures and interesting historical information were worth a second–and third or fourth–look. I walked through the museum several times.


It truly was inspiring, as was another pass through the lovely marketplace where people were madly finishing up their shopping before heading home. After all, an event like this one presents a wonderful excuse for spending money. Where else would all of this lovely, high quality stuff be collected in one convenient location?

Before heading to my final class, I headed out to the north side of the building. It was still early and the crisp, sunny air felt good as I made my way to the north courtyard. It may have been my imagination, but I felt the energy of the flash mob lingering there. It was peaceful and energized at once, just what I needed for another class.


I sat on a shaded bench with my book, sketch pads, graph paper, calculator and oh, so many balls of yarn. As I pulled out my paper and pencil, I noticed other people enjoying the sunny morning out in the courtyard as well. People quietly smiled at one another as each new bench-sitter arrived, then went on with their knitting in the serene breeze.


I began working out the math for a design idea for a Harry Potter inspired sock and before I knew it, I was engrossed. Using my hank of Socks That Rock in a dark purple and black colorway (a nearly solid Blue Moon Raven colorway that, to me, whispers : Harry Potter) I worked out some lightning designs and then began working on some sizing before I realized that I had to go.


My class was going to start in about 20 minutes.  It was a class on designing with variegated yarn– preventing pooling, using stitch designs and sock architecture to their best advantage, etc.–and it was given by my favorite designer, Chrissy Gardiner.




Chrissy\’s CSK Indie Socks website at  http://www.indiesockbook.com/ Contains info on her latest project, to be released around September, 2011

 She was the person who showed me how to do toe-up socks when I hardly knew how to even knit a sock about a year and a half ago. She spoke to me in such a logical and clear way, I was turned on to socks forever. She is modest and brilliant and I couldn\’t wait to see her.

It wasn\’t until I sat down in class and began pulling out my sock examples that I realized what an embarrassing Chrissy groupie I was. I had several socks in variegated or self striping yarn in my bag, all right. And they were all her designs. When she wanted to display a particular ribbing pattern from her toe up sock book but had no example, well, I had more than one. I laughed, then dismissed my embarrassment–if I like her, I like her. It\’s not like I\’m a stalker. Yet.


I sat next to a wonderfully enthusiastic girl from Canada, Lindsay, who was hilarious. She ran out of class before the marketplace closed just to quickly buy a Japanese stitch dictionary she had been wanting. When she returned, we opened it and laughed out loud. Some of the stitches were crazy zig zags like the mouth on Domo.

We dubbed these stitches, \”Monster Teeth.\”  We laughed all the way through class, and now I\’ve made a new Ravelry friend.


That was really a theme this weekend: sisterhood in knitting. (Guys, you can be included) Solidarity and energy was to be found around every corner.


As I left my last class, I took another walk to the north side of the building. I spent another hour knitting and looking at my own design ideas, enjoying the gentle summer afternoon. After a time, I realized that I really needed to get home to my family.

I bid goodbye to the magical breezes that lilted and swayed the trees hovering over the park benches and slowly wandered back to the Convention Center. I took a last photo of the lighted sign outside that said \”Sock Summit, July 28-31,\” and entered the building once more. I passed many people rolling out their huge bags. The marketplace was now silent.

I stopped and considered some of the sculpted pieces inside the building. I had seen them so many times in the past at various events. I had always admired them, but today I wanted a photo of them. A record of the moment I saw something new in them: design possibilities.


I walked on past the darkened Starbucks and into the parking garage. There was a group of four people standing outside a minivan.


From what I could see through an open sliding door, the van contained two spinning wheels that took up the center seat, and the rest of the vehicle was almost completely filled with bags of lovely yarns that were peeking out due to straining drawstrings. On the ground nearby, there were several similar bags.


The group looked haggard–eight collectively slumping shoulders–and each one fixed their gaze on the open minivan door. They were all strangely silent. I could see they were attempting to solve an insolvable puzzle:  Four adults, already overflowing cargo, and two apparent seats remaining in the minivan.


As I passed them, they didn\’t notice me. It seemed that they were underwater in a way, sort of in a dreamlike state.


I went on to my lonely car still thinking of this little group, one of the last in the garage, and I thought: isn\’t that the way? This has been like a dream. But then all good dreams must come to an end, an awakening.


And hadn\’t both those things happened for me? A dream and an awakening?


If Sock Summit holds this sort of power for people, imagine what can be acheived next time around.


Hello, 2013. We wait for you. Anxiously.



Of course you do. This is Portland.



The Marketplace


It continues.

Friendly, excited women (…and even a few guys! I saw one in a class yesterday!! Right ON, Dude!!) running madly as though it were one of those department store sale scenes in a Looney Tunes Cartoon. You know, the \”50\’s\” ones, where the women, dressed in dresses, pumps, gloves and hats, are tossing aside their dignity to be the first one to tear the pantyhose from the sale table, clawing their way in to the middle of the crowd, crazily tossing out the ones they didn\’t mean to grab and plowing through to find their treasures.

Ok, no one was clawing. But it is getting crowded at the tables. I had a hard time getting in to the Blue Moon Fiber Arts booth to get some medium weight Socks That Rock. (I think my class was not the only one singing the praises of this lovely yarn!) http://www.bluemoonfiberarts.com/newmoon/




This was hanging on a vendor booth, but applies to all of us!

 The books are beginning to dwindle and people are buying yarn at incredible rates. I saw folks yesterday with vivid, beautiful clear plastic draw string bags–floor to elbow high–showing their lovely contents to all who passed the hurrying shoppers. People could hardly contain their excitement about the yarns, \”Oh! Did you see that?\” one woman said to her companion, \”I have GOT to get back to that booth!\”


The excitement was anticipated, too. There were huge luggage-style pieces for sale, hanging out on display on the aisle ends of some of the booths, calling to the shoppers to buy more, as if to say, \”Yes, you can check me as luggage on the plane.\”


And why wouldn\’t we go crazy? The smell of the freshly dyed yarns alone is enough to intoxicate. Add the colorways in vivid, bold variegations to nearly solid colors in enticingly rich hues will bring out the inner poet in anyone. Feel any one of these with your actual fingers, and, well, you\’re getting out your Visa.

One booth, Indigo Dragonfly, http://indigodragonfly.wordpress.com/available-yarn/mcn-sock/, took my heart yesterday, with their beautiful sock yarn. Not only was the quality high, but the titles of the yarn made me nearly pee my pants. No, really.


How about these:


\”Never Go Up Against a Sicilian When Death is on the Line!\”
\”Captain Tightpants\”
\”And Then Buffy Staked Edward. The End.\”


That last yarn title can actually be found on a T-shirt online at http://www.jinx.com/. I may have to buy it. They also have the yarn and crossbones skull that says, \”Yarrrrrrn!\”

As yesterday, I couldn\’t help but listen in to some of the fun conversations.


1. One woman, speaking to her companions, lowered her voice almost to a whisper and said quietly, \”….well…\” looking around, \”…you know, Jane…she doesn\’t really appreciate yarn…\”


2. \”Ok! That was the LAST skein I\’m gonna buy!\”


3. \”It was amazing! At that last booth, they had this thing that you put in another thing, then it becomes this other thing. Then you put that thing in this other thing and it becomes another thing!\”


I have no idea what that last one was all about…but I am going back for more.




My Class with Anne Hanson


I had a wonderful all day class with Anne Hanson yesterday. She is friendly, successful, incredibly knowledgeable and willing to share all these attributes with all of us.


I can\’t begin to say how much I learned from her–from design principles to marketing to business strategies and how to produce a quality pattern….it blows my mind.


There was so much information and I took so many notes that I felt like I was back in college. To complete this experience, all I have to do now is head to Starbucks, don my headphones and rewrite my notes. Today, I think I will.


She was very gracious, and complimentary about everyone\’s work. She was genuinely curious about our projects, which I think says this about her: she\’s chosen the right career. Nothing is more delightful than taking a class from someone who is passionate about their work.


Here is a link to Anne\’s blog. The green socks in this morning\’s entry are included in the Sock Museum at the Summit. http://knitspot.com/


And I get to do it all again today.


After lunch, I am heading to Chrissy Gardiner\’s class on desgin with variegated yarn. Can\’t wait to soak up more great information! Maybe she\’ll let me take a photo with her : )




Fiber Flash Mob


Step aside, Howie Mandel! You can have your surprise wedding proposal flash mob. We have a better one. A fibrous, joyous one. In the words of Linus speaking of the Great Pumpkin believers, we are \”sincere.\” And sincerity makes for an honest–and excited–mob.


I left class freezing cold. Those of you who have ever taken an 8-hour corporate training class know what I mean. The type of cold that slowly freezes you, overcomes your bones from inactitivity and air conditioning.


I headed outside to the north side of the building at around 4:45pm to see if there were people out there yet for the 5:15pm mob. There were huge speakers set up facing away from traffic and what looked like a stage. But what about the crowd?

Not exactly a throng. There were a couple of people who were cold, like me, sitting face up to the sun.  But mostly there were just passers by, people getting ready to hit the light rail train that runs in front of the Convention Center, and a few knitters.


Boy did they throw me off.


The trickly began shortly after I arrived. Five minutes passed. More trickling. Then a little milling.

By 5:05pm, there were people unabashedly carrying around hanks of yarn, looking for something to happen, talking about their day and sitting down here and there.


Within the last ten minutes, there were so many people that you could hardly find a place to stand. People were excitedly talking and strangers to the Sock Summit were appearing, puzzled.

I was standing off to one side when a young woman and man approached from my left, \”We heard something about a flash mob, \” they said, pulling out a camera.


I explained a little bit to them about what was happening. They laughed. They thought it was awesome.


Then the two people from the instructional video appeared. One with a headset. They stood between the speakers, waiting for the music to start. I looked around. The very young and the very old stood side by side. This is what it\’s all about, I thought.

Then a young woman caught my attention. She was near me and I could hear her saying, \”anyone not doing the flash mob have a skein of yarn I can borrow?\” She was hurried as it was about to start. I had a skein of Blue Moon in my bag. I had purchased it for a design idea for a Harry Potter sock.


I called out, \”I have one!\” I planned on taking pictures instead of dancing. She came up to me and I handed her the yarn. She said, \”Oh! But you\’re giving me \’Socks That Rock!\’ \” We laughed at the idea that she might run off with it.




You\’re never to young for a fiber flash mob.

 Then I saw her name badge: Mary Potter. 


No way. It\’s a sign. I must complete this design idea.


Mary Potter moved to her place, and I took mine.


The huge speakers began to play \”I Had the Time of My Life\” from Dirty Dancing and everyone screamed and cheered. Then the dancing started.


Earlier on, I heard a lot of people worried about their ability to do the choreography. But when it began, it was as though they had been practicing together for days.


Smoothly, joyfully, everyone turned, waved and moved in time. The crowd went wild. By the end, everyone was cheering and having a great time. At the end, everyone threw their yarn into the air, like so many high school grads tossing their hats into the air.

What a day. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yOUL_S6tVr8

You can see my idea for a knitting flash mob in my wishful thinking Portlandia script blog entries. Scroll down this page and check out \”Popular Posts.\” There is a part II, not listed there, but can be found under \”older blog entries.\”


We all had the same idea, apparently. And what an idea it turned out to be.

I\’ve been there and back: Day Two

Ok, so it\’s not day two for me–I\’ve only been there today so far–but it IS day two for the event.

I dared to take crazy baby Amy Rose to the Convention Center this morning. I plopped her securely into her little red stroller in the underground parking garage, where her screams echoed nicely against the wide cement walls. I am certain that even people outside on the sidewalk paused for a moment, deciding whether or not they should dial 9-1-1.

In the end, Amy  succumbed and we headed into the building through the elevators. People attending the event were very nice today. In fact, you could watch all of us eyeballing each other in anticipation as we wandered in, everyone wondering which among the strangers were heading to the Summit. People would make eye contact, smile and shyly make a yarn joke. When the other suspected attendees laughed, the ice was broken and there was joy abounding as conversations erupted.

To be honest, it was pretty easy to separate the computer convention people from the Summit people. The computer folks definitely had their game faces on and seemed a little–well, I hate to say it, but….uptight.

The yarn girls were easy, friendly and gave body language that said, \”I am so excited to be here, I can hardly stand it.\”  Also, they were mostly wearing lovely, amazing shawls, shawlettes, headbands, socks and other fabulous hand crafted knitwear. I will admit: this really gives it away.

Such set the tone of the day.

There were not too many people when I arrived. It was morning, and getting around was easy. The shopping was fantastic, the staff running the event was incredibly excited and helpful and there was fun free stuff to be had! Everything seemed to be going smoothly.

I got my pre-purchased knitting bag from the swag booth, some free emergency sock yarn and a sweater saving kit from Blue Moon Fiber Arts and put my name on a few email lists including Knit Purl here in Portland.

I learned that Blue Moon Fiber Arts and Knit Purl–among other companies, I have no doubt–have socks-of-the-month clubs. For around $200 for the year 2012, you can sign up to have new patterns and just-coming-out yarns sent to your home. Pretty cool! The folks at Knit Purl say they are very excited about next year as the theme will be \”Masterpieces,\” as in fine art masterpieces.

Yarrrrrn!

I wandered up and down every aisle, checking out the sock museum where there are some wonderful examples of vintage patterns ranging from hundreds of years old, to new things today.

The socks at left caught my eye because my 22 year old daughter, Jolene, and I were just recently laughing about a T-shirt we found online sporting a skull made of yarn and stuck through with needles, skull and crossbone style that said, \”Yarrrrrrn!!\”

There are much finer historical examples than this, and I will try to get more pics tomorrow and Sunday of those.

Amy on how to shop: \”Cheese! Mommy, I want to give it to the lady!!!\”

After the sock museum, Amy Rose and I headed out for more shopping. Amy kept yelling, \”One, two, THREE!!!\” and throwing her legs wide and into the air, trying to get me to tip the stroller back to which she would squeal, \”Wheeeee!!!!\” It was charming to people for a while, and some laughed or made fun comments about it, but I have a feeling that, as things became more crowded and Amy\’s leg tossing began hitting people, it was not quite as cute.

I decided I had better make any desired purchases today, during the week while the selection remained good and no one was throwing me out because my toddler was bruising people\’s shins. Besides, you never know about weekends at an event like this and I saw Shannon Okey\’s tweets about selling so much of her stuff already. I decided to act!

The lovely yarn at Hazel Knits

I purchased Ann Budd\’s Sock Knitting Master Class book and three beautiful skeins of superwash merino with nylon in amazing hand dyed color from Seattle Washington\’s \”Hazel Knits.\”  I kept it low key, but I could have spent oh, so much more money! I would have needed a wheel barrow to carry out all the tantalizing things for sale that were calling my name.



The same yarn from the perspective of a stroller–this is the same perspective that gives toddlers an interesting view of people\’s behinds.


This leads me to my favorite moments in people watching.

Whenever I am at an event, be it the Clark County Fair, the mall or even just the grocery store, I can\’t help myself. I just have to watch behaviors and to eavesdrop. And I am never dissapointed with the things I notice or hear.

My faves:

1. A husband says to his wife in passing, \”How are you going to get all this yarn you\’re buying into the suitcase?\” She snorted, glared at him and walked stiffly ahead.

2. Two well dressed ladies ahead of me in the hallway entered the Marketplace first. They both stopped short. They looked around, taking it all in for a moment, then one said breathlessly, helplessly to the other, \”Ohhhhhh…I can tell I am going to have to watch my spending today!\”

3. A woman wandering the aisles, \”Boy, am I glad most of these booths don\’t take credit cards!\”

4. My favorite of the day was from myself. I have seen Stephanie Pearl-McPhee many times in photos, have read and loved much of her humorous and helpful writing. However…

I walked up to the information desk this morning and saw a woman standing alone behind the left side of the desk. I walked straight up to her, asked her for directions, said, \”Thank you,\” as she was very helpful, then walked away. Then I slowly thought that this woman really seemed to know the map of the place as she gave me the exact number of the booth I was looking for. Then I further realized that it was her–Stephanie Pearl-McPhee.

This would be similar to taking  a White House tour, running into a tall African-American man, and asking where the bathroom is.

If I see her again, I will be sure to thank her for this huge undertaking–humbly.

By the way, she is quite attractive and I think her photos never do her justice.

Well, what do we live for but to laugh at our neigbors and let them laugh at us in their turn? Mr. Bennet, Pride and Prejudice.

I have no doubt tomorrow will hold more adventure and I plan on sharing it will all of you.

Till then, get your cozy on, no matter what the temperature!

Here are a few fun pictures from outside the Convention Center.