Angling this Fishing Yarn

          Labor Day typically signals the unofficial end of summer.  But out here in the Washington D.C. metropolitan area, Labor Day weekend typically is hot and humid, steamy at best. But thanks to Hurricane Earl (who knew one could ever be grateful for a hurricane), the weather here this past weekend has been nothing short of beautiful.  So I fought the urge to spend the holiday weekend as I typically have done in the past -- at home, sometimes with a grill, sometimes with a crochet hook, but always getting the kids into a back-to-school frame of mind. This year, we made the two- hour drive to Maryland's Eastern Shore to visit old friends.
          N and S live on the Choptank River, where I thought it would be fun to fish off their brand new pier, which had not been inaugurated, not counting their curious orange tabby or their always curious Kerry Blue Terrier.  I also thought fishing might keep the girls from getting bored.  So as we headed east, I picked up a couple of simple (read cheap) rod and reels and a couple of hooks and lures.  We were all set.  I also brought my current crochet project with me, just in case.
          First, I taught the girls how to cast off (no, not knitting, this is a crochet blog).  For you non-anglers, casting simply is the act of throwing the fishing line out over the water using a flexible fishing rod and reel.  Vashti soon became quite adept at casting with her closed spin cast reel.  It took Lariat a bit longer because I had saddled her with an open-face spinning reel, but she also was casting with confidence.  Before you ask, no, no fish were harmed during this escapade.  In fact, no fish were even caught, although Lariat got two nibbles that ripped the hook off the line, and I got a heck of a pull that ripped the hook and bobber clean off the line.
          This is where this fish tale connects to crochet.  It soon became evident that I had made the mistake of buying reels with 8 pound test line - so thin you can bite it clean through with your teeth.  To add insult to injury, the reels were cheap.  I moved from Lariat then to Vashti to untangle their lines.  And just as with a tangled ball of yarn, my first urge was to tug and  attempt to unweave the knots.  But, thankfully, I remembered my previous forays into detangling yarn and stopped trying to outhink the tangles and twists.  
          That afternoon, as summer was singing her swan song, I sat patiently on the dock untangling fishing line. As the sun began to set, turning the water from a cold dirty blue to a shimmering orange, I donned my sweater and sat patiently on the dock untangling fishing line.  Eventually, it was to time to "cut bait."  The tangles won out. Weak filament plus cheap reel equals tangled line. You could say I got what I paid for.
          Although the fish proved as elusive as an untangled line, we did enjoy good weather, good food, and good friends.  I even came prepared for a bit of crochet and came away with this fishing yarn. 
          Wishing you all a wonderful Labor Day weekend.  

Commuting with Fiber

Source unknown.  Received this photo via e-mail several years ago.  The man knows how to make a statement! 

I'm a commuter.  I take the bus and then the Metrorail (i.e., a subway that runs a significant portion above ground).  My door-to-door commute runs about 45 minutes on average but somedays, due to weather or a sick passenger, it can drag on another 15 minutes.  I used to think I was one of the lucky ones until I read that local commuters in the metropolitan D.C. area spend an average of 33 minutes getting to work, nearly 8 minutes a day more than the national average, according to data released last September by the U.S. Census Bureau's American Community Survey.  But, despite a commute that is 12 minutes longer than the regional average, I am still better off than the more than 100,000 local workers who spend 90 minutes or more commuting to work.  Most of them do it behind the wheel of a car.  I do mine behind the head of a bus driver or train operator.

Despite the seemingly cranky mantle I wear when I finally arrive at the office, I secretly like my commute.  Commuting via public transit provides the most wonderful opportunities to read a book in peace (no constant interruptions for "Can we go . . . " or "What's for dinner?").  Commuting via public transit also allows long stretches of down (as in sitting) time during which I can take out my project bag and start hooking away.  Despite the relatively short commute time, I can rock out a hat in two days of commuting, a small neck scarf in a day.  Although I miss listening to the radio (Amy Goodman of Democracy Now! rocks) during my daily commute, I no longer enter the building already the stereotype of the harried government worker.  What shape I am when I leave the building is another story altogether.

Unfortunaltely, the needle arts are not as popular among the commuting set as reading the Washington Post (or its unfortunate little offspring, the Express that often is left on seats for others to enjoy), listening to the latest tunes with expensive I-Pods with cheap earphones that allow folks two rows away to "enjoy" the music as well, or simply staring off into space.  But every now and then, I run across a kindred soul who industriously spends this precious time indulging in these ancient arts, unknowingly keeping them alive for future generations.  Sometimes our eyes will meet and we smile a knowing smile, sort of like an invisible nod of acknowledgement.  If we are within talking distance, we politely, so as not to bore the other passengers, inquire about the project but it's a bit like talking in a secret code:

• "That's a lovely blanket you are crocheting/knitting" translates to "You go, Girl! I love public displays of fiber."
• "What yarn/pattern are you using" translates to "You are not alone.  There are a lot of us hiding in plain site."
• "Have you been to XXX local yarn store" translates to "There's a place where folks like us meet up. Perhaps you would like to join our secret society."

Then the train or bus stops and one of us departs for work or home.  Thus endeth the secret dialogue and we sadly pack up our yarn and hooks and prepare for what lies ahead on our desk or in our kitchen.

Perhaps my crankiness upon arriving at work is not a facade.

Size Matters ! ? ! ?

Source:  Flying Finger operates its YarnBus, a free shuttle from Manhattan to its store in Westchester, NY.  

Yarn, like so many other things (balls, underwear, people, crochet hooks, etc.) comes in a variety of sizes.  And with different proportions comes different labels - pool, tennis, baseball, basketball, small, medium, large, extra-large, thong, bikini, brief, boy short, short, tall, fat, thin, A, B, C, etc.  Endless labels for an endless assortment of the things that populate our universe.

As for yarn, its size, or weight, is determined by its thickness.  Yarns typically fall into six broadly-defined categories of weights:  (1) super fine or fingering or sock, (2) fine or sport, (3) light or DK, (4) medium or worsted, (5) bulky, and (6) super bulky.  There's also the  lace/cobweb/gossamer weight yarns that often are labeled 0.  Need visuals?  Cobweb (0) -- think of the über-skinny women whose gassamer-thin limbs would be swimming in a size 0 top.  Super-fine (1) -- think of the haughty, ahem, God's Gift, ladies for whose anorexic bodies haute-couture is designed.  Sport (2) -- think of all the athletic non-running, non-gymnasts, non ice-skating women out there who look as if they can lift a 5-lb weight.  DK (3) -- well, you get the point.

According to the Craft Yarn Council of America, specific weights of yarn should produce a somewhat predictable number of stitches when using a particular sized crochet hook or knitting needle.  The higher the yarn number, the heavier the yarn and the fewer stitches per inch you will get.  But these are just general guidelines.  As most crocheters and knitters have found, not all yarns of a certain weight are exactly the same.  Thus the importance of swatching.  There! I've done my part to encourage folks to take the time to make the dreaded but necessary swatch before embarking on projects where size (stitches that is) does matter. 

My personal preference for yarn is driven by the project on which I'm working.  Lately, I have have been working in lighter or finer yarns so that I can make garments with better drape. Crochet stitches produce a series of knots that produce bulkier stitches than knitting.  So, to make a garment (whether a sweater or a hat) with a soft drape, we need to use a bigger hook, but by doing so, we risk creating a something full of holes.  Works great on lace but wouldn't keep a slumbering bear warm on a bitter cold winter night.  In general, it would be better to keep using your handy dandy G, H, or I hook and drop down to a skinnier yarn like light/DK and fine/sport weight, although sock weight works wonders.  Last year, I made a scarf using a fingering weight washable wool and loved how it turned out.  Hats made of any weight yarn will keep your head warm, while I doubt women of a certain age (we know who we are) would be comfortable in a sweater hooked up in a super bulky yarn. 

Yet, I also like to quickly work up a hat or scarf, or even, sweater.  Pair a big hook with some big yarn, throw in a couple of hours and you've got a hat. A few more hours, a scarf is born.  From skinnier yarns can come supple, lightweight fabric does not grow the fabric as fast as bulkier yarns.  Slow and steady may win the race but sometimes you need the heady rush of producing something of substance quickly.

Does size matter?  Well, yes and no.  As with life in general, yarn size just depends on what you make of it.

Inspiration: What Crocheters Want in a Yarn Shop

 Source: Crochet Inspiration by Sasha Kagan, a stitch compendium.  Check out this review!

Last year, a new LYS opened less than a mile away from my house.  Count me among the lucky.  FiberSpace is an attractive little yarn shop tucked away in a little corner of Alexandria, focusing on moderate priced yarns (almost the entire line of Berroco), as well as some higher end fiber. The staff is friendly and knowledgeable, the store just this side of funky. I mean, what else can you say about a store that successfully pulls off a retro outerspace theme. But, what I think makes this shop so special is that it carries several yarns that help to sustain womens' cooperatives in developing countries.  Their social consciousness extends even further -- last weekend, they donated 20% of its yarn sales to OxFam to help with disaster support in Haiti. From two days of sales, this little store is sending almost $1800!

What I also love about this shop is that it does not eschew, or shun, crochet.  Nothing irks me more than walking into a yarn store to spend my hard-earned money and being made to feel like I am some hick from the mountains.  Okay, so I grew up in the Intermountain West but I am far from a hick.  Although far from being crochet-centric, FibreSpace wants to encourage more crocheters to see them as a resource.  Recently, the owner asked, what do crocheters want in a yarn shop?  I mentioned a few things:

• Crocheted project samples -- inspire us by showing how your beautiful yarn looks crocheted into a little garmet
  
• Crocheted yarn swatches -- it helps to see how a yarn will work up
• Good, attractive crochet books -- there are so many new ones out there
  
• Adequate crochet notions -- such as crochet hooks you can't find in Michael's or AC Moore
  

Bottom line, think about what attracts knitters and other fiber artists to your shop, your yarn, your classes, and then do the same for crocheters.  Inspiration is our muse too.

So this is the question I pose to you crocheters out there:  What do you want in a Yarn Shop?  Inquiring minds want to know.

Spiderman had his Aunt May. Harry Potter relunctantly was raised by Aunt Petunia. Dorothy yearned for her Auntie Em (can you just hear the Wicked Witch screaching Auntieeee Emmmmm in a mocking whine - sends shivers down my spine).

I'm watching a Lifetime movie, Saving Sarah Cain, about a newspaper columnist who becomes the legal guardian for her deceased sister's five Amish children. It reminds me of another Aunt-who-suddenly-becomes-Aunt Mommy movie, Raising Helen, about a woman who becomes the legal guardian for her deceased sister's three children. Sound familiar? This plot has been repeated countless number of times. In all, these aunts (hardly ever a single uncle) seem to be clueless characters in a Mission Impossible movie, trying to decide how to answer the question, your mission should you choose to accept it, although they act more like fish out of water, unsure. perhaps unaware of their unrealized dream of being a mother. Of course, once they realize this, then, magic of all magics, they get a man. God, I am tired of these movies.

So what has this post got to do with crochet? Nothing. It's just that I am a bit weary of stories about kids being given to an unqualified relative who has to be dragged kicking and screaming into a life-altering experience. There are so many flesh-and-blood women, and a few men no doubt, who have willingly opened their homes and hearts to their nieces and nephews for the simple reason that they are family and family takes care of family. No tricks, no guilt trips. And even though it may take a village to raise a child, it often is up to an aunt or grandmother or even an uncle to keep a family together. I just wish they would do movies about families who just happen to have an aunt with nieces and nephews and not make that relationship the premise for the plot.