Practically perfect in every way!
But not really. I did fudge this project a little, but these newly made alpaca gloves are perfect in a practical sense.
I’ve had two balls of Eki Riva Casual alpaca 8ply lurking in my stash for… oh, quite a while now. Let’s make it… five months? Yeah, so I forgot about making myself some gloves. We had an unusually cold summer this year. And by unusually cold summer, I mean it’s just about been autumn since January. At least that’s how it feels to me. I get cold so easily!
Obviously five months ago my need for gloves wasn’t imperative because I put the project off for so long. But now as I can barely feel my fingers as I type, despite having the gas heater on and periodically warming my hands using the steaming mug of tea before me, my need for gloves has become oh-so-great. Which is useful, because I’ve made the gloves now. And I have the option of going to find them and put them on. An option which I wouldn’t've had if I hadn’t made them last week. So there you go.
Behold, a glove!
Here’s why they are so practical:
They are ribbed the whole way over the fingers and left open, cast off with Jeny’s suprisingly stretchy bind-off.
Which is rad, because then you can do this:
Hello! I spy me some fingers ready to type, knit, or just generally demonstrate their dexterity! Perfect! Actually, again, not really. In this photo I just did a loose knitted bind off, but I changed it afterwards. And feeling a little defeated, I couldn’t be bothered to take another photo. Sorry for letting you believe until now that I had boundless enthusiasm for my craft!
The reason I say I fudged these is because the thumb gusset on the second glove is a little (read: very) skewy. And it’s my fault entirely.
Settle into your chair, dear reader, for I will tell you why.
I went to see ‘The Woman in Black’, and I, thinking that I’m some kind of knitting deity, decided it would be a good, even great, idea to knit in the darkness of the cinema. Hollllllly moly! Boy, was constructing that thumb gusset hard! Not just hard: stupid. There was one really startling jump (it was a film of the horror/thriller variety) where I dropped a stitch. Not just any stitch, but one that originated from a m1 about five rows earlier. I guess it was a good thing because that meant it didn’t unravel past the point of the stitch’s creation. The infuriating thing about it was that even though I knew exactly how to re-m1 and fix the stitch, I couldn’t. Because it was almost pitch black. Damn.
My main issue with the film was that it was archetypical of the Gothic genre. Not because I dislike the Gothic genre, but because almost every scene was dingy or grey, or raining, or night time, or in a swampy marsh, or anywhere that its inhabitants don’t receive their proper daily dose of Vitamin D. I waited impatiently for scenes where the characters finally ventured into daylight where the brief glow of the cinema screen would aid me in picking up my dropped stitch. But to no avail. And I had to just stop, put the glove down very carefully, and relax.
I managed to fix it on the train on the way home, in proper light, in less than a minute.
Like I said, it was my own silly fault. I’ll probably do it again anyway.
In other news, I started my first square for Emily Wessel’s POP Blanket today. I was off work and sick in bed and wanted something exciting to do. I had heaps of Noro Kureyon left over from the Mothers’ Day tea cosy and wanted to use it up. Unfortunately, just as I got up to making the white border around my circle, I realised that the white Cascade 220 I’d planned to use wasn’t there. I’d moved it to my studio space for storage in anticipation of the fact I wouldn’t start a POP blanket for another few weeks. (I’d been trying to retrain myself from startingyet another blanket.) It did give me time to properly think about the border though, and now I’m considering using Morris Norway 10ply in white instead because it’s super cost effective and works well for homewares. So now all I’ve got is a derpy kind of circle waiting for a border until I’m well enough to go out and buy wool. I didn’t take a photo because it really does look a little bit pathetic on its lonesome.
As soon as I can, I will venture out, buy the wool, finish the border, and show you a photo.