One down....

Katren done.

Two to go....

Speaking of a Steep Learning Curve....

Miss Rose in her Katren. One sleeve to go.

I have most certainly bit off more than I can chew for this next couple of weeks.

I also believe myself to be completely addicted to test knitting for other designers.

This past week, I was cruising along on a test knit for a talented gal from Australia, Whirlsie. I was having a fabulous time with her emerging pattern, Katren, which I am knitting for Amy Rose. It is a shrug style cardigan with cabled hearts down the sleeves. It's cute, not too hard and a perfect way for someone wanting to try out cables beyond just crossing a couple of stitches every once in a while in a straight line. Okay, this pattern also crosses a couple of stitches every once in a while, but they make a picture, which I think is pretty cool.

The yarn I am using for the sweater is Debbie Bliss Eco Baby in a very pale, dusty pink. I think it is working out to look sort of shabby chic and old fashioned at the same time. I think a photo shoot with ballet slippers and a wood floor will be in order tomorrow night, which is when I think this one will be blocked and dried, provided I can finish today.

Sometimes it is good to push yourself to do more than you think you can and I may have done just that. My friend, Gabrielle, the neverbeforeseen designer friend to my extreme NE in Montreal,

came out with a couple of patterns while I was working on Katren. The first one came out, and I thought, hey, I'm getting a bit faster....I can do one more. I felt really cool like maybe I could be like some of those speed knitters on Ravelry, whipping up socks in a day...or less. There was light at the end of my tunnel.

The second Gabrielle pattern came out and I loved it so much better than the first one. I just had to have it for Miss Rose. Just HAD to!! I won't spoil the surprise and give you details about those last two...also if I tell you I won't have another blog post for a couple of days. (There. The honesty just feels better.)

So I committed to doing both of Gabrielle's patterns, which have the same deadline: May 24th.

Today, on my day off, you might say why are you blogging about it instead of knitting?!

Call me a glutton for punishment. And anyway, I don't want one knitting project, I want all of them. (...she whined like Veruca Salt...)

Wish me luck. Or secretly shake your head at my ridiculousness. It's okay. I can handle that too. I think.

Why I Love The Doctor, by Janelle Serio

50 years of wonder

"Hello everyone and thank you all for being here today!" Said the woman at the front of the theater wearing the Tom Baker scarf and hat. She also had on high, brown leather boots over very fitted taupe- colored pants. The whole ensemble brought to mind Indiana Jones and an English riding competition all at once. She was standing at the front of Kiggins Theater in Vancouver, Washington, USA on November 23, 2013 facing a room full of 350 Whovians, seated and waiting to view the Dr. Who 50th Anniversary episode as one gigantic Whovian Fandom. The show was to be simulcast all over the world at exactly the same time. The room was quivering with anticipation and everyone was silent, wishing to savor every moment the day could bring. We all watched the Tom Bakeresque announcer.

Out coveted tickets
meant poster, mugs
and awesomeness!

The woman continued, "You could have done so many other things this morning instead of lining up this morning at 7a.m. outside of this theater. You could be home with your kids watching t.v. or attending a soccer game, or eating breakfast in your  warm home. But you didn't. You dressed up your kids and yourselves in all sorts of crazy Whovian costumes and you came here today to wait in line in the freezing cold. You chose whimsy. You chose fantasy and creativity. And we support you! This is a place you can be as crazy as you want. You can come here and feel free to fly your freak flag!" The room, full of cosplay adults and kids alike, erupted spontaneously, as if everyone was waiting to here this, into clapping and cheering and whistling.

"But why are you here?" The room collectively smiled. "You are here for the love of the doctor, who stands for so many good things in the world. The Doctor stands for anti-violence and anti-bullying. He stands for speaking up for those who cannot speak and protecting those who need protection. He stands for self-sacrifice and helping." This very moment, as the room erupted again in enthusiastic agreement, I realized why I have come to love The Doctor character so very much.

We waited outside in 27degree weather for 2 hours!

He is a super-hero for the underdogs and the bullied. For those who are taken advantage of or exploited. The Kiggins announcer was right, and I had never even seen it. I, who like so many others (probably many of whom were in that very room with me) was bullied and sometimes even terrorized as a child by others, loved this icon for so many reasons that I never even knew until that moment.  I began, surprisingly, to tear up.

These were the reasons that my knitting silently falls into my lap when the show comes on and I am not even aware that my mouth is gaping in a smile as I stare at the storylines, idle hands on my knees, my coffee getting cold next to me on the table.

Inside was a tea party, complete with cake, fruit trays
and mimosas. This lady was dressed up in steam punk
garb, but I think she looks like River Song. "Hello, Sweetie!"

The Doctor not only saves others, he empowers them. He sees the special qualities and the hidden braveries in every day people. And he might show up anywhere, anytime and in any time, to take away the next protege, the one who needs encouragement or escape or a better life. And without fail, these people--these unlikely heroes--rise to any occasion in every situation, surprising even themselves in becoming people they never knew they could be. It reminds us--or tells us for the first time--to rise, to be more, no matter what others have told us or what naysayers may say. You can always be better than your circumstances seem to allow.

Dr. Who is not the typical sci-fi show, which are often based around military themes like Battle Star, Star Trek, or Star Wars and many others. No. Dr. Who is for those who always hoped they could be more. For those who feel that they can and should be able to contribute something to the common good, and it makes it all seem so possible.

My first real try at color work. I was motivated.

And you never know. He might be coming for you.

Tons of families were there, decked out
in costumes. The Girl Who Waited,
 Amy Pond, is standing with the suitcase.

My daughter Annie and friend Iris both are David Tennant!

3-D!

I took a pic of this man in the dark theater! He won for best costume.
He told me his wife crocheted his "Ood" costume. Now that's love!

This line wrapped around the block

I knitted myself a Tam of Rassilon, free pattern found on Ravelry. The seal of Rasillon is a Gallifreyan
government seal and can be seen on the clothes of some of the characters in the war room scenes. Rassilon is
played by Timothy Dalton, former 007.

If you don't know what "Bad Wolf" means, I can't help you. Watch the show. Then you won't miss "Bad Wolf Day."

Me and Tina (Dr Who BUD!!) are fanatics for sure. I love my Van Gogh
Skirt and top!

Fez's are a Dr Who fav.

Never Give Up. Never Surrender.

Ever hear of this thing to the left? This is The Conscious Competence Learning Model. If you have ever worked with learners of any sort, you probably have heard of it.

I heard it first in college. In dental hygiene programs, this is one of the ways they explain to you how to process your feelings of frustration and anxiety while learning how to safely use very small--and very sharp--blades safely on very delicate oral tissues. And usually the first ones to experience your budding skills were your friends and classmates. This concept also applied to shaky, first-timer hands using long syringes loaded with anesthetic. Friends first!

Pretty nerve wracking.

What does this have to do with knitting? Everything.

Galaxy Quest had it right.

Knitting, along with any other skill you may be interested in trying and mastering, falls just fine into these learning stages.

Ever take a knitting class? Ever see that person in the room who just doesn't seem to "get it?" They huff and puff and get annoyed or irritated and sometimes they may even blame the instructor or their yarn or their needles for what they perceive to be "failure"...all in an effort to explain why they believe they "cannot" learn the skill they came to learn. Is it true they cannot perform the new skill? NO. In the vast majority of cases, YES, they can learn the skill. 


Think back to a time when you learned a skill. Riding a bike is a good place to start. Hardly anyone learned to ride a bike the first day they tried it. No. People often start with a trike, then a small bike with training wheels. At some point the training wheels come off and your dad helps you wobble crazily down the road while bending over awkwardly and trying desperately to hold on to the back of your seat.

You eventually fall down. Maybe you don't want to get back on that day. Or a few days. Or weeks. But you eventually get back on. Through trial and error, skinned knees or elbows, maybe even some social pressure from friends who are younger than you who are already proficient  in the mystical ways of bike riding (that was me, by the way), you get back on the bike again and again...and again...until you are riding like it's nothing. You no longer have to think about it so hard or at all. Soon, you no longer really consciously remember that you couldn't do it before because it has become so natural.

I took a Double Knitting class and it required a LOT of
concentration!! (And ripping out)

Why did you ride the bike? Because you were ashamed in front of your friends? That is only one of many possible motivators. You rode the bike because you allowed yourself to go ALL the way through the stages of learning.

And you didn't even know it.

I like how this particular website explains this model for the stages of learning:

1. Unconscious Incompetence—We don't know what we don't know. The learner is unaware of his or her knowledge gap, misunderstanding, or lack of a particular skill.
2. Conscious Incompetence—We become aware of our limitations and begin to learn. The learner now realizes the importance of a skill but fails in trying to apply that skill.
3. Conscious Competence—We perform competently when we deliberately focus our attention on the task at hand. The learner, through practice, can now apply the skill but has to think about each step.
4. Unconscious Competence—We naturally perform excellently, the skill becomes second nature. The learner can apply this skill effortlessly without conscious thought. The learner has mastered the skill as a result of many hours of practice.

I committed to learning on my own, so I tried a new and
sort of frustrating pattern on my own at home.

Sometimes we don't want to go through the stages--it is uncomfortable and sometimes embarrassing, especially if we feel others are "passing" us. Heck, read some of the above stage descriptions. Looks uncomfortable. And it is. We don't like some of the feelings associated with the learning experience. We want to skip right ahead to total success.

Something I learned going through the process of learning how to perform the delicate and sometimes admittedly difficult task of skillfully and knowledgeably cleaning (especially what some may know as "deep cleaning") teeth is that it is okay to be a beginnner and a learner. (I had a prof who repeatedly said to us frustrated students, "Calm down! You're leeeaarrrrnnningggg..." she'd drag the word out for emphasis and fluidly wave her hand sweepingly across the room) And no matter that it may take some of us longer to get to the end than others. We can get there.

My college experience, along with the fact the dental hygiene programs are very competitive and limited entry, gave me new insight and self-confidence. It opened my eyes to the fact that if I choose to go through the process, I can do many things. No, it is true, not every thing, but many things.

And I choose knitting as one of the things I am willing to work through.

Knitting is one of those endless worlds where everything unfolds farther and farther away from you as you go. You master the knit stitch, then there's the purl. You get that one down and here come increases and decreases.... and how many types! Before you know it, people around you are using words like seaming, then cabling and lace and double-knitting and *gasp* steeking. And don't even talk about understanding which fiber to use for what purpose.

Coffee pattern I downloaded

I quit knitting almost as soon as I started learning at 8 years old. While I now know why that happened, I still sometimes personally feel like I started knitting too late in life: there will now not be enough years in my life to accomplish everything I want to learn. That's just the nature of it. (Of course, I meet lots of knitters now and they all say that same thing, even if they have been knitting 40 years. I don't think that makes me feel better, exactly, but it is a fact of the skill.)

I have been knitting for 5 years now at 44 years old, and I know I have only scratched the surface. And I see that I go through the learning process, not only as one "big thing" for all of knitting, but every single time for every single new skill learned. I have resigned myself to the fact that each step will be frustrating and hard but I will make it through the steps.

There was a girl in one of my more challenging classes in high school. I noticed that every day she would stay after class for a minute and clarify assignments with the teacher, and clear up any misunderstandings she felt she had during the class. She was never afraid to ask questions. No one else did that, including me. Even if I understood all the concepts and ideas in the class better than she did, and she seemed to struggle, she still did better than I did in class. Why? She was okay with the feeling of being a "llleeaaarrrnnnerrrrrr...." I was not.

Why am I on this soapbox?  I don't want the frustrated knitter in the class to quit. I want people to know that they can succeed, even if it takes a little more time and frustration in payment. So get used to those initial feelings. Embrace the ripping back and ripping out. Pour yourself a glass of wine or cup of coffee and walk away for a moment, but not forever.

To anyone who ever felt like throwing down you needles: at least you are not stabbing them into your friend's delicate oral tissues and hoping you will still be friends after the ordeal is over.

Try again. It will be worth it.

How About Some Sewing for a Change?

Me, Annie and Amy in the back yard
2014

When I was growing up, Easter meant getting a brand, spanking-new dress, handmade, from my Grandma Miller. It was a highlight of the year for me. She would not only make a dress for me, but one for my mother and one for herself as well. They were always spectacular.

My mother and I would get up Easter Sunday morning and dress to the nines. On that day, I was allowed to wear nylons (instead of tights, as a young girl) and a grown-up style slip, usually on loan from my grandmother. My hair, done the night before, was carefully arranged by my mother, who would be wearing her red "dressing up" lipstick and her very coiffed wig du jour.

I would step with my family out into the sunlight of the morning in new white leather shoes--sometimes patent leather for extra shine--and head to church to meet my grandma. When all of us women gathered outside the baptist church on those mornings (for I was a woman on all Easters), my mother and dad would pull out carefully transported corsages from the car and remove them from their plastic containers.

My mom or dad helped me to carefully pin the flower onto my dress, so as not to squish the fragile petals of the orchids or lilies. And I, who rarely felt beautiful as a child, felt glorious, if only for that day in the entire year.

Annie has searched high and low
to find a Peter Pan collar!

I want my daughters to have that experience at least a few, if not most, Easters.

This year, I sewed dresses for Easter.

Annie chose an old fashioned, vintage style from around the 40's or 50's and Amy Rose received a special dress, pattern designed by my friend Jona Giammalva (sewist and designer extraordinaire). Amy Rose's dress has the last remnant of ric-rac from Grandma Miller's original stash. She also happens to have some vintage thread on there (magenta and right off the wooden spool), along with some Daisy Kingdom fabric I purchased from the downtown Portland store as they were going out of business several years ago.

Annie's dress has her favorite: a Peter Pan collar.

Both girls loved the dresses. Annie even wore hers the very next day to school (with Doc Martins, ala Molly Ringwald era style)  and Amy nearly slept in hers that night.

I loved watching them feel beautiful. And I knew Grandma Miller was smiling...even without the corsages.