Work in Progress: Khair-ish

The "something new" mentioned briefly at the end of my last post is a modified version of Khair.  For some reason--perhaps because of the way the scarf is arranged in the photographs in the pattern description--I thought that the pattern was asymmetrical, with a cable on only one side of the scarf.  However, the pattern as written is symmetrical, with a large panel of a repeating stitch in the middle, and a cable flanked by another pretty stitch on each edge of the scarf.

There's nothing wrong with the pattern as written, but when I found that my first attempt at an unmodified Khair was too tight on the suggested 4.0 mm needle, I decided to rip back, size up my needle to a 4.5 and switch things up to match the asymmetric scarf I had stuck in my head.

I'm now working three cables on one side, with the centre panel of stitching from the original pattern on the other side, making for a roughly 1/3 and 2/3 split.

It's not that I didn't like the pattern--I still think it's very pretty--but I do like it better this way.  Also, one of the stitches called for in the pattern involves purling three stitches together, and I wasn't a big fan working this on the back side, so I adapted the stitch to a k3tog thing to be worked from the front.  It's close enough to the right look, and sooooo much easier to knit.

Knitter in the dark?

The biggest challenge to this pattern has definitely been the yarn itself.  I love the Cascade 220 Sport--it isn't super-soft but it's appealingly springy and sturdy, and the stitch definition is good--but knitting with navy blue yarn in the darkest months of the year in a cabin that's generally ill-lit requires a little creativity.

I have been meaning to make a lampshade for this thing for ages, but mostly it just gets pulled out whenever I need extra illumination for animating or whatever.  I was too lazy to figure out how to hang it from the ceiling, so I slung it over the bookshelf instead.

It's being propped away from the wall with an old Dawson City Music Fest program, and held in place with a trashy romance novel I bought at the Salvation Army in Homer, AK (which is about all that book is good for).  Not exactly home decorating at its finest--and it's certainly not doing any favours to my art collection--but it is keeping me from going blind.

Winterizing

It snowed for the first time on October 16th this year.  And today--only November 3rd!--it is -26°C out!

I have been slowly getting ready for winter over the past few weeks: got the car checked out, shrink-wrapped the windows, put away my summer-only clothes, brought the parka out of storage, and so on.  I also knit a new hat:

The stitch pattern is from some ancient knitting booklet that lost its cover before the internet was invented, and I just free-styled the rest of it.  It didn't turn out quite the way I had envisioned it, but nevertheless it looks lovely and is very comfortable and warm.  The yarn is Purple Label Cashmere Sock Yarn from Tanis Fiber Arts in the Royal Flush colourway.  I love Tanis Fiber Arts yarns;  I have ordered from her a few times (see the previously completed Swimming Pool) and have yet to be disappointed.

Despite the slow progression of preparation for winter, the fact that the ground is covered in snow, and that it is so cold out, is somehow shocking.  This is my third winter up here, so you'd think I would know what I am getting into.  Perhaps there is a difference between being physically prepared, and being mentally prepared.  Although wouldn't accomplishing one simply lead to the other?

Clearly the answer is that I need to be knitting more.

Post-Scipt:

I have to add: it is now 1:23 pm, and only just now has the sun risen above the hillside to cast direct sunlight on my cabin.  Daylight hours are so short already!

Solstices

I don't want to say that I'm over the whole 24 hour daylight thing, but this year I went to bed at 11pm on the 21st.  I've done the stay-up-all-night thing before, and just didn't feel the need this year.  It was a crazy week, with work, meetings and multiplying commitments all making me feel tired and old.  A good night's sleep--as good as I could get, considering just how bright it is in this cabin with its thin curtains--was more valuable.  I did snap a picture from my "desk" (the sewing machine table with my laptop on it) as I sat up reading resumes on Wednesday night.  At 11:04 pm, there was still bright sunshine out:

And yeah... the window doesn't stay open on it's own, so I use a rolling pin, and my grandmother's crystal lives next to a random cracked mug, some Ikea candle holders and my Donna Akrey sculptures.  I don't quite have the shelf space to display my objets d'art appropriately.

For comparison, here's a photograph from 2008, taken at 1:52 am:

Sunset-ish down at river-level, but up on the Dome above town it would have been even brighter.  The settings on the camera actually make it look darker than it was.

I was more diligent back in December, when experiencing my first winter solstice in Dawson.  I didn't manage to take a photograph every hour like I planned, but did get a few.  This is 10:18 am on December 21, 2010, before the sun was up:

I had to dress like this to go outside to take photographs:

It was only -31 outside--cold enough but not too bad.  At 12:36, the sun was just above the hills south of town:

And then the sun was pretty much set by by 4:36 in the afternoon, although the roses that Ben brought for me kept things cheery inside:

Looking at these dark photos it helpful for perspective: I shouldn't really wish these long summer days away, because once they're gone, there is a long succession of long winter nights to follow.  It's the balance and cycle that keeps it tolerable--and being able to go Outside and get away from it every now and again.  Going to the beach in January--even if it wasn't a tropical beach as such--cures a lot of things.

Botanical Beach in Juan de Fuca Provincial Park on Vancouver Island was chilly enough to require toques and scarves, but it was still fabulous.  And lovely to see the family--that's my brother, his wife and their baby-in-a-backpack watching the waves.

Another late "night" garden shot

Outside at 11:53 pm:

I wanted to work a little more on my composition, but was getting eaten alive by all the mozzies.  Nevertheless it certainly gets the point across: it's so light out!

(Almost) Midnight Sun

It's getting more difficult to sleep every night.  I should be sewing blackout curtains and not skirts!  It's just after 11 pm and the sun isn't even behind the hills yet:

The irises that are just about to bloom are really the only midnightish thing outside right now...

Midnight in the Garden...

It's my fifth (fifth!) summer living 64 degrees North--a mere 200 or so kilometres South of the Arctic Circle--and I still can't get over these "white nights" we have (to borrow a more Russian term for what is more often known hereabouts as the Midnight Sun).  Even though it is a cloudy night tonight, it is still so bright.  I couldn't resist taking a quick shot out in the garden at 12:25 am:

Not much of a photograph, but a pretty accurate representation of just how dark the night isn't.  I just love this crazy town.