Pussy Hat

My Mom really reprsented for our family this winter as we embarked on the solidarity women's march in Madison, WI.  Over 100,000 people gathered to demonstrate their commitment to opposing the new administration.  She sewed pink pussy hats for all of us - and family friends.  Craftivism at its finest. 

As a knitter I did feel pulled to knit a hat, but was unable to find any pink yarn in Madison or online with enough time to actually knit one.  My yarn is on backorder and should arrive sometime in February.  I have a feeling that we'll be wearing pussy hats for a couple more years yet, so there's still plenty of time to knit one up!

Wrist Pain

I have been having a bit of wrist pain over the past few months - it got quite severe during one week in the winter so I really pulled back on the knitting, have been wearing a brace for typing and sleeping, and I am happy to say that there is progress.  Not too much pain anymore.  But I needed something to occupy me during my non-knitting times and I found two fun distractions.

The first is that I became a charter member of the Center for Knit and Crochet - an organization that is taking off right here in my own community!

The other is the book No Idle Hands which was given to my at Christmas by my Sister-in-Law.  What a great read!  I am not a historian, and some of the older passages take a bit of deciphering to fully understand, but I am loving learning about the history of knitting in the United States.  A great way to take a break from the actual knitting, but still feel connected to it.

I have started knitting again this spring in earnest and can feel the tension in my wrist from time-to-time.  The night brace is brilliant and helps a lot.  As does taking my knitting in moderation.  

WI Sheep and Wool Festival

I was lucky to get a day away this past weekend to attend the Wisconsin Sheep and Wool Festival.  I attended the festival last year and enjoyed myself.  A lot.  So this year I expanded on my festival experience by taking a class taught by the very talented Mo Brown (owner of The Cat and the Crow yarn shop in Mount Horeb, WI).

This was another dying class.  And while the basic process was the same as the other class I took in the summer, the techniques we used were very, very different.  This was specifically a sock yarn dying class, and we went from undyed, superwash wool, machine knit sock blanks to skeins of hand dyed yarn.

Some contrasts to the other class include: using syringes instead of brushes to apply the dye, using a microwave instead of steam heat to set the dye, and working with a knit fabric instead of loopy skeins of wool.

I am really happy with the two skeins I brought home - one is an experiment in gradation, going from dark purple to light and back to a dark red-purple again.

The other is (hopefully) full of long color repeats of blue, green, gray, black and orange.














I found the class very inspriational, and was quite taken by the approaches of the other students.  A few treated their sock blanks as canvasses, painting elaborate pictures on them.  What is amazing is that work become hidden once the yarn is wound, and then knit up into a project.  But the artists' intent remains: a secret wish, or hidden message, if you will.  Like a whisper, those 'paintings' were utttered and then will disappear into the wind.

I didn't make any elaborate paintings, but I did find myself fantasizing about hidden messages in a hand knit project.  Don't you think a yarn blank could (literally) be printed with messages about love, peace and joy and knit up into something beautiful?  What about including messages of social justice or protest?  Civil disobedeince as public art!  Craftivism!

I did some browsing after the class, but came home with only one kit - the Pippa and Poppy dresses by the talented ladies at Ewetopia.  They are absolutly adorable!  I've cast on for a first dress, with hopes of completing three more (one for each of my girls) by next spring.  

p.s.  I'm also in love with Ariana and Roaslind and might have to splurge in the new year.

Happy Halloween!



Gecko lizard, black dog, and black bat

This year I managed to sew something for one older girl and my middle girl.  My other older girl wanted to be a dog, again.

Making the lizard went really well.  At first I was brainstorming all sorts of ideas for attached scales, but when I pulled out the old pattern I used for the dog costumes there were directions for making a dragon/lizard too.  Away I went with pre-printed polyester fabric and gold accents.

The bat wings I made from scratch.  I wanted something small, sized just to her, and understated.  I didn't want to make her a long cape, or a hood, or something that would get her confused as batman, the character. 

Using black flannel, I traced the neckline of these capes, and then added a basic triangle (traced from a folded sheet of newspaper) with scalloped edges.  I added quilted lines on the wings, but you can't really see them and they don't actually make much of a difference in wearing.  I sewed one hair band at each of the wing tips so she could thread her hands through and she didn't have to grasp the fabric all the time.  This way they attached (and unattached!) to her easily - and became part of her arms as she flew around.

Overall this Halloween was a success for the handmade.  My youngest went as a gray kitten with a thrifted baby costume.  However, she has a whole wardrobe of mama-made costumes to look forward to in the years to come.

The girls ate their fill of candy tonight and are looking forward to the candy buy-back program this weekend.  In fact they already separated what they want to keep from what they want to sell back.  I am amazed to report that 90% of our candy will be sold back!

In Awe

I am writing this in awe of the amazing comments I received on my last post. What I thought were some general statements - random thoughts I needed to write down because they were present in my mind on that morning - turned out to resonate with so many of you. I appreciate all the support, encouragement, resources and additional thoughts you posted. It is a great conversation, one that I hope we can continue over time.

Almost immediately I went to the nytimes website and downloaded the femivore article. I read it with a fervor that I haven't read anything in a long time. Then I e-mailed it. To my husband. And I started talking about it. With everyone (well, every adult that is) I sat down with for more than 5 minutes. While being appropriately critical, the article also identified a growing movement - among women, mothers, feminists - that is supported by a unique and broad spectrum of people. I fancy that I am on that spectrum somewhere.

And I agree with all of you about choice. I also agree that in exercising choice I have to be careful to not trip over the trope of privilege.

Lastly, there is a statement about consumerism in all of this musing - I think Mary Frances pointed it out most succinctly. I started to feel this tension, as it relates to my knitting, around the beginning of the year. Maybe it was the constant shopping: for food, for the holidays, for three growing girls (and the serious lack of garage sales in Wisconsin in January), or maybe it was simply a recognition of all that I already have. But the decision to not buy yarn for a year has been a small exercise in acknowledging my own self-indulgent conspicuous consumption. The very act of buying, or not, is a part of this for me too.

Now, don't get me wrong. I shop the non-union grocery stores, I sporadically feed my kids non-organic frozen pizza and cheetos, and you will find me mindlessly pushing my cart through the aisles at Target. But we also have a CSA, thrive off our local thrift stores, and I often bake my own bread. So I think that each purchase has to be balanced between necessity, desire and value - whether that be struck in favor of what is the least stressful, the most enjoyable, the most community-focused, or the most economical is up to each of us. Again we return to choice.

I will return to knitting shortly, but wanted to write this post in appreciation of your comments and consideration. At the very least I'm really, really happy to know I am not alone in my thoughts. The photo is of my youngest daughters hand, stained red from picking strawberries yesterday. I imagine it is also my hand outstretched as a welcome to all of you.

The olden days, hand-me-downs, and some thoughts

This past weekend DH and I took a long day away. We did a similar trip last summer too - maybe this will be a tradition for us? This year we hit the road and went west, toward the (say it with me...) M-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i River.

We made many stops along the way, but our destination was Stonefield, a historic site dedicated to re-creating the agricultural life that dominated southwestern Wisconsin a century and a quarter ago. We mostly explored the rural farming village, wandering in and out of the blacksmith shop, the carpenter/undertaker shop, and the general store. Then, a small shop caught my fancy - the millinery. I loved stepping inside and seeing the fashion of yesteryear. Animal ethics aside, what I wouldn't give to wear a hat with a big feather sticking out the top!! And just check out those hat pins too. I loved looking at all the supplies in the shop, along with the homesteading staples found at the general store. For info. on the history of Clark's Mile End check here.







The following day a neighbor brought over a big box of hand-me-down clothes and inside was a lovely treasure - a hand knit sweater. I promptly asked my neighbor about the sweater, certain that it was in the box by mistake and she would surely want it back. But no, it was actually a hand-me-down to her from a friend and she said her friend didn't even recall where she picked it up.

The individual that made this sweater knew it would be worn by an active child and created it accordingly. The fit is snug, but not restrictive. The yarn is a washable wool. The buttons are securely fastened. Whoever made this also knew a thing or three about sweater construction - the seams and button bands are lovingly perfect. The design details and color are nice too; especially on my purple-loving girls.

Amazing that it should come to us on a cool, breezy summer day - the sweater was immediately worn and loved.





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Some slightly incoherent, dis-jointed, and not necessarily on-point thoughts:

I could wax and wane here about the history of art, the history of craft, the handmade and homesteading. However, I think that in even considering these ideas, and sharing photos, I am saying a lot about what I value from the past and what those actions/ideas/lessons hold for us in the current day.

I don't knit clothes for my family because I have to; because my husband will get frostbite if he doesn't have decent wool stockings. I do it because it brings me joy and a sense of fulfillment. The same holds true in our home for woodworking, gardening, sewing and preserving. So why do we do it? Because the process of doing...making, making do, mending, creating...ties us to the physical process, and resulting tangible goods, from our predecessors. When we make it brings forth their art, which so often doubled as a necessity, and places it centrally in our lives.

Do I live a less 'authentic' life then they did? I think you could make the case that is true. I don't always wear/eat/use the things I create, which means I have time to make things I don't necessarily need. I do these things - the things they needed to do to survive - as a hobby and artistic expression. But that doesn't mean that I honor or enjoy them any less. Indeed, our life is the fuller because of it.

I remember sitting at our dinner table when I was a teenager and my Dad saying things like, "This broccoli [or insert any number of other vegetables here] is from our garden!" I rolled my eyes, smiled awkwardly, totally embarrassed by my Dad's happiness. What I didn't know! How foolish I was! Much to his dismay, I am sure, I am repeating his phrase at our own dinner table now.

Admittedly my contributions are small in comparison but I still can say, "This salad mix is from our garden" and it fills me with a similar sense of joy (pride?). I hope our girls will be spared my teenage ignorance. I hope they will come to value the handmade and handgrown that surrounds them. I hope they will understand that our society didn't spring out of nothing, fully formed, fully wired. That we are who we are because of those that came, struggled, persevered, and created, before us.

And lest I forget to mention it, much of what I enjoy, specifically knitting, has traditionally been termed 'women's work.' The kind of work that for generations has been considered oppressive and isolating, either due to the shear physical labor, or by the hidden and subjugated nature of it, by my academic colleagues.

And as a feminist scholar how to I reconcile the apparent contradiction in what I study and what I enjoy doing? I know there is a new movement underfoot, you can look here, here and here, and I think I am a part of it. But my scholarship and my craft don't intersect on paper or in my pocketbook; I don't write about my craft, nor do I profit from it. But I do both. I write about gender diversity, equity and inclusion, and I knit.

Melissa has also written about feminism and aprons. You can read her thoughts here.