In late July, after a couple of weeks of being unsure which project to start next and half-heartedly batting ideas around my head, I realized what I really wanted to make was something classic and versatile.  I wanted to make a sweater (of course) that I could throw on any given day and feel good.  

You may remember this charcoal grey yarn from the Rose City Yarn Crawl of earlier this year, and I may or may not have swooned hard at how delectably soft it is.  I decided this would be a good fit for this soon to be adored sweater.

Then, since I'm obsessed with Boyland Knitworks, I thought it would be fitting to make yet another one of Caitlin Hunter's amazing sweaters.  I've had my eye on Rock Creek since I first found out about Boyland Knitworks, and seeing that it's a little more simple in design it also felt like the right fit for what I wanted out of this project.

It has knit up remarkably quick (despite how long it had taken me to carve out time to work on it more).  

I found with each row I could feel the warmth and love this sweater would hold in the future.  I could feel all of the possible adventures this sweater might see.  I was able to watch movies with my brother while knitting on this sweater, move to a different state (again) while making progress, and the pieces of this sweater have traveled to family get togethers and meetings with new friends as if it already served as a token of joy.  One of my favourite things about knitting is that I can put so many memories in the stitches as I work on it, and it's as if I can knit the love into it before I wear it.  

Alyeska reminds me of a winter week in Montana that I'll forever cherish, taking a leap and learning how to knit from a pattern, and a fiber festival with one of the dearest friends I've ever known.

The Lunar Phase Mystery Knitalong reminds me of my fervent war and eventual victory with the moths, sharing a knitting experience with someone I adore, and the wonder of watching something I made turn into something I didn't expect, while eagerly watching the same process happen for countless others who were kind enough to share their progress on Instagram.  

Sipila reminds me of riding a train out to Chicago, then driving a uhaul from there to Utah, and relaxing by paddling up a stream in a kayak and knitting as the current carried me the long way back down.  

Before I knew it the body was ready to be (temporarily) set aside so I could work on the sleeves.  

Even though I spent countless hours drawing up plans for my future, getting comfortable with the modern way of meeting people, and unpacking and repacking my life- I still worked to make this part of the whirlwind that I had been turning my life into.  I wanted this to embody taking risks, following dreams, and searching with intensity for happiness in all aspects of my life.  It may sound like a lot to put into a sweater, but I felt confident that there were enough stitches that it would all fit.

The sleeves were worked up in the dead of night by the illumination of a flashlight in my downtime on 12 hour nightshifts in the Badlands of North Dakota, and surprisingly enough didn’t turn out disastrous or riddled with dropped stitches. I would like to officially thank LED flashlights for that.

Which leads us to one of my favourite parts of knitting up Rock Creek. At a certain point everything I had worked on was all together on the needles, and I got to feel like a cartoon character that just magically knits up a sweater with no need for anything other than one set of needles. Granted I knew the truth lurking in the shadows that I had needed double points, but there was something remarkably satisfying in having everything look so tidy and whole before it was even finished. Plus there was much less of a guessing game when people wanted to inquire as to what I was making.

Despite this taking me so long to post about, I did accomplish finishing this within a month. It felt like a lofty goal at first, but it helped me appreciate how far I’ve come in the last couple years. I started this blog in a way to record and encourage further crafting adventures. When I first started knitting I was terribly impatient and gave up on just about everything I ever started. Sweaters, big shawls, tops, hoods, and all the other treasures I wanted to make seemed so hopelessly far away. I would start a simple hood and lose drive because it seemed like it would never get finished. My efforts felt minuscule, and at a certain point I decided I was just never going to be quite good enough to make the beautiful creations I dreamed of.

It’s funny how time (and goals) feels different as you get older. What once seemed insurmountable is now a breeze, and what once felt so defeating is now a sign of progress and growth. The fact that this sweater only took me a month is enough to make me glow with pride.

When I first got back into knitting it still felt like a struggle to take on big projects and see them through. I could do a 10 ft x 10 ft quilt and be fine, but knitting gave me a bit of a mental block. Kind of like life, I had a hard time appreciating that all the little things I did would amount to something worthwhile.

Along with all the other wonderful and cherished memories this sweater holds, I feel it also marks a big step in appreciating how dedication is a muscle that has to be strengthened over time with constant practice. I probably would have given up on this sweater 4 years ago, because at that time I liked quick and easy knits that didn’t require too much thought. Anything bigger than a scarf was a slog to even get halfway through.

Now, after knitting near constantly for the last year, a sweater is no big deal. I’ve made three this year, and (spoilers) I have a few more queued up already, primed and waiting to hop on the needles when it’s their turn.

Often, I think we are as capable as we make ourselves to be.

I see that now, being surrounded by my family. A group of hardworking and dedicated people who put their hearts and minds to what they do. People who have started their own businesses and persevered through thick and thin of demanding jobs and harsh winters. Individuals that know how to get the job done, even when it’s not easy.

I think we as humans are creatures of passion, and need something to fight and work for. Even if it’s just a sweater.

But I mean, come on, it’s a nice sweater.

Stay sweet, stay crafty, and stay tuned.

A little bit of an introduction before I get to the sweater.

This website, blog, shop, what have you, has been a long time coming.  I'd make small little branch blogs that I never stuck with, Etsy shops that I woefully neglected, scattered quilt sales that would lift me up just high enough to make me see that this is what I wanted to do, but not enough for me to put any real drive behind it, and all other various assortments of half-hearted efforts that would end in me letting myself believe that I might not be cut out for my dreams in my life.  Which leads me to The Sweet Crafterlife.

Maybe I chose this name because I don't want to end up a wee spooky ghost haunting fabric and yarn shops, making strange and eerie appearances at circus performances, and giving my loved ones cold chills every time they try and curl up under one of my quilts.  Maybe it's because I've met my Fate and can, instead of bleeding my heart out over practicalities, enjoy all of these wonderful and beautiful creative works that I've so adored throughout my lifetime.  And maybe it's just because I've studied far too much death culture with an Anthropology degree, and this is now my twisted sense of humour.  Any which way we hack it, I welcome you, to this place where my otherworldly wishes are granted, and I simply enjoy (and perhaps grumble about my capabilities) for all of us to share.  

Now, enough about that.  I made a sweater and I'm excited.  Let's talk about it.

This project was born from my complete lack of ability to leave behind anything that is soft.  I had ventured off to the Knitting Bee of Portland with my phenomenal mother and, as per usual, I was feeling all of the fun and beautiful yarns when I found… the one.  It's baby alpaca, so it's made out of all of my wildest hopes and dreams, compacted into a semi-bulky strand of love and softness that makes me want to curl up in it for all of eternity.  

The pattern is what my brain thought a good sweater would be constructed like, partially because I like the challenge, and partially due to the fact that I'm still wary of knitting patterns and just try to wing it so I don't have to translate the whole thing into what works for someone that knits ambidextrously.

I started with just a basic rectangle shape, and as I approached the point where I wanted my arms to be, I decreased by one stitch on both ends for three rows.  I'm not particularly broad in the shoulder department, so wee bits of shoulder coverage were just fine.

The neck hole started with me feeling a little extra brave since everything else had been going so well.  

I chose to leave all of my stitches on the circular needles I was working on, but only knit the 15 stitches that would make up the shoulder on one side until it was a length that I thought would be suitable.

As is nearly impossible to see here, I looped the yarn I was working with in a continuous slip knot sort of chain, threading each new loop further down the side of what I had just worked on, and towards the stitches I had been ignoring.  I cast off on the middle stitches, which led me to the other side, so that I could begin my other strap.  

Once both straps were at the same length, I cast on the same number of stitches I had cast off in the front, and worked my way down on the back of the sweater, in time increasing my stitches towards the end of where the arm hole would be as I went.

Because I wasn't working with a pattern, have never made a sleeve before, and (at first) could not  conceptualize that the arm hole was bigger than my arm, I ended up needing  to decrease stitches quickly.  This made the (w)hole thing a little wonky and I quickly had to make adjustments so that I didn't look like an albino bat hopeful in my new sweater.  The second sleeve felt a little more like old hat (or old sleeve I guess) and I managed to finish it in half the time, finishing off both sleeves with a classic cuff of knit two purl two.  

Ultimately, I was thrilled about the end result and notified more people of this sweater than I'm going to fully disclose.  It definitely got a little rough around the first sleeve, but looking at the pictures and looking at it longingly in this summer heat, I'm happy.  

Now all I need is for it to be cold enough outside for me to actually be able to wear it.  

Thank you for the dedication of your eyes, and more will be coming soon.  All the best to you, and all of your lovely creations.