Harder than Knitting

There are many things in life that are difficult.

But what is difficult for one person is perhaps easy for another, and vice-versa, a simple fact that I think was perhaps best expressed on Sesame Street many years ago.



For me, knitting has come fairly easily. I started less than two years ago, and in the interim I really haven't yet been stumped. Of course, I've had an amazing and very supportive group of knitters to lean upon for inspiration and advice, as well as an exceptional local yarn shop.

Since first announcing the Bitterroot shawl giveaway several weeks ago, I've received an amazing response. Amazing first because I seem to have touched a nerve - many others are apparently also troubled by the vast prairie-like expanse between Megan Fox's eyebrows and her hairline.

Amazing also because so many of the people who wrote in suggested that they were somehow intimidated to try a lace project. A few even said that they could "never" pull off so complicated a pattern.

This simply isn't true.

There is nothing particularly complicated about the Bitterroot. In fact it is a relatively simple and straightforward pattern. Like any pattern, you need to spend some time keeping track of where you are in it. And placing the beads can be a bit of a pain. But it certainly isn't difficult.

For me, choosing a winner of the giveaway has been much more difficult than actually knitting the shawl. First of all, there was the sheer number of entries. When I started this process I had no idea that I would get entries from so many people - let alone entries from people on other continents. The response was startling, and making a decision proved to be quite a challenge.

In the end, and with the assistance of a few close friends (none of whom had entered), I narrowed it down first to 25, then 10 and then 4 entries. At that point, I was on my own.

Finalist #1

From a mother and her three daughters, ages 7-12, I received the following entry:


We would like the shawl because we want to provide it a home where it will feel loved and appreciated. It is difficult to go through life knowing that you are unwanted, to be called 'ugly'. There are four females here who appreciate handknit items and would dote lovingly upon the poor little shawl. (We promise not to fight over it, much.) We are willing to open our hearts and home to the lovely piece of yarny goodness.

This initial submission was followed by a second message, promising to love the shawl and wear it to innumerable "dances, proms, weddings and balls for many years to come," along with the following haiku:


Three daughters and mom
lovely shawl from a stranger
longing for its warmth


This entry really spoke to me. By selecting Finalist #1, I'd have the chance to make four people happy. From a purely utilitarian standpoint, this entry should be the winner.


Finalist #2

From S.R., a knitter in Maryland, I received the following entry:


Sometimes hard to see
The beauty of what we make.
I'd kill for that shawl

Seriously, it is lovely. And yes, I'd wear it. I'd wear it like nobody's business! I am so tempted by shawl patterns but, at the same time, so intimidated.

This entry too captured my attention. I love haiku. People talk about how twitter is changing the world because we're now forced to communicate in 140 characters or less. But the haiku makes your average tweet look like War and Peace. Once you limit yourself to seventeen syllables, you're really forced to concentrate on your message. And with this entry the essential truth of the first two lines is irrefutable. Plus, the last line adds humor and humanity. This is one exceptional haiku. If the giveaway was judged solely on the basis of poetry, this would be very tough to beat - but then again so would a certain sonnet.

Finalist #3

From L.C., I received the following combination letter and poem:

There once was a straight male knitter
who would never be called a quitter
when he knit a wrap
that he thought was crap
his contest made me all a twitter

so I promised that I would take care
of the shawl that his wife wouldn't wear
we'd be cozy together
in all sorts of weather
while admirers notice and stare

Oh, how I wish I had your beautiful shawl at this very moment, sitting on my sofa, typing away with a big ol' fuzzy black blanket wrapped around my shoulders. I am cold. I tend to always be cold. However, my husband always tends to be hot. Guess who wins when the heat setting is chosen?

I want very much to win your shawl because I would love to be warm AND lovely, even when in my home. I would love to wrap it around my shoulders in the morning as I got everyone out the door for the day and wear it into the preschool when I drop off my son. I would love to wear it through the grocery store, as I wander into the dairy aisle and catch a chill from the open refrigerators. I would love to wear it out on the playground, where I sit with my "Mom Friends" while my son runs and climbs and plays with his friends. Imagine the envy from the other moms! I would have on a hand knit piece of art, and they would have on fleece vests from LL Bean! I would wear it home, to sit and knit in the playroom while my son built legos and waited for his brother to get home from school. I would wear it into my sons' swim practice where the humidity of the indoor pool makes me sweat inside my bulky sweaters - but not in a shawl draped elegantly across my back! I would love for my husband to come home and find me in my "so nerdy they are cool" reading glasses, sitting in the kitchen in my pretty shawl and not in one of my giant sweatshirts from college. "Hi honey! You look nice," he would say. And as soon as the babysitter arrived, we could jump in the car and head out to the movies - he in his jeans and button down shirt, and me in my jeans and "mom tee" and stunning shawl.

I love pink. What matches pink? Turquoise, brown and green!! The "neutral" shawl would match everything I own! The browns that match my hair and eyes, the lime green I buy so I don't always wear pink, the blues that remind me of my sister and her blue eyes (Maybe that's why I wear pink? 'Cause she got the pretty blue eyes?) The different shades of yarn in the shawl would keep it out and on my shoulders instead of hanging, lonely, in the back of my closet with the bright red scarf/wrap that matches nothing.

Oh, please, TSMK, pick me. I would give your shawl the happy, chilly home that it deserves!


This is a delightful poem. But more to the point, when I read the letter I find myself thinking it might have been written by Mrs. TSMK. She also hangs out at the park with her "Mom Friends". She too spends time sweating at the pool while our boys swim. And she has more than a passing familiarity with legos. Passing the shawl on to L.C. would be almost like giving it to Mrs. TSMK - except it would be a Mrs. TSMK who knits and likes this shawl.

Finalist #4

From Sandra, in Australia - the following entry:

Chemotherapy.
Much easier to bear when
wrapped in lovely lace.

Precious cloud of lace,
come live with me Down Under.
Blue sky, red earth, home.


Wow. I'm not often speechless, but this one did the trick. And it stuck with me. Within hours after receiving the entry I found I'd committed it to memory. Many entries made mention of current difficulties or recent challenges. But this one was different. The way the author weaves the difficulty of her circumstances with the desire for the object and the beautiful imagery of her home. Just brilliant. Plus, given my recent stance on all things breast-related, this really struck a chord.

And so I was left with a final four. I announce the recipient below. But first, an important announcement.



I'm going to give more things away.



As it turns out, giving away something you make is intensely enjoyable. And so, being somewhat of a hedonist, I intend to do it again. And again. In fact, I've decided to give away something hand-made every two months or so. I'll do it through the blog. So far, I'm not sure what I'll give away. But I have a penchant for knitting lace, so more lace shawls are fairly likely. If you have a particular favorite pattern that you'd like to see the subject of a future giveaway, shoot me an email at tsmkblog@yahoo.com and let me know. The format for the giveaways will likely vary from time to time, but I'll try to keep it interesting.





And now - the winner.

Thank you to all who submitted an entry.

Sandra in Australia, your entry haunts me - will you wear my shawl?



~TSMK

Shawl Giveaway Update 2.1 - "The Rebuttal"

Things are getting exciting!


From A.F., in rebuttal of the amazing sonnet posted days ago, comes this vaguely menacing entry:


A sonnet this ain't,
and I'm no Gaelic expert.
Hand over the shawl.

There are several other gems worth sharing. Here are just a few.

From a self-described "cougar" - H.R.:

The Straight Male Knitter created a beautiful shawl.
Its a hand-made, one-of-a-kind piece you can't buy in a mall.

He said the colors of the yarn made him want to barf.
But if you ask me it is a very good looking scarf.

I would wear it this spring when there is a little cold in the air,
and I'm sure as I pass all the people will stare.

In the ending of this poem, I have one simple request:
please consider me when choosing the winner of the contest.

From N.M. in The Netherlands:

To faraway lands
free Bitterroot will travel.
Postage will be paid.

and from J.B., who apologizes that she doesn't remember the rules for haiku:

The Straight Male Knitter once made a shawl,
but with the results he was less than enthralled.
The colors so pretty,
to me its not shitty,
its the most beautiful shawl of them all.

Keep those entries coming. There are only 13 days left until the decision.


~TSMK

Shawl Giveaway - Update 2.0

If the entries are any indication, there are quite a few folks (on three continents so far) who have an interest in roadkill stew. So much the better.

I write at this time to share another incredible entry in the giveaway. But first, I feel compelled to apologize.

All this time, I have felt concern for Renee Zellweger - thinking that she was perhaps a victim of unfortunate circumstances. But I was wrong.

You see, I occasionally put my foot not only in my mouth, but fully down my esophagus, through my stomach and into my duodenum. Apparently, my comment about R.Z. was such an example.

It wasn't the first time. Frankly, it probably wasn't even the most egregious example. No the most egregious example in recent memory involved an unfortunate incident with our former neighbors and a cheap bottle of scotch. Allow me to explain.

Some years ago, we had two very interesting neighbors in the TSMK cul-de-sac.

Note - by the "TSMK cul-de-sac" I'm speaking geographically and not anatomically. To my knowledge, not only do I not possess a Pouch of Douglas between my rectum and the back wall of my uterus, but I don't happen to have a uterus, and seriously doubt that if I did I would have two very interesting neighbors in the vicinity. No, indeed, I'm referring to the actual street upon which I and the entire TSMK clan happen to live.

With that minor issue cleared up, let me explain my gaffe. Our neighbors, Zeus and Hera [names changed to protect the odd, if not exactly innocent] were very strange, sweet people. For the first two years we knew them, I'm not sure I ever saw Zeus wearing a shirt. This in itself was unusual, given that Bainbridge Island is not exactly Ibiza. Meteorological issues aside, Zeus also resembled strongly resembled Christopher Lambert as Tarzan, Lord of the Apes. At least he would have resembled Tarzan if Tarzan had been covered in tattoos, with pierced nipples and a penchant for borrowing my table saw.

You see Zeus was remodeling his kitchen, and although he claimed to be a carpenter, he apparently didn't own any tools. And so he used mine. Often. And for long periods of time.

When Zeus and Hera [who, unfortunately did not resemble Andie MacDowell in her role as Miss Jane Porter - or any other role for that matter] finished remodeling their kitchen, they wanted to thank me for the use and significant dulling of my tools. In thanks, they graciously gave me a bottle of scotch.

That isn't exactly true. They gave Mrs. TSMK a bottle of scotch, and asked her to give it to me. I'm sure that she did tell me about the bottle. In fact, she probably showed me the bottle. But I'm afraid it just didn't register.

A few days later, Zeus and Hera came over to our house for dinner. Mrs. TSMK prepared a lovely meal, and we sat around the table trying to engage in polite conversation despite the fact that we had essentially nothing in common other than a similar street address. Thankfully, Zeus was wearing his shirt.

Trying to be the good host, I offered our guests some drinks. They accepted. This wasn't especially surprising, particularly with Zeus. In fact, Zeus had that very evening spent a good fifteen solid minutes contemplating the exposed gears of the bevel drive on the TSMK Ducati while expounding upon how cool it would be "on acid." Zeus was an accomplished user of all manner of mood-altering substances.

I left the table and went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of something. Reaching into the cabinet, my hand first met a very disappointing example. This was good, I thought, because I wouldn't necessarily need to share a bottle I prized. I quickly shut the cabinet, got some glasses, and made my way back to the table.

On my return, I immediately began apologizing. "This all I have" I said. "I wish I had something better," I said. "I didn't buy the good stuff the last time I was at the store," I said. "This stuff is awful," I said. All the while Zeus and Hera looked at me in stunned silence. Mrs. TSMK glared.

I'd tell the punch line, but of course you've already guessed. The bottle I was holding was the scotch they'd given me in thanks only a few days earlier. In my own defense, it was a very poor example of the breed.

Zeus never borrowed my tools again.

All of which leads me back to my most recent gaffe. One reader has been kind enough to point out that R.Z.'s facial features may be the result of her ancestry. Apparently she's of Sami descent, and that may explain the vast plateau between her eyes, although it does not necessarily explain her complete inability to act. And so I offer my apologies to R.Z. Or more specifically, to R.Z.'s mother with respect to any prior allusion to fetal alcohol syndrome. No hard feelings I hope.



That out of the way, let me share one of the more remarkable entries I've received in the giveaway: a sonnet from M.H in Massachusetts.

I saw a photo on a blogspot blog
That stopped my heart, it was so fair to see:
I shudder at the thought that one might frog
A shawl so delicate, so fine -- indeed so "me"!
I've heard about the knitter of this find
A man of class, who drinks of Islay's dew
Who cheers his fans with his discerning mind,
Who wears the kilt, and blows the bagpipes, too!
Dear sir, if a poor poet may request
A thing as worth as this grand confection
Such skillful use of Araucania's best
Would be the glory of my own collection!
Alas, my time to make my case has gone
And so, sir, "slainte mhath, is soraidh slan"!*



*Scottish Gaelic: "Good health, and farewell!"



The shawl is folded and ready for its new owner, and sits peacefully on the shelf of single malts in my office. Well, actually it sits with a bunch of single malts, a bit of port and a remarkable small batch bourbon. Keep the entries coming - the ides of March will be here before we know it.

~TSMK

Free Shawl Giveaway - Update

Ok, so the shawl giveaway started just two days ago, and I'm already getting some great responses. I wanted to share a couple:

From a very polite Canadian infidel:

The straight male knitter
does not like the ugly shawl.
I will love its warmth.



and from A.S.:

The lace confuses
and all the detail haunts me.
But the want remains.

Thank you both for your excellent entries and poems!

~TSMK

The eye of the beholder - free shawl

Some things are ugly. A pimple, for example. Or perhaps roadkill.

But even with roadkill there are afficianados. For you see, one man's roadkill is another man's stew.




Then there is the ill-fated Pontiac Aztek - occasionally referred to as one of the ugliest automobiles of all time. And yet there are those who found its versatility beautiful. After all, it isn't every car that can double as a tent.

So we see that even ugly things can, and often do, have an inner beauty. Or at least an inner utility.

Also, there can be no accounting for taste.




My own tastes are somewhat - what's the word - eclectic. As Mrs. TSMK will attest, I have no qualms about mixing the striped shirt with the paisley tie. More to her horror, I have recently begun to enjoy the freedom that is the Utilikilt. Just yesterday, in fact, it took all of her resolve to accompany me and our sons on a kilt and Birkenstock-clad jaunt to the local nursery to look at bonsai pots. Oh yes, the TSMK aesthetic is occasionally unusual.



All of which is my way of acknowledging an important fact - my tastes are my own. What I like, I recognize that others may not. And what I dislike . . . Well, put it this way, I happen to find Megan Fox's forehead disturbingly large and wonder whether Renee Zellweger may actually be an unfortunate sufferer of fetal alcohol syndrome. [That last theory might actually explain her acting as well.] Obviously, I'm out of touch with the aesthetics of the mainstream.


It is with that caveat that I share my most recently completed project. The pattern is Bitterroot, by Rosemary Hill. It is easy to follow, and as you can see from the pictures in the link, it can lead to a spectacular finished product.



Unless I knit it and decide to play around with the suggested type of yarn.















Rather than make it lacy and delicate, I decided to make it in a slightly heavier weight of yarn. In this case, I've used Araucania Ranco Multy - a sport weight wool/polyamide blend. I knit it on US #6 needles, and it worked quickly - about 15 days from cast on to bind off. It incorporates about 1.6 skeins (so about 600 yds) and 600+ beads.

I hate it.

That isn't really true. I don't hate the design. But I hate this pattern in this yarn. It is a bit like scotch and doughnuts. I like scotch, and I like doughnuts, but I don't think I'd much like a Laphroig-flavored crueller - of course I love dark-chocolate & bacon truffles, so I could be wrong.














I thought the colors in the yarn - with turquoise and brown and green, would remind me of the water, sand and dunes of the beach. I was wrong. I can't say exactly what they remind me of, but for me it isn't good. And Mrs. TSMK doesn't like it either.



But one of you might like it. Perhaps your own tastes lead you to think that it is beautiful. Alternatively, perhaps you're desperately in need of a shawl for warmth (it is very warm) and you're conveniently color-blind. Maybe you're the kind of person who likes to unravel yarn and you're in need of a project.


So I'm giving it away through the blog. But I can't just give it away, obviously. I'm a lawyer by day and so believe there must be some sort of rules/structure around this offer. With that said, here are the rules:


1. I will only give it to someone who wants it for his or her own. So don't ask for the shawl if you plan to regift.


2. To be given the shawl, you must promise to send me a picture of you wearing/using the shawl, and give me permission to post the photo on the blog. If you win the shawl but fail to send a photo, I reserve the right to subject you to public ridicule - perhaps in limmerick form (e.g., there once was a welcher named . . .)


3. This will not be a random drawing or some such nonsense. No, I want you to tell me why you want the shawl. I'll pick from the group based on those responses. Please note that your responses (without your name) may be posted on the blog. Please note also that I will give special consideration to the creativity of your response, and extra-special consideration to responses written in haiku.


That's basically it. If you want a chance to get the shawl, shoot me an email at tsmkblog@yahoo.com. I look forward to getting your responses, and will accept responses until the Ides of March - subject to extension in my sole, and admittedly arbitrary, discretion.


~TSMK