rumored cellist

I've finally done it! I've found a cello teacher AND a cello, and lessons have commenced.

This is my teacher. His name is Ben. He's very nice. He says cello-playing should be fun - as in, "I know the piano accompaniments to some of the pieces I'll be teaching you, so we can play together; it'll be fun!" I'm all for that.

I suspect he has an IV of Advil concealed somewhere about his person to make the mistakes of beginners like me less of a headache and a strain on his ears.

This is my cello:

I've not named him or her yet, and I'm open to suggestions. He/she is very nice, too. We have a rental relationship at the moment, courtesy of the nice people at Gaile's Violin Shop in College Park. Should we still be together and getting along well in a year, I may look into adoption.

Did you know Charlie Chaplin played the cello? And he was a left-handed player at that. There's even a CD of some of his compositions. Lovely stuff.

letting go of lexapro

I'm suddenly writing a lot. It seems to be my means of coping with the withdrawal symptoms of getting off Lexapro. Sometimes, I think the panic is just pent-up energy, and even an unstrenuous action like typing or scribbling is enough to release it.

I've been outlining the Big Story Idea I mentioned a few posts ago. The story is coming forward in a little more organized fashion than I am used to, but that's okay with me. If I felt the story was too vague in its bigness and too hard to grasp all the pieces, I'd be inclined to let it simmer some more until we'd gotten to know each other a little better. I take it as a good sign that its path is fairly clear and seems to make sense so far.

I'm wondering if getting off Lexapro has helped me be more clear-headed and focused, which is why story-writing is easier this time around. I guess you don't realized how foggy-brained you are until, well, you aren't.

It's been a really hard thing to do to get off this stuff, and I'm appalled at the medical community's insistence that SSRIs are not addicting. Despite going through a sensible weaning process (one pill every other day for awhile, then every two days, then every three days, and so on), my body is really feeling it and grumbling at me, and that strikes me as a sign of addiction. The physical side effects are severe headaches, insomnia, and a feeling like someone switched out my herbal tea for a double-shot of espresso, and walls are starting to look really good for climbing. It's worse in the morning and in the evening. I'm distracted enough during the day that it all just swirls into a dull all-over ache.

There's a psychological component as well. The logic goes, "if I take this pill, I won't panic," which is comforting and more or less true. However, I don't like taking this pill because of all the side effects and because I've become too dependent on it. But if I stop taking it, what do I do about the panic attacks? Karen-the-acupuncturist has an herbal supplement that I could take (she calls it the "keep-it-together pill") that is less expensive (there isn't a generic version of Lexapro, so you can imagine what the co-pays are like) and doesn't have any side effects, other than helping you keep it together. She's also recommended fish oil and B vitamins. If I can transfer my faith to the supplements, I may get somewhere. I also need to evaluate finances and see about some EMDR therapy.

I think Tristan-the-cat is feeling sorry for me because he's taken to hanging around my head a lot lately. He likes to sleep above me on the pillow at night, or just behind me on the couch, and I'm getting a lot of the laying on of paws. They say that sometimes animals absorb and develop illness and disease to spare their humans from them. However, Tristan is still his calm and loving self, so I hope that's not what he's doing.

And for all this suffering, the weight better the hell start coming off once this stuff is completely out of my system. I'm not asking to be a size zero, but fitting comfortably back into a size eight would be most appreciated.

the wrong circulars

Heh, heh, no, I've not given up knitting. Although I can see why you all might think I would given the comments I got online and in person about my last blog post. I keep at it in spite of the crazies and the rudes (others have it worse than I do and keep knitting, so there's precedent). Besides, if I go too long without a stitching session, I get twitchy. It's not pretty.

To prove I'm still at it, I present another finished object:



This is your basic sleeveless top constructed with two panels, knit from medium-weight yarn in a pretty green color. It's more or less perfect. Except I look terrible in it. No idea why. I was on gauge, it fits well (a perfect fit actually), seams are fabulous, but for some reason, I just look...weird in it. All that work, and I can't wear the blasted thing.

To make myself feel better, I immediately cast on three other projects - two scarves and a shawl. I'm using fingering weight yarn for one of the scarves and the shawl, which is lighter than what I usually work with, but I'm a little tired of the thicker yarn, and it is summer...

I can't talk about one of the scarves yet because it's going to be a gift for someone.

I can talk about this one though:



I got the yarn for it at the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival. It's from Pucker Brush Farm, and it has no colorway name. The pattern is called Zig Zag, but the project is more affectionately known as the Amazing Technicolor Dream Scarf.

Here's the shawl:



It's ridiculously simple and easy on the brain. It's based on the shawl formula, which means you cast on a few stitches to start with (five in this case), and on right side rows, you increase one stitch at either end and on either side of the middle set of stitches, and it magically grows not only in length but also in width (you get a big triangle in the end).

And I'm knitting it on circulars. Yes, you read that right. Circulars. Me. Knitting with them. It started life on straight needles, but since straight needles only go up to about 14 inches in length, and shawls are much wider than that (unless you're a Smurf, I suppose), I had to transfer it to circular needles (40 inches long tip to tip) so I could keep working on it. I had to buy another circular needle, because the one I had wasn't the right diameter, and I didn't like working with it before anyway (the cable between the needles felt overly stiff, which made knitting awkward). Lots of people rave about Addi Turbos, they're a step up from the one I had, and the name is funny, as is their slogan: "knit faster," so I got one, and I like it much better. The cable is more flexible, and I like the smoothness of the needles, which means less drag on the yarn while knitting. Moral of the story: using the right circulars makes all the difference.

I got the yarn for this shawl from etsy.com. It's actually two strands of two different yarns held together - one is a semi-solid dark green, and the other is a more varigated color combination called Old Rose that has a similar green in it. So far, I like how they're mixing together. I just hope I have enough of each to make this into a decent-sized shawl.

I love buying yarn from etsy. There's a large contingent of indie dyers and spinners on there who are doing amazing things with fiber and deserve to be supported. And they're all so nice - they've sent my orders promptly, offered to wind the yarn into center-pull balls so I don't have to do it, and included extra free goodies like handmade stitch markers, lavender sachets (lavender is apparently a natural, and more pleasant-smelling, moth repellent), and even extra skeins of yarn. I allowed myself a little fiber shopping over my birthday weekend vacation (in the fiber world, it is an accepted fact that yarn bought while on holiday doesn't count as part of one's stash, especially if one has set aside a large pile of yarn for the next fiber swap anyway), so etsy was the place to do it.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm suddenly in the mood to watch some Wallace and Gromit. They have a new film out - it makes me hungry for toast.

knit sins

*** rant alert; you have been warned***

Lately, I've noticed how much snobbery and meanness there is even in something as seemingly gentle and innocuous as knitting. This worries me.

This blog entry was appalling. I get that people were irritated/disappointed that they had trouble signing up for this event, but to threaten harm to the organizers is unnecessary, especially considering the obstacles put in front of them and their efforts to overcome and accommodate as best they could. As one lady in my knitting group said, "What is wrong with those people? It's just knitting!"

Then there were the thefts at the Maryland Sheep and Wool festival last year, as well as more recent ones at yarn stores. Stealing yarn? Seriously? It's amazing what people in the modern day get so obsessive about that they. must. have. it. at all costs, even if it means stealing it. There is bad karma attached to that yarn now. I hope there are lots of knots in it and it gets eaten by moths and never looks good no matter what project it's in.

I've also had encounters where people see me knitting out in public and come up to me and tell me that they knit too and that I'm doing it wrong or not using the right tools. Examples:

• "Why are you knitting English style? (working yarn held in right hand) You really should knit Continental style (working yarn held in left hand). And hold your needles like pencils while you're at it; it looks nicer."


• "You're purling? No one purls anymore. Learn to knit backwards!"


• "It's really not the thing these days to use straight needles, especially those cheap metal ones. Get a complete set of circulars. Seamed garments are so amateur looking."


• "Real knitters don't use synthetic yarn." (in response to my mention about receiving a box of my late grandmother's yarn stash)

No wonder knitting went underground for so many years.

Let's address these comments, shall we?

• The most accomplished knitter I know knits English style. When I say accomplished, I mean she has Done It All. She has knit just about every type of object there is to knit. She has tried every technique. She finishes at least one project a week. She designs her own patterns. She has encyclopedic knowledge of knitting - she is the knitting version of Google (Knoogle? Knittle?). I have yet to meet a better or more respected knitter, and she knits English style.


• You cannot get away from purling. You can't do seed stitch or moss stitch without purling. It is a fact of the knitting life, just like tinking and frogging. Get used to it. And doesn't anyone else see the whole "purl on the wrong side rows" as a nice little break in a knitting pattern?


• I'll have you know those cheap metal needles belonged to my grandmother. They were all she could get, and they have sentimental value. I've used circulars. I see their benefit. And yet, there's something about using my rosewood straights that just cheers me up. It's something about the way they feel in my hands.


• You try telling a sleep-deprived/time-to-herself-deprived mother of a newborn that she has to handwash and re-block everything you knit for her little bundle of joy and let me know how many seconds pass before she decks you. Natural fibers are all well and beautiful, but acrylic yarn is sturdy and machine washable and dryable. And again, it was all my grandmother could get, and she made some beautiful things with it.
  

The most recent issue of Knitty has come out, and I think my summer challenge project will be Franklin's lace sampler. I e-mailed him to ask if it was okay to use something other than white yarn for lace knitting - I can almost anticipate that someone will see me working on this project and declare that knitting lace in anything other than white yarn is grounds for eternal damnation in hell. However, he e-mailed back and said whatever color I wanted to use was fine. So sayeth the sage, so it shall be thankyouverymuch.

I didn't get back into knitting because I needed validation by others - I was a solitary knitter for years and quite content with it. I don't knit in an efficient manner because I don't bloody care how long it takes to finish a project - the act of knitting itself gives me more pleasure than racking up finished objects. I don't knit because I must have the latest popular item - while I admire the look of the clapotis, the desire to make one seems to have skirted around me. I don't have the money for the haute couture of knitting supplies - as long as as what I'm using is right for the project and feel good in my hands, I'm happy.

I knit because it's an easier form of meditation for me than sitting zazen and helps me not be so panicky and irritable (or as it has been more famously put, "I knit so I don't kill people"). I knit because my grandmothers and great grandmothers did (and they had some seriously mad skills). I knit because it's fun to talk yarn with my mom (who is a born-again crocheter and is the only person I know who can pair fluorescent-colored yarn with dark blue yarn in a blanket and make it look good). I knit because it's fascinating to watch one superlong strand of yarn get formed into an object. I knit because I have met many other Nice Knitters that I enjoy stitching and bitching with (and for an introvert like me, this is a big deal).

If you're going to be snobby and mean about knitting, you don't want to be associated with me. In fact, stay the hell away from me and my yarn. You're the reason I have to knit in the first place.

***end rant***