Most people think that the wrath of Mother Nature caused the
storm that clobbered the Northeast, but I know that the knitting gods had at
least a small part to do with it.
After proclaiming that Laela would be an FO, I sat down on Thursday
evening, just as we started to get some serious snow and wind, to finish the
few inches of ribbing around the neck.
We had already lost our TV signal because of the wet snow that
accumulated on our satellite dish, but our Tivo’ed shows kept us entertained
for a couple of hours. Our
Internet connection also disappeared, so there would be no blog reading or
visits to Ravelry. Ok, I’d do that
on Friday. I intended to fire up an
an audiobook and knit Laela’s neck.
I even pondered whether I should graft the underarms at night or wait
for daylight. And as I was weighing the pros and cons of grafting dark brown yarn, our power went out
completely—at about 8 PM.
What is even more ironic is that we bought a snowblower in
the fall, and the snows we had so far weren’t really enough to warrant pulling
it out of the garage and plugging it in (yes, we decided that an electric
snowblower would be sufficient for our small driveway). On Thursday afternoon, Ed and I made
short work of the few inches that had accumulated, and I was very sure that
digging out would be easy. Note to
self: Electric snowblowers don’t work during power outages.
The plunge into darkness on Thursday night was an unpleasant
surprise for our birds. Addi was out of the cage at the time and began to fly around
skittishly. But Will and I rescued
her using flashlights, and put the cover on the cage so the birds could go to sleep. And after about an hour of
trying to read by flashlight, I decided to go to sleep also. A minor inconvenience, I thought, but
we have natural gas for heating and cooking so we could just wait. At some point in the middle of the
night, I woke up freezing and saw that the thermostat read 57°. Well, although our heating uses natural
gas, the thermostats that control the room temperature are electric. The cold is bad for the birds,
who really should have temperatures closer to 70°. The only thing I could think of to keep
them warm was to put soup kettles of water on the stove (I can use matches to
light the burners) and keep them boiling.
That is what we did for all of Friday, and during the day we got the heat up to 64°.
So Friday was spent listening to the portable radio report
of the 999,999 other families without power from Pennsylvania to Maine,
shoveling what for us was a mere 18 inches of snow, and adjusting to life
without heat, TV, or lights. Here’s
what I woke up to:
It continued to snow all day Friday and into Saturday.
For the evening’s entertainment, Will trashed me in Scrabble
(now that he is ranked 44th in North America this wasn’t much of a
surprise) and even trouncing me in Sorry!
It clearly wasn’t my lucky day (and it was my birthday too).
In order to keep the birds from getting even colder (and
poor Larry Bird’s feet were freezing when the indoor temperature dropped into
the 50s), we kept the pots of boiling water going all night, with each of us
taking turns watching the stove (actually reading by flashlight or listening to
iPods). The temperature still
dropped to 61°. My
turn came at 3 AM on Saturday, and I made it through the backlog of Knit Picks
podcasts—until about 5 AM when the power returned and the heat came on
again. We are clearly a lot better
off than many in our area—some of whom aren’t expected to have power restored
until Tuesday. The birds were
clearly freaked out by the ordeal, particularly because they were locked in the
cage all day (as is always the case when we’re cooking) and covered up for
about 11 hours, from sunset Friday to sunrise on Saturday. But life has returned to normal.
The pause in my frenzy to finish Laela gave me the chance to
reconsider the bind off, and instead of the standard method, I decided to work
the tubular bindoff on 1x1 rib.
This is demonstrated clearly in Lucy Neatby’s Finesse Your Knitting, DVD
1, but she shows it for flat knitting.
The set up rows for flat knitting have you slip the knits on the first
row, turn and slip the knits on the second row. I had a hunch that I’d slip the knits for one round and slip the purls on the next, but to
check, I turned to Wendy’s Toe Up Sock book. She confirmed that hunch, and handled the tubular bindoff a
bit differently—using four setup rows and dividing the stitches onto two
needles. I decided to use a hybrid
method: two setup rows and dividing the rows on two needles.
This still took me forever (well, an hour and a half) to do,
with much cursing. I am truly a
dunce when it comes to grafting, which is essentially what the tubular bindoff
is. But I persevered and got the
neck I hoped for:
This is nice and stretchy, yet it holds its shape. I finally got to try Laela on, and I am
positively delighted with it. The
fit is perfect, and I can use it for measuring similarly shaped sweaters (raglan, saddle shoulder,
and EZ’s hybrid shoulder).
But I’m not quite ready for a modeling shot. All these ends need weaving in
and I’ve got to block it. But snow is predicted again for Wednesday, and the weather
isn’t warming up that fast. This
might turn out to be the most practical sweater I’ve knitted for a long time.