Stuck in Phase Two With a Sore Finger

I really should work on my knitting style again.

You see, I've developed a bad knitting habit.  I like to use my right pointer finger to push on the needle to help slide the stitches up the left needle.  I didn't actively learn this; it's just how I fell into doing it after I switched to continental style.  It's not a good thing to do, because you, at best, develop a nice callous (I wish.  As as someone who tried learning to play guitar long enough to know the benefits of callouses, I was hoping I would get one and that would be the end of it).  At worst you get constantly peeling dry skin, holes in your finger where you stabbed yourself with the sharp metal knitting needles you prefer, and an active split in the skin that hurts like hell (that started because you stabbed yourself with the knitting needle there).  Yeah.  It's not fun, and at this point it's bad enough that just brushing yarn against that finger hurts (because, of course, I use that finger to also hold the stitch on the right needle when I purl).

Every time I get the worst of it I tell myself I'm going to stop pushing the damn needle and learn a better way of moving the stitches up.  Then I start adjusting, end up knitting a few stitches slowly and carefully, then get annoyed with my speed and lack of understanding on how not to push, and go back to pushing.  Because as much as I accidentally hurt myself that way, I knit faster.  Even with the irritated cut.

Of course, I have no excuse.  I both learned the correct way to do English style and then switched styles (with minimal issue) when I figured out I was knitting wrong in English style.  Adjusting my technique shouldn't be a problem, right?  Well, it kind of is. 

I just finished reading a book called Answers for Aristotle by Massimo Pigliucci, which at one point touched upon what it takes to be an expert at an activity.  The book mentioned some research that it was found that a person trying to reach expert level goes through three distinct phases [1].  The phases are (paraphrasing, here):

1. Where the person is a novice and is focused on learning how to conduct the activity without making horrible mistakes
2. Where the person has gained enough skill to preform the basics unconsciously and  at a decently satisfactory level
3. Where the person becomes an expert in the activity (which is defined by having a high-level of skill at the activity)

You may be going 'duh', and you'll be right.  It seems pretty self-evident.  But that's not my point.  My point is best expressed from this direct book quote:

"Most people get stuck in phase two: they can do whatever it is they set out to do decently, but stop short of the level of accomplishment that provides the self-gratification that makes one’s outlook significantly more positive or purchases the external validation that results in raises and promotions. Phase three often remains elusive because while the initial improvement was aided by switching control from conscious thought to intuition—as the task became automatic and faster—further improvement requires mindful attention to the areas where mistakes are still being made and intense focus to correct them. Referred to as ‘deliberate practice,’ this phase is quite distinct from mindless or playful practice." (Pigliucci, 2012).

Now, I wouldn't go as far as to say that you can't get self-gratification from performing an activity at phase two.  Actually, I would say, especially in the world of hobbies, that many people have no problem staying firmly in some area of phase two; they're the knitters who are happily content with making plain sock after plain sock, garter stitch scarf after garter stitch scarf.  To them, playful practice is all the joy they need [2]. However, the aspect of that stage remains: unless you're both consciously mindful of what areas you need to improve in (aware of your mistakes or gaps in knowledge), learn how to correct them or learn the skill you're missing, AND mindfully practice it until it becomes second nature as they say, you're treading water skill-wise.  You just end up reinforcing the bad habits with the good ones you already know.  So of course I'm going to slip back to my bad habits because they're rote for me.  Unless I do my research, learn, and consistently practice how not to push with my pointer finger, I'm going to keep putting holes in my finger.

Not that this is going to stop me from knitting that way any time soon.  I both need to set more time aside to re-teach myself how to knit and I have a sweater that still needs to get done (on second sleeve, but that's another blog post).  Can you guess which one I'm picking?

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[1]: Unfortunately, I don't have the book anymore and I stupidly forgot to see what study the author cited.  As well, I don't have any free access to academic literature, but a quick search on Google Scholar turned up this study for which the abstract sound like it's concluded a similar idea.  But I'm thinking there must be more studies somewhere, and who knows if the abstract matches the study.  Despite my lack of correlating evidence, it seems correct so I'll just go forward with it as if it's true for now.

[2]: Of course, I don't have any actual evidence for this claim, because who wants to study why some yarn crafters are happy producing the same basic stuff why others continuouly try new things (let alone everyone in-between the two extremes...it's more of a sliding scale, really).  Well, that, and I haven't bothered trying to look for anything similar yet.  Let's just say I'm skeptical that the claim holds true for everybody for now.

Radio Silence and More Knitting with Tolstoy

Yes, I know, I haven't been updating this thing.  There's a reason, and unfortunately, this reason will continue for at least two more weeks (damn the real world getting in the way).  I am working on things (slowly), but I haven't had time to take pictures, nor the inspiration to write about them here.  Maybe next month I'll update on my June project progress.

So this isn't an excuse post, I do have an update on the book quote thing from my last random post.  You see, I finished War and Peace...oh, about a month ago?  It took me a month to read, I know that.  Not bad, but that's another write-up entirely.

No, what really caught my fancy was two more knitting-related quotes that really stood out from the numerous references to yarn craft that Tolstoy throws in his books. The first one is a good 80% into the book, and oddly, has an unusual character praising the activity of knitting (note, still have the Project Gutenburg version of this book on Kindle):

"She [Natasha] was sitting in an armchair placed sideways, screening the light of the candle from him, and was knitting a stocking.  She had learned to knit stockings since Prince Andrew had casually mentioned that no one nursed the sick so well as old nurses who knit stockings, and that there is something soothing in the knitting of stockings" (loc. 21291).

I think most of us who do yarn crafts can attest that doing such crafts is soothing...well, when you don't want to throw it across the room, at least.  And I can imagine a more relaxed person is a better caretaker (do note that these books take place around 1812, and were written in the same century; hence the assumption that caretakers are female.  The sexism is a product of the author's time, though I find that Tolstoy handles the characterization of women very well for a man writing in the 19th century).  Anyway, given the next line mentions clicking needles, I presume that Prince Andrew had ulterior motives for this suggestion to Natasha. I think he found watching and listening to someone else knit relaxing, more than suggesting that Natasha would find it relaxing.  If you know the context of this scene...well, the request and Natasha's compliance are quite understandable. 

The second is one of the last chapters of the first epilogue (the one that ends the story, not the essays):

"'Two, two!' they [the children] shouted.  This meant two stockings, which by a secret process know only to herself Anna Makarovna used to knit at the same time on the same needles, and which, when they were ready, she always triumphantly drew, one out of the other, in the children's presence" (loc. 21857). 

What I really want to know is 1) what process is being described here, because I  haven't got around to knitting socks yet, and therefore don't know the techniques or the history enough to be able to guess it, and 2) how the hell Tolstoy knew that some weird way to knit two socks at a time existed back then.  It's not like he could just Google it.  Maybe he knew how to knit?  Or maybe his wife?  I don't know much about the author, so I can't say.

There are other quotes I bookmarked, but they're all standard 'so and so was knitting x'.  These two were a lot more thought provoking.  Who know that I could (or would) read War and Peace and geek out on the knitting references?

Anyway, as I need to get some sleep (have to get up early on a Saturday, *sigh*, though it's my own fault), I will sign off.  Hopefully my life will be put back in order by the middle of next month, but I can't make a promise on that.  Until then I most likely won't get around to posting.

Yarn Craft in Literature, or In Which I've Been Reading Tolstoy Instead of Coming Up with Good Blog Posts

Because I have nothing right now other than some pattern math and a couple of semi-defunct swatches for a certain baby sweater:

...rather expensive yarn I bought because I walked into a new yarn shop looking for buttons, couldn't find buttons I liked, and then felt bad:

....a story on how I managed to screw up the order of colors on one of my afghan squares because I didn't bother writing it down before going out and attending a knitting meetup, as well as my main idea of ordering these squares, which would mean I need to keep color orders the same:

...and very little actual knitting done, I'm going to instead mention that I've also been on a Tolstoy kick in books recently.  Being that I'm supposed to be saving money and own a Kindle (and have yet to claim the library card that got sent to my parent's house by mistake), I've been hunting around Project Gutenberg for free books to read.  If you don't know what Project Gutenberg is, click that link right now. You don't even need to own a e-reader to read these books; you can read them straight on the computer (this presumes, of course, that you can deal reading a book on a backlit screen. Personally, I can't stand reading long books and certain other things on a backlit screen, hence I was a semi-early adapter for an e-reader).

Anyway, to get back on point, I finished Anna Karenina recently (in two weeks. Yes, I can read fast when I actually decide to sit down and read).  I'm now reading War and Peace (because I'm nuts).

I really, really, recommend reading Anna Karenina.  It has a surprisingly addicting series of plots, despite the fact that they all meander.  Maybe has something to do with the fact that it's like reading a train wreck; you'll be horrified by all the characters' actions, but you just can't look away.  However, I will admit that I've never minded long wandering books as long as the wandering parts are interesting, well-written, and establish character, while I know others who hate any meandering. Tolstoy was the definition for the former on this site, so you have been warned.  War and Peace, on the other hand, I haven't read enough of it to pass opinion yet.  So far, while it has very little semblance of plot line, the characters and their antics have been amusing me.

You may be wondering what this has to do with yarn craft.  Well, one of the many details that pop up in these books is characters doing yarn crafts.  I found this more amusing than I should have.  After all, these books do take place in 19-century Russia, so of course people are crafting.  But it's how it's presented, and sometimes even who Tolstoy bothers to mention is doing such a thing, that makes it interesting.  That, and I know next to nothing on historical yarn craft, so all these references are interesting from that standpoint.  Anyway, I will provide quotes (though not page numbers since this is on a Kindle, sorry. I'll give location numbers for any other Kindle users out there, though note, however, that 1) I own the first version of the Kindle 2 (though if you have the newer Kindle Keyboard, the screen size is the same...and holy shit, you can now get it for less than $100. Can you believe I paid $320 for mine?), and 2) the version of Anna Karenina I have is the free Amazon download, but the version of War and Peace is this Project Gutenberg version.  There is a Project Gutenberg version of Anna Karenina as well).

First, you have your standard women knitting stuff, along with a case of a man not getting it.  However, I'll mention here that I think the male character not getting it is more due to the type of character he was. If you know Anna Karenina, the following quotes come from the part where preparations are being made for Kitty's and Levin's first baby, for which Kitty and her relations work and Levin doesn't want to get it.  So, yep, baby knitting:

"On the terrace were assembled all the ladies of the party. They always liked sitting there, after dinner, and that day they had work to do there too. Beside the sewing and knitting of baby clothes, with which all of them were busy..." (8996).

"He [Levin]...tried to turn away and avoid seeing the mysterious, endless strips of knitting..."(9702).

"She [Kitty] was sitting up in bed, holding some knitting, which she had been busy upon during the last few days." (11434)

"Kitty was walking about knitting rapidly and giving directions" (11453). 

I should note that the last two come from the part where Kitty is going into labor, no less.  Guess the knitting relaxes her, as this is the first time in the book Tolstoy mentions Kitty knitting directly.  Before this, she was always working on a type of lacework.

Beyond baby knitting, you also have a governess of Anna Karenina's doing some pretty standard knitting:

"The English governess...was sitting near the boy knitting a shawl" (6858)

As well as a main character (Dolly) consolidating herself with some knitting early in the novel:

"...she [Dolly] took up here work, a coverlet she had long been making.  She always set to work on it at depressed moments, and now she knitted at it nervously, twitching her fingers and counting the stitches" (1052).

However, they're not the only people knitting in Tolstoy's works.  In War and Peace, you have a man (granted, he was a servant) knitting:

"An old man...sat in a corner knitting a stocking" (1978).

Also, this isn't limited to knitting.  Turns out, Anna Karenina crochets:

"...and taking up the crochet work that was lying on the table, she [Anna] began drawing the hook out of it..."(5855).

Though I have yet to quite get what Anna is doing here with it (for background, this is the same crochet work as the above quote):

 "...pulled the hook at last out of the crochet work, and rapidly, with the help of her forefinger, began working loop after loop of the wool that was dazzling white in the lamplight, while the slender wrist moved swiftly, nervously in the embroidered cuff" (5885).

So, now that I'm done whoring out literary references, I'll go back to this baby sweater now.