Organizing

There's something immensely satisfying about organizing stuff.

My favorite way to organize is to throw things away. This makes the people that I work with as well as my family somewhat frustrated at times. I love the sight of an empty desk, a blank computer screen, a dining room table free of newspapers and books and mail and coffee cups. Even when I'm the one who walked away and left the mess behind.

This is how disorganized I've become in the last few weeks: Friday morning, I suddenly realized that I could go out and buy clean clothes and not have to fold all the laundry waiting in the baskets from the last time the wash was done. It was eerie. I never expected to be one of those people who circumvent chores by simply replacing the stuff that needs work.

I did resist temptation to take that path.

But today, I spent a very satisfying, sad as that is, 20 minutes finally organizing some gauge swatches and the notebook in which I keep track of my projects.

Both very low-tech systems, both nicely tactile and somewhat like a journal.

The gauge swatches are stapled to the back of white 4X6 inch index cards.

On the face of the card I write the name of the project; designer's name; source of the project (a book, a magazine, a store pattern); the name and color code of the yarn; any techniques applied to it (such as dyeing and the name and type of the dye); needles (sizes, metal or bamboo, circular or DPN, length); the gauge result.

In the journal, I start each new project on the right-hand page. At the top corner, the start and conclusion dates. Much the same information as on the card, but now I note only the needles I used, and I add the amount of yarn used for the project.

I staple a sample of the yarn and the wrapper from the yarn skein to the page. That way, I can remember how the project looked and felt as I worked on it.

I used to take notes in this journal, keeping track of pattern repeats or the length of the WIP. Now I keep that minutaie in a small notebook in my knitting bag. I don't mind if it gets lost; I would be far sadder if I lost the journal, which is a bit like a baby book for my knitting.

The notes I now include in the journal are reactions to the pattern, to the experience of knitting the project, perhaps something that happened while I was knitting, perhaps something about the person for whom I'm knitting.

On my second effort on the Waterlily Top, I wrote: "aargh. . . I worked all the way to the top of the front. . .only to discover that the top is now too small - too tight around hips and midsection, armholes too tight - and because I did not alternate skeins of Giotto, one side of front has red/pink blotches while other side does not - ergh, rip and try it again-"

I don't know that I've ever before used argh and ergh in a sentence, or that I ever will again. But the notes bring back my frustration and my unwillingness to give up: I was going to triumph over this project!

My notes from the Icarus Knitalong, in contrast, look like this: "a great KAL experience for a new blogger - a very nice group of knitters/bloggers."

Is there a way that you like to keep track of your knitting life? Feel free to leave a comment and share your system. Don't worry: my stash is overflowing the laundry basket in my living room, too.