Knitting Confessions #4.

Like most things in the world, knitting has a set of rules and conventions. Sometimes, we knitters break them. This is my knitting confession.

Confession #4: I have a weakness for pretty stitch markers.

I mean... everyone does, right? How can anyone resist decorating their needles with these little gems? They're undoubtedly functional (and as a lace knitter who constantly seeks out new challenges, I should know) and I believe that their beauty is an intrinsic part of their function. The more striking and distinct they are, the easier it is to recognize exactly which stitch marker and therefore which portion of the pattern you've reached.

And yet whenever the topic of stitch markers comes up on the Ravelry forums, you always get those people who say "oh, I just tie scrap yarn in a loop" or "I just cut rings off of a plastic drinking straw". I've started getting the urge to say, "Oh honey, just take some of my extra stitch markers." Because loops of waste yarn and slices of drinking straws are fine as makeshift stitch markers - as are leverback earrings and rings, both of which I've used in a tight spot - but they're not a permanent solution. They're easy to lose or disregard or accidentally knit into the project. A dropped loop of scrap yarn looks just like trash. But I can't tell you how many times I've discovered a dropped stitch marker and immediately knew I needed to double-check my project. Or times that I've paused at the end of a row to admire all my beautiful little markers, and immediately noticed one was missing. It's probably saved me hours of miscounting and frustration. Using tools you care about - it really works!

Nice stitch markers don't have to be expensive, either. I started out with simple brass-colored jump rings from a fly-fishing supply store. Fifty of these cost me about $3 - less than half of the shipping cost! A few years later, when I was first introducing Amy to the wider world of knitting, she made a set of about twenty red-and-black stitch markers for me out of her old beading supplies. However, after I ordered my first set of grab-bag markers from Exchanging Fire, I became well and truly hooked. I've made her Scorpion Honey (brown and gold) and Destiny (green and white) sets my go-to markers for projects that require more than just one or two stitch markers.

I keep a constant eye out for new stitch markers to put on my Etsy wishlist. They make convenient, relatively inexpensive little treats to reward myself with or to serve as a pick-me-up when I'm down.

What kind of stitch markers do you own? Do you have favorites, or do you use them all equally?

Join this week's link-up here.

Knitting Confessions #3.

Like most things in the world, knitting has a set of rules and conventions. Sometimes, we knitters break them. This is my knitting confession.

Confession #3: You know that yarn diet I was talking about yesterday? Cold sheeping and everything?

Needles don't count.

Stitch markers might count... but not when they're gifts, taken straight from my Etsy wishlist. These lovely shell stitch markers are from Lavender Hill Knits.

Amy was knitting a cowl for her mother, but wasn't sure about her yarn choice - white mohair held together with pink bamboo. I helped her frog what she'd knit so far. Then I remembered I had a skein of Lana Grossa Lace Lux, which was soft and luxurious and very close to the color she was going for. So I offered it to her, and in return she gave me the white mohair (which I'm fairly sure is Rowan Kidsilk Haze). So... trades don't count. (By the way, have you ever tried to wind mohair into a cake? Don't do it. There's fuzz everywhere.)

Amy and her husband Jordy also gave me a gift certificate to a local yarn store for my birthday. Whatever I buy with that won't count. And, as Ivy of Pumpkin Spins pointed out, if Bandit or anyone else gives me yarn, that definitely won't count.

This is not a hint. Not at all.

Join this week's link-up here.

Knitting Confessions #2.

Like most things in the world, knitting has a set of rules and conventions. Sometimes, we knitters break them. This is my knitting confession.

Confession #2: I'm a process knitter.

I realize many of you will nod along, completely able to relate, and perhaps even wondering why this even counts as a confession. Believe me, it does. I'm not "more of a process knitter", I'm not "mostly a process knitter", or anything else of the sort. I'm a process knitter. I knit things because I need to have things on hand to knit at all times. Looking through yarns and patterns excites me, having yarn and needles in my hands calms me, and having a finished object makes me feel proud and accomplished.

Then the project comes off the blocking board and...

I can't even tell you where most of my FOs are at the moment. They never get worn. They scarcely even get looked at. I knit things because I fall in love with the pattern, not because I need to wear or use them.

This may be why, even though I am in complete sympathy with selfish knitters, I usually end up deciding to knit things for other people instead. I know they'll probably get more practical use out of my knits than I will.

Join this week's link-up here.

Knitting Confessions #1.

I'm joining a brand-new link-up hosted by Brandy of Stitched Up In Toronto! She came up with a great concept which I'm sure everyone can relate to and which will inspire many different kinds of posts from different kinds of people.

Like most things in the world, knitting has a set of rules and conventions. Sometimes, we knitters break them. This is my knitting confession.

Confession #1: I'm a lace knitter who never uses lifelines.

I don't even know how to put in a lifeline or rip back to one. I've never done it before. I've never needed to.

I often peruse the "how do I start learning lace?" threads on Rav. The advice in such threads often boils down to the same themes: take lots of breaks, knit under really good lighting in a place with few distractions, don't knit dark colors (or if you must, put a white sheet on your knees), make sure there's enough contrast between your yarn and needles, and above all, lifelines lifelines lifelines.

I do none of these things.

I've found that the only things I need in order to knit lace are the yarn, the needles, the ability to read the pattern accurately, the ability to read the knitting to make sure it matches the pattern, and a lack of any particular trepidation about knitting lace.

And time. Sometimes, lots and lots of time. I won't claim that I've never had to go back to fix a mistake in my lace knitting - but I don't rip. I tink back, stitch by stitch, carefully and laboriously. I don't curse while I do it. I keep track of where I am, where the mistake happened and where I should be after I fix it.

It works for me.

Join this week's link-up here.