Lion Brand Notebook

News, Ideas and Information for Crafting with Yarn

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Author Archive


Bait and Stitch by Franklin Habit

June 5th, 2015

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Writer, illustrator, and knitter Franklin Habit joins us for his monthly column featuring humor and insights into a yarncrafter’s life.

I don’t know about you, but if the person who invented the “click bait” headline suffered severe contusions after being buried alive in an avalanche of refurbished laptop computers I would not weep heavily into my handkerchief.

Unless you’re reading a transcription of this online article from a parchment scroll, you know what click bait is. You’re fooling around on the Internet when something like this catches your eye:

“She Ordered a Half-Caff Double Latte with Extra Foam. What She Got Instead Will Shock You.”

Being only human, you immediately cease writing a wry comment on the photograph of your sister-in-law’s new pet ocelot (a rescue, so cute) and click the link. Being only human, you brace yourself for the advertised shock.

Being only human, you are annoyed to find that What She Got Instead was not (as you had rather hoped) a cardboard cup containing a human nose; but a Half-Caff Double Latte without the Extra Foam. You have wasted two minutes of your life, you are not shocked, and in the meantime your own daughter has already written the clever thing you were going write on the picture of the ocelot.

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This was bad enough when it was new; now it has become pervasive. The time lost is the worst of it. We are all too busy, in a gadabout age, without running after shocks that do not shock and amazement that fails to amaze.

And those of us who have things to knit, to crochet, to weave–can we stand to lose precious moments this way? We cannot. Life is short. Yarn is long.

Therefore, as a service to the public, I have undertaken to collect the latest crop of click bait and present you with a concise summary of the bait beyond the click. If you wish to investigate further, at least you will know what you’re getting into.

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A Brief Guide to Lesser-Known Yarn Superstitions by Franklin Habit

May 7th, 2015

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Writer, illustrator, and knitter Franklin Habit joins us for his monthly column featuring humor and insights into a yarncrafter’s life.

There is no question that persons who make things with yarn are a superstitious lot.  This is scarcely to be wondered at–so much can go awry on the journey from winding up to casting off. Skill and vigilance are well and good as safeguards against disaster; yet much depends on luck. You cannot make luck as you can, with luck, make a mitten. And so knitting, crochet, and all their sister arts are shot through with charms and spells intended to pick up stitches before they drop.

You are likely familiar with the folk custom that one does not knit a sweater for a lover to whom one is not firmly and finally wed. So old and pervasive is this belief that it has passed into common knowledge. Few among us will have left grammar school without learning the ancient playground chant:

Mary knit a cardigan

And handed it to Gene.

He stuffed it in his bottom drawer

And ran off with Maureen.

The origins of the famous “sweater curse” are obscure, but perhaps arose from the hard-won knowledge that it is best to present him with an expensive, labor-intensive gift he doesn’t want and won’t use only after both of you are too exhausted by the demands of child-rearing to care about anything else.

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Bootie Call by Franklin Habit

April 7th, 2015

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Writer, illustrator, and knitter Franklin Habit joins us for his monthly column featuring humor and insights into a yarncrafter’s life.

I couldn’t sleep a few nights ago so I pulled out a copy of After the Thin Man, the second of the classic MGM films with William Powell and Myrna Loy as socialite detectives Nick and Nora Charles. Have you seen them? You really ought to.

Start at the beginning, with The Thin Man. It was based on a crime novel by Dashiell Hammett, and all the installments are mysteries; but they wear that badge lightly. You don’t really watch a Thin Man film to find out who killed who; you watch it to see Powell and Loy bounce absolutely perfect wisecracks off one another in the highest possible style. Even their romantic moments are agreeably tart.

NICK: Did I ever tell you that you’re the most fascinating woman this side of the Rockies?

NORA: Wait ’til you see me on the other side.

Nick, Nora, and their dog, Asta, form the family unit in the first and most of the second installments. But in the closing minutes of After the Thin Man, Nick notices that Nora is knitting something.

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He leans in to take a closer look. “Looks like a baby’s sock,” he says.

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A pause.

“And you call yourself a detective,” says Nora.

He gasps. They kiss. Asta wails. The End, until Another Thin Man.

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Franklin Habit’s Destash Diary

March 10th, 2015

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Writer, illustrator, and knitter Franklin Habit joins us for his monthly column featuring humor and insights into a yarncrafter’s life.

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February 4. Abner was looking for the can opener today and found the sock yarn I’ve been storing in the flour canister. He asked where we keep the flour. We? When was the last time you whipped up a batch of cookies, Abner? I handed him the can opener–from the drawer it’s been kept in since the Carter administration–and told him to get out of the kitchen.

February 5. Abner was snooping again. Found the lace weight in the big roasting pan on the top shelf. So what? We only use it every fourth year when it’s our turn to host Thanksgiving. To keep the peace, relocated the lace weight to the canisters marked TEA and RICE. Wasn’t much tea or rice left anyhow.

February 6. Out all evening, volunteering at the guild’s learn-to-knit night. Terrific thank-you gift, two skeins of kid mohair/wool blend. Not sure what to do with it just yet, so it’s tucked in with the Christmas decorations in the hall closet. Abner has been nice and quiet, holed up in the den clacking away on his computer. Crisis averted? Fingers crossed.

February 7. At breakfast, Abner handed me a typed list of one hundred and thirty eight places around the house that he has found stashed yarn. He wants me to think about what I should do. I’m happy he didn’t look under the porch.

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Your Year in Yarn: 2015 Horoscopes for the Yarn Lover

February 10th, 2015

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Writer, illustrator, and knitter Franklin Habit joins us for his monthly column featuring humor and insights into a yarncrafter’s life.

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I’ve just this minute come in from my annual check-up with Madame Bobbie Jean, the psychic down the block. (FYI: She also repairs small electrics.) Looks like I’m in for an interesting ride. Since I was there anyhow I asked her to provide forecasts for all of you, as well. It’s my pleasure, really; and she gave me a fantastic bulk discount.

Aquarius (January 20-February 18)

Yours will be a year of conclusion and fulfillment. In other words, of finishing. You need not fear the second sock. Should you undertake to knit matching hats for everyone at the family reunion, success will be yours. Yet you will ring in 2016 still not having sewn together that green cardigan whose diverse pieces you completed in March of 2006. You will never sew those together. Ever. You realize that, right? You might as well start using them as dust rags.

Pisces (February 19-March 20)

Travel is indicated; sometimes over long distances, possibly even across the sea. You’ll do anything to find a skein of that discontinued yarn with the right dye lot, won’t you? Cripes.

Aries (March 21-April 19)

Seek opportunities for growth in the company of potentially like-minded people. When these people try to tell you that the fiber guild field trip to the Lion Brand Yarn Outlet is not an excuse for buying fifty pounds of stash yarn, seek opportunities for growth in the company of a different group of potentially like-minded people.

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Why You Don’t Have Your Mitten Yet

January 8th, 2015

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Writer, illustrator, and knitter Franklin Habit joins us for his monthly column featuring humor and insights into a yarncrafter’s life.

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Chances are I am never going to knit anything for you.

It’s not that I don’t like you. Of course I like you. You’re interested in yarn and you’ve come all this way to read something I’ve written; how could I not think well of such a person?

No, it’s not about you. It’s about time, and having too little of it. There is but one of me, and there are many of you. Even if I should promise to knit each of you a single mitten I couldn’t keep that promise before I drop dead.

And what kind of off-kilter gift is one mitten, anyhow?

You make things, so you know how it goes. You learn to make things and are so excited at having learned to make things that you want to make things for everyone. But you are a novice, and it shows. Your work is earnest, but uneven. The things you make are not much in demand.

“Is that…a hat?” says the person in the next cubicle when she spots you merrily stitching away during your afternoon break.

“Yes!” you cry. “Yes, it’s a hat. I’m making a hat. Would you like a hat? I’ll be happy to make you a hat. What color hat do you want?”

“Uh…” says the person in the next cubicle.

With practice your work grows not only even, but accomplished–and possibly splendid. The person in the next cubicle changes her tune.

“Would you make me a hat?” she says. “I would totally pay you. Ten bucks!”
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Well, Since You Asked…

December 9th, 2014

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Writer, illustrator, and knitter Franklin Habit joins us for his monthly column featuring humor and insights into a yarncrafter’s life.

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In my career I have reached the stage at which total strangers not infrequently write to me to ask for advice. My mother, to whom I am and will ever be The Little Boy Who Somehow Got Tomato Soup on the Kitchen Ceiling, finds this hilarious.

“Not cooking advice, Ma,” I tell her. “Knitting advice.”

“I know,” says my mother. “But still.”

Usually the questions are straightforward:

Q. Should I put lifelines in my lace shawl?

A. Yes.

Sometimes the questions raise an eyebrow:

Q. Do you have any tips on re-sizing a woman’s sweater to fit a guinea pig?

A. You may omit the waist shaping.

Sometimes the questions raise two eyebrows:

Q. Have you ever blended male chest hair into handspun alpaca?

A. Not on purpose.

Questions like these are easily answered.

But then something landed in my inbox that brought me up short:

Q. I have been knitting for almost twenty years and I have always loved it. But lately I’ve lost the urge. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have a project on the needles, and now suddenly nothing is exciting to me. I just don’t feel like knitting. I went to the yarn store twice last week and didn’t even touch anything. Please help. How can I get my mojo back?

Whoa.
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Hatter, Mad

November 12th, 2014

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Writer, illustrator, and knitter Franklin Habit joins us for his monthly column featuring humor and insights into a yarncrafter’s life.

When winter returns to Chicago, you have two choices: fight or flee. If that sounds overly dramatic to you, you have never spent a winter in Chicago.

Winter in Chicago is Mother Nature’s way of saying that she hates you, and would like you to die. More than that, she would like to kill you herself. Hypothermia while waiting for a train? Frostbite while walking to the grocery store? Sleet poisoning? The method matters not, so long as you are reduced to a dry, frozen dust by time June slinks back into town.

For those who cannot flee, warm clothing is the first line of defense. If you’re newly arrived and unsure of what is meant by warm, there’s a rule of thumb. Let’s say you’re shopping for a winter coat and find one that might do. Try it on in front of a mirror. If it looks pretty cute, and makes you feel like you can’t wait for the snow to fall, the coat will not be warm enough for February.

By February, Chicagoans have ceased to care what they look like when they go outside. Cut, style, color, fit? Not important. If it takes pairing filthy construction boots with a safety orange arctic exploration jumpsuit; then accessorizing those with two knitted hats, an army surplus balaclava and three pairs of gloves to get you to the opera with all your limbs intact, that’s what you put on.

This is why if you pass me on the street in midwinter and don’t say hello, I will not be offended. You won’t recognize me. You’ll think, “Did that raggedy pile of battered winter clothes just wave?” and keep going.

I wish I could tell you honestly that after more than decade of survival on the western shore of Lake Michigan I have grown accustomed to this annual renunciation of vanity. But no. The sight of winter ads from British tailors celebrating the elegance of classic overcoats and sleek leather gloves push me to the edge of rage. I live in Chicago, the city whose motto ought to be We Just Can’t Have Nice Things.

Winter hats are the worst, because as a knitter I should be able to make any sort of winter hat I like. A universe of colors, weights, and fibers awaits my pleasure. I could design my own. In fact, I have done so.

The immutable fact is–and I here I lay bare my great personal tragedy–that I do not have a “hat face.”

If you’re not familiar with that term, possession of a “hat face” means you are able to put anything on your head–from a masterpiece by Lily Daché to an empty shopping bag–and carry it off. You know who has a hat face? My sister. You know who doesn’t have a hat face? Me.

I have tried every standard and most non-standard forms of knitted hat and the results are never anything but unfortunate.

See for yourself.
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Expert Advice on How to Be at a Fiber Festival

October 22nd, 2014

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Writer, illustrator, and knitter Franklin Habit joins us for his monthly column featuring humor and insights into a yarncrafter’s life.

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I’m terribly sorry, but I don’t have time to stroll around the mall sipping a Giganto Grande Pumpkin Spice Extra Foam No Whip Latte. I have to go to a fiber festival. If you are reading this, very likely you also have to go to a fiber festival, or are getting ready to go to a fiber festival, or have just come back from a fiber festival. Possibly all three.

October for most grown-up folks means Halloween. That’s cool. Dancing around and getting squiffy on Pumpkin Spice Vodka Tonics while dressed as Sexy Nurse or Sexy Ghost or Sexy Claims Adjuster isn’t my idea of a zingy time, but it doesn’t matter. I have no room for Halloween parties. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I have to go to a fiber festival.

Perhaps you have not yet visited a fiber festival. Perhaps you have only recently been inducted into the enthusiastic, international group hug that is the fiber arts community. If so, you may be confused by the unfamiliar urge to walk out the front door and follow the scent of sheep dip and fried dough.

You may find yourself standing in front of a sign that says WELCOME TO RHINEBECK and wondering where you are, what you are doing there, and how you got so far from your home in Hickory Flat, Mississippi, without even realizing it.

Keep calm. You are going to be fine. In fact, you are going to have a ball, provided you observe the following.

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I Told You So

September 26th, 2014

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Writer, illustrator, and knitter Franklin Habit joins us for his monthly column featuring humor and insights into a yarncrafter’s life.

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It is said in my family that my grandmother heard the government was planning to send a man to the moon and her entire response was, “Why? All they’re going to find up there is an ash heap. We have one of those over by the railroad tracks.”

Apollo 11 touched down and it was revealed that the surface of the moon does, in fact, look remarkably like the ash heap by the railroad tracks. She was gratified. As Armstrong talked about a giant leap, she talked right over him. “I told you so, ” she said. “Didn’t I tell you? I told you.” Science had merely confirmed what she already knew.

After several generations of being thought quaint, weird, slow, backward, old-fashioned, and obsolete, knitters have reason to feel gratified. Science has confirmed what we already knew. Knitting isn’t just quaint, weird, slow, useful, and beautiful. Knitting is good for your health.

When a rash of articles like this broke out in the mainstream press recently, non-knitters of my acquaintance choked my inbox with eager messages.

This specimen is typical.

Hey Franklin, have you seen this? I thought of you when I read it. I guess you are onto something after all. Maybe I should try it if it helps your brain, ha ha ha! Send me some yarn! Ha ha!

Laugh it up, friend. I told you so. Didn’t I tell you? I told you.

One of my less jocular acquaintances didn’t just send the link, he asked a question:

When you’re knitting, can you feel it working?

I wrote back,

I can’t speak for all knitters, of course; but for me the answer is yes.

And he wrote,

Okay, what does it feel like?

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