I am one of those Ravelympic athletes whose shining moment ended after the opening ceremonies. All smiles and thrilled to be there, with no chance of making it to the medal stand.
The Argyle sock is kicking my butt.
I have spent fewer hours knitting in the past 10 days than just about any other 10 day period I can think of in the past 3 or 4 years, because unlike a normal 10-day period, I have knitting I'm "supposed" to be doing, so if I have problems with it, I can't just go do some other knitting project for fun while the problem item sits and thinks about why it misbehaved.
I work on the argyle each night, first tinking back to the mistake I ended with the night before, re-knitting, tinking back to fix an entirely new mistake, rinsing and repeating until I get fed up and the sock gets stuck on the night stand, crossing its arms and sticking out its lower lip. Or maybe that's me with the stuck out lip.
There was an issue with my gusset seam the other night. I'm using a 1/2 stitch from each selvedge to make a less bulky seam, and I came to a funky selvedge stitch that didn't look right when I inserted my tapestry needle through it, and didn't look any better after I pulled on the seaming yarn a few stitches later. I ripped back, reseamed, still no better. I deduced that I must have mounted the edge stitch incorrectly after frogging the instep diamond to correct a mistake I'd made in the color pattern. When I picked up the stitches again, I must not have mounted that edge stitch right, causing me to work in garter rather than stockinette.
I pondered whether the judges would notice and whether it would disqualify me, like the two runners who stepped on the line of the inside lane during the Mens 200m sprint. I decided they would notice, but I didn't want to risk being disqualified. So I ripped back. Then I began reknitting the instep diamond, and made a mistake in the color pattern. I tinked back to avoid an improper dismount, reknit, had the instep finish line in my sights and noticed another mistake, this time with the contrast line diamond. Tink, and tink again.
I seamed the gusset and it came out looking great. I joined the instep and gussets in the round and knitted along for several rounds, realizing I had 2 stitches too many on the instep. I designed the instep with selvedge stitches so that when I seamed the gusset, the edge stitch for the contrast line wouldn't be half-eaten by the seam, but I forgot that once I was done seaming, I'd need to get rid of that extra stitch by doing a decrease on each side.
So I have to rip back again.
It's Thursday. What do you think my chances are of finishing this sock and then knitting an entire vest by Sunday?
I didn't think so.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
In which I compare myself to Michael Phelps
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Why you should always listen to yourself
Ravelympics update:
I am cranking on this argyle sock. Cranking so hard I'm impressing myself. I made a mistake on row 2 of the pattern and caught it right away, tinking back to the beginning of the row where I made the error (intarsia is not the sort of thing that can be laddered down and corrected in one spot the way cables can be). I expected to make more errors, but somehow the lessons of Argyle Sock #1, knit last winter, stayed with me. The spots where I was likely to make an error were the spots where I instinctively stopped to check the color chart. Things were going so well, in fact, that as I sat in the car outside the school waiting for Nina's swim practice to end, I said to Sophia, "I can't believe how well this is going. I keep expecting to look at this and see some huge error."
I knit a few rows at lunch while we waited for the check, and then after we came home I decided to finish the second complete diamond sequence (which would complete the leg). Hmm, I thought. I really came close on my yarn estimate for the dark pink. All the other colors had a lot left over. No matter, though, because I had enough to complete the leg. Next stop: instep.
Then I took a look at what I had knit.

Sigh.
In other news:
Here's the Reversibly Cabled Scarf I was working on.

The biggest problem I had with the yarn (which is Lana Grossa Bingo) is that it is superwash and therefore I had to deal with weaving in ends on a reversible fabric that's knit at a fairly loose gauge, which meant little frayed ends were going to pop out no matter what. Unless....
Dritz Fray Check. Magic in a bottle. Keeps the ends from, well, fraying, and glues them to other bits of yarn, keeping them in place. I hid most of the ends in cable crossings. Very handy.
I am cranking on this argyle sock. Cranking so hard I'm impressing myself. I made a mistake on row 2 of the pattern and caught it right away, tinking back to the beginning of the row where I made the error (intarsia is not the sort of thing that can be laddered down and corrected in one spot the way cables can be). I expected to make more errors, but somehow the lessons of Argyle Sock #1, knit last winter, stayed with me. The spots where I was likely to make an error were the spots where I instinctively stopped to check the color chart. Things were going so well, in fact, that as I sat in the car outside the school waiting for Nina's swim practice to end, I said to Sophia, "I can't believe how well this is going. I keep expecting to look at this and see some huge error."
I knit a few rows at lunch while we waited for the check, and then after we came home I decided to finish the second complete diamond sequence (which would complete the leg). Hmm, I thought. I really came close on my yarn estimate for the dark pink. All the other colors had a lot left over. No matter, though, because I had enough to complete the leg. Next stop: instep.
Then I took a look at what I had knit.

Sigh.
In other news:
Here's the Reversibly Cabled Scarf I was working on.

The biggest problem I had with the yarn (which is Lana Grossa Bingo) is that it is superwash and therefore I had to deal with weaving in ends on a reversible fabric that's knit at a fairly loose gauge, which meant little frayed ends were going to pop out no matter what. Unless....
Dritz Fray Check. Magic in a bottle. Keeps the ends from, well, fraying, and glues them to other bits of yarn, keeping them in place. I hid most of the ends in cable crossings. Very handy.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Swimming, Serial Killers, and Scarves
We had the Olympics on the new "media room" HDTV, but I wasn't interested much in yesterday afternoon's offerings, so I sat at the kitchen island with my scarf, watching Season 1 of "Dexter" on NetFlix Instant Play. First sympathetic sociopathic serial killer I've ever seen. And I seem to knit faster while watching him. Or time flies faster. Or something. Because I finished the reversibly cabled scarf last night, except for the weaving in of the ends.
One snag with the casting off portion of the scarf. I used the Long Tail cast on and did what I've been doing lately, which is to cast on in pattern, using the normal knitted Long Tail for the knit stitches and Norwegian purling the purl stitches. It's a perfect edge as far as I'm concerned, but I didn't consider the fact that Elizabeth Zimmermann's Casting-On Cast Off is a match for the Long Tail only if you cast on in a completely knitted Long Tail. After some experimentation, followed by staring out the window trying to visualize what I was doing wrong, I realized the problem: the matching cast off is off by a 1/2 stitch, the way grafting pieces knit in the opposite direction are off by 1/2 stitch, so there is no way to truly match the cast on I did. So I ripped back for the 800th time and did a regular Casting On Cast Off. Another knitting lesson learned the hard way.
One snag with the casting off portion of the scarf. I used the Long Tail cast on and did what I've been doing lately, which is to cast on in pattern, using the normal knitted Long Tail for the knit stitches and Norwegian purling the purl stitches. It's a perfect edge as far as I'm concerned, but I didn't consider the fact that Elizabeth Zimmermann's Casting-On Cast Off is a match for the Long Tail only if you cast on in a completely knitted Long Tail. After some experimentation, followed by staring out the window trying to visualize what I was doing wrong, I realized the problem: the matching cast off is off by a 1/2 stitch, the way grafting pieces knit in the opposite direction are off by 1/2 stitch, so there is no way to truly match the cast on I did. So I ripped back for the 800th time and did a regular Casting On Cast Off. Another knitting lesson learned the hard way.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
In which we compare Fencing with Knitting
How they are alike:
Two long pointy sticks cross each other like a big X
There can be yelling
How they are different:
Knitting has yarn
Fencing has helmets
There is no protective gear in knitting to protect you from sharp points
When knitting, you sometimes yell if you make a mistake
When fencing, you sometimes yell (or scream/shriek) when you score a point
Ravelympic progress: still working on that reversible scarf due to 6 hours sailing on Lake Minnetonka yesterday evening.
More sporting comparisions to knitting: In sailing, when you heel the boat turns on its side
In knitting, you can turn a heel and no one gets wet.
Two long pointy sticks cross each other like a big X
There can be yelling
How they are different:
Knitting has yarn
Fencing has helmets
There is no protective gear in knitting to protect you from sharp points
When knitting, you sometimes yell if you make a mistake
When fencing, you sometimes yell (or scream/shriek) when you score a point
Ravelympic progress: still working on that reversible scarf due to 6 hours sailing on Lake Minnetonka yesterday evening.
More sporting comparisions to knitting: In sailing, when you heel the boat turns on its side
In knitting, you can turn a heel and no one gets wet.
Saturday, August 09, 2008
Let the Games begin
The Ravelympics games, that is. Let's just hope I can catch up with what I have to get done before I start on what I want to get done.
I have two projects to finish that will be samples for classes I want to teach this fall. I'm hoping to get both done this weekend. One is a reversibly cabled scarf and the other is a thrummed hat. I have only the crown shaping to complete on the hat, although I'd like to re-do the ribbing on larger needles, but we'll see how that goes.
For Ravelympics, I've entered two projects in WIPSwrestling. One is the Samus cardigan I knit two Augusts ago and which I take out every 8 months and attempt to do the zipper. The last time I worked on it, things were going fine, but I got bored with hand sewing I wanted to be knitting. The second project is the second argyle sock for the Master Hand Knitting Level II program. I only need to submit one sock, but since I intend to wear these, I'm making the second and will submit the best of the two. I made an error in the line diamonds across the instep, which no one except a judge holding it two inches from her face would notice, but since the judges will be holding the sock two inches from their faces, I have to make one that's error free. The other issue with the first sock is that I was working out the best way to deal with weaving in ends and joining a new length of the same color. Superwash wool is supposed to be feltable with extra friction, but I haven't been successful at getting a good join this way. The Russian join isn't great (either that, or I'm just not proficient enough at it), and my standard reverse duplicate stitch weaving shows up too much from the front, in that the extra thickness seems obvious. I finally hit on splitting the plies and weaving half along one row and half along another. In addition, I plan on making bobbins large enough to handle three vertical diamonds in one color, in order to eliminate as much additional weaving in as possible.
The third project will be my Level II vest. I'm going to use the silhouette for Eunny's Deep V Argyle vest, but knit it flat and with a texture pattern instead of in the round with color and steeks. Given the gauge will likely be different, too, it's hard to say if this is a variation of her pattern, or simply the use of her schematic. Either way, I'll have to write up my version and chart the cables and lace stitch patterns I'm planning to use. I decided against steeking because I've never done it before and this project is too important for me to try a technique like that for the first time. Also, the committee wants to see seaming, as much of the focus of this level is on seaming. I'd like to use as many of the swatch techniques as possible in the vest in order to show that I can apply those techniques to a project.
Alas, I am already behind, and the argyle sock will likely take me a good portion of a week, leaving me with only a week to get the vest done.
I have two projects to finish that will be samples for classes I want to teach this fall. I'm hoping to get both done this weekend. One is a reversibly cabled scarf and the other is a thrummed hat. I have only the crown shaping to complete on the hat, although I'd like to re-do the ribbing on larger needles, but we'll see how that goes.
For Ravelympics, I've entered two projects in WIPSwrestling. One is the Samus cardigan I knit two Augusts ago and which I take out every 8 months and attempt to do the zipper. The last time I worked on it, things were going fine, but I got bored with hand sewing I wanted to be knitting. The second project is the second argyle sock for the Master Hand Knitting Level II program. I only need to submit one sock, but since I intend to wear these, I'm making the second and will submit the best of the two. I made an error in the line diamonds across the instep, which no one except a judge holding it two inches from her face would notice, but since the judges will be holding the sock two inches from their faces, I have to make one that's error free. The other issue with the first sock is that I was working out the best way to deal with weaving in ends and joining a new length of the same color. Superwash wool is supposed to be feltable with extra friction, but I haven't been successful at getting a good join this way. The Russian join isn't great (either that, or I'm just not proficient enough at it), and my standard reverse duplicate stitch weaving shows up too much from the front, in that the extra thickness seems obvious. I finally hit on splitting the plies and weaving half along one row and half along another. In addition, I plan on making bobbins large enough to handle three vertical diamonds in one color, in order to eliminate as much additional weaving in as possible.
The third project will be my Level II vest. I'm going to use the silhouette for Eunny's Deep V Argyle vest, but knit it flat and with a texture pattern instead of in the round with color and steeks. Given the gauge will likely be different, too, it's hard to say if this is a variation of her pattern, or simply the use of her schematic. Either way, I'll have to write up my version and chart the cables and lace stitch patterns I'm planning to use. I decided against steeking because I've never done it before and this project is too important for me to try a technique like that for the first time. Also, the committee wants to see seaming, as much of the focus of this level is on seaming. I'd like to use as many of the swatch techniques as possible in the vest in order to show that I can apply those techniques to a project.
Alas, I am already behind, and the argyle sock will likely take me a good portion of a week, leaving me with only a week to get the vest done.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Master Knitting - back in the saddle
This has been in my draft folder for more than three weeks. Rachel complained that I don't blog enough (because I'm always over on Ravelry). She demanded photos of knitted items. After I post this, I'll write up a photo-heavy post just for her.
After a frenzy of swatch-making last spring, I completed nearly all the swatches before the kids got out of school and we went on a 3-week trip to Europe with extended family. I never got back to the swatches, although I continued my quest to create a great argyle sock. I made the first sock, cast on for the ribbing of the second, and then wandered off. I think another extended-family vacation was involved, in which argyle sock making was deemed to require too much brain matter after a day in Mickey's wonderland.
Recently, though, I decided I needed to get the Fair Isle Mittens out of the way. Selecting multiple colors to use in one project is an exercise in frustration for me, for a couple of reasons. It's difficult to find four colors of the same yarn that will work together and that I also like. I angst over whether the colors really do go together (I have some color vision deficiencies that make me insecure about matching colors), and then whether they work together, which I think is a different matter than whether or not they go together.
I have a range of colors in Cascade 220, including quite a few pinks. Sophia wants the results of the Fair Isle Mitten project, and therefore wants them to be pink. The problem was that while the three pinks plus the natural yarn all looked good together, they didn't work well for the pattern. There are color theory issues to deal with when knitting Fair Isle patterns, and I didn't deal with them well:

Sophia thinks it looks fine, but she's not a judge on the Master Hand Knitting Committee.
I re-read Ann Feitelson's The Art of Fair Isle Knitting to get some pointers. My second attempt came out a bit better.
Aside from a better color combination, my rusty stranded knitting skills were coming back. I'm still not entirely happy with the tension, but I didn't want to just try a third time and hope for the best.
There are a couple of problems with the required mitten pattern supplied by the TKGA. One is that for reasons too boring to go into here, I have a photocopy of the instructions rather than a PDF, which means the photograph of the mitten accompanying the pattern is too dark to see well. (I just emailed TKGA for an updated PDF, since my copy is more than a year old, and it turns out having the PDF doesn't help all that much.) Next, while I can maintain relatively good tension across the straightaways, I sometimes have trouble maintaining good stranded tension when I switch needles. This is a problem whether I use dpns (like I did in the old days) or a long circ for Magic Loop (like now). Because the stranded yarn has to come around a bit of a corner, rather than being kept straight, I either strand too loosely or too tightly.
Given the variation from row to row in the distance the carried yarn must travel, it's difficult for me to be consistent along that column of stitches.

Also, what a pain to weave in the ends! The circumference of the mitten is so small, it's hard to flip it inside out and back in order to check the tension of stitches connected to yarn tails that need to be woven in.
I decided I needed to work on a simple stranded project that could help me improve my Fair Isle tension on an item with a larger circumference than a child's mitten. Like a hat for an adult.
I went shopping down in the craft room (no further progress, by the way, surprise, surprise) where I pulled a ball of Noro Kureyon and some black Cascade 220 from the shelves (I love that I can weigh my yarn and the Ravelry stash management tool figures out how many yards I have.)
The fruits of yesterday late afternoon/evening yielded most of a Fake Isle hat:


Oh, oh. I almost forgot. Look what else I made this weekend.

Can you die from cuteness overexposure?
Yarn: Dale Baby Ull, doubled as a substitute for DK
Needles: US 7
Gauge: 5 sts/in
After a frenzy of swatch-making last spring, I completed nearly all the swatches before the kids got out of school and we went on a 3-week trip to Europe with extended family. I never got back to the swatches, although I continued my quest to create a great argyle sock. I made the first sock, cast on for the ribbing of the second, and then wandered off. I think another extended-family vacation was involved, in which argyle sock making was deemed to require too much brain matter after a day in Mickey's wonderland.
Recently, though, I decided I needed to get the Fair Isle Mittens out of the way. Selecting multiple colors to use in one project is an exercise in frustration for me, for a couple of reasons. It's difficult to find four colors of the same yarn that will work together and that I also like. I angst over whether the colors really do go together (I have some color vision deficiencies that make me insecure about matching colors), and then whether they work together, which I think is a different matter than whether or not they go together.
I have a range of colors in Cascade 220, including quite a few pinks. Sophia wants the results of the Fair Isle Mitten project, and therefore wants them to be pink. The problem was that while the three pinks plus the natural yarn all looked good together, they didn't work well for the pattern. There are color theory issues to deal with when knitting Fair Isle patterns, and I didn't deal with them well:

Sophia thinks it looks fine, but she's not a judge on the Master Hand Knitting Committee.
I re-read Ann Feitelson's The Art of Fair Isle Knitting to get some pointers. My second attempt came out a bit better.
Aside from a better color combination, my rusty stranded knitting skills were coming back. I'm still not entirely happy with the tension, but I didn't want to just try a third time and hope for the best.
There are a couple of problems with the required mitten pattern supplied by the TKGA. One is that for reasons too boring to go into here, I have a photocopy of the instructions rather than a PDF, which means the photograph of the mitten accompanying the pattern is too dark to see well. (I just emailed TKGA for an updated PDF, since my copy is more than a year old, and it turns out having the PDF doesn't help all that much.) Next, while I can maintain relatively good tension across the straightaways, I sometimes have trouble maintaining good stranded tension when I switch needles. This is a problem whether I use dpns (like I did in the old days) or a long circ for Magic Loop (like now). Because the stranded yarn has to come around a bit of a corner, rather than being kept straight, I either strand too loosely or too tightly.
Given the variation from row to row in the distance the carried yarn must travel, it's difficult for me to be consistent along that column of stitches.

Also, what a pain to weave in the ends! The circumference of the mitten is so small, it's hard to flip it inside out and back in order to check the tension of stitches connected to yarn tails that need to be woven in.
I decided I needed to work on a simple stranded project that could help me improve my Fair Isle tension on an item with a larger circumference than a child's mitten. Like a hat for an adult.
I went shopping down in the craft room (no further progress, by the way, surprise, surprise) where I pulled a ball of Noro Kureyon and some black Cascade 220 from the shelves (I love that I can weigh my yarn and the Ravelry stash management tool figures out how many yards I have.)
The fruits of yesterday late afternoon/evening yielded most of a Fake Isle hat:


Oh, oh. I almost forgot. Look what else I made this weekend.

Can you die from cuteness overexposure?
Yarn: Dale Baby Ull, doubled as a substitute for DK
Needles: US 7
Gauge: 5 sts/in
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Little Shop of (not) Horrors
So this weekend I decided to reorganize the craft room. I attempted to organize it when I first acquired it, but without as much success as I would have liked.
It's in the basement. The basement is technically unfinished, but one of the previous owners walled off a corner back in the '70s in order to create a darkroom where he played his 8-track cassettes and moaned about how gas had hit $1/gallon while he developed his archaic camera film.
The room has a door (which can be used to close out pesky family members and pets), a largish closet, and luscious overhead fluorescent lighting (old school, unflattering, dressing room fluorescent -- none of this full spectrum lighting business).
When I first set it up, I had a vision of a room like you see on Clean House, where a team of people come in and take everything out of the room in your house which has become a Pit of Despair and then talk to you about your particular psychological issues that led you to not let go of your crap.
My issue is not that I have a psychological problem or a history of emotional trauma I haven't recovered from which has haunted me so that I am compelled to collect things and never get rid of them, my issue is that I'm a slob who can easily ignore piles of crap for a really long time.
The best part of shows like Clean House is the reveal when they show the pack rats their new room(s), all freshly painted with new furniture and cool storage shelves and containers. I wanted a room like at the end of Clean House, where I could have all my crafty tools and materials right there at my fingertips. A place where my sewing machine would always be set up, where I could wind balls of yarn to my heart's content, and where all my yarn was stored in one place.
I had a couple of problems achieving my Clean House dream. First, you must understand that I am not a Type A person. I am not the kind of person who makes lists and then goes down the list, item by item, crossing each thing off as it's completed. I am the kind of person who makes lists, runs around doing all sorts of things she thinks are on the list, and then is stunned to find out that absolutely nothing she's done was on the list. (I have learned to add those finished tasks to the top of the list and cross them off.) I am driven by enthusiasm for something, not so much by duty. Once I get about 85% of the way through a project, it's usually done enough for me. My second problem was that I decided I had enough plastic drawers and bins and shelving in the house that I could achieve Rox's Dream Craft Room using only existing supplies, plus one new shelving unit from Costco.
So two years ago, we called 1-800 Got Junk and had them haul off the broken lawn mowers and various other useless items stored in the basement room, and I gathered all my craft stuff from around the house. I sorted through everything: patterns and pattern books, all my knitting needles, and my yarn. (I had a bit of sewing stuff, but really not much. I'm monogamous when it comes to sewing, and I tend to give the leftover fabric to the school art teacher.) This may not surprise you, but I had a lot of yarn. I wasn't surprised, myself, I was shocked. I don't think of myself as a yarn hoarder, but I guess after 20 years, yarn accumulates, as do UFO's.
Some of the yarn had to go, because it smelled musty. (We'd had a storm once where water came in through the window wells and some yarn got wet. I dried it out, but some of it didn't dry well enough or soon enough.) Two garbage bags full of yarn went to the dumpster. A large box of usable yarn went to the school's knitting club teacher. Most of that yarn was light blue and tan mohair (What was I thinking when I bought that? Oh, yeah, I was thinking, "It's the '80s! Mohair is in!")
The final (that is to say 85% done) results were disappointing. The shelving I had wasn't conducive to the way I wanted to store my yarn (The Costco unit was 6-shelf heavy duty wire number on wheels, which would have been great if I had fewer balls of yarn and each of them weighed approximately 50 pounds.) The yarn, which I had sorted by weight was left in cardboard boxes, or stuck in opaque plastic bins and drawers. Because I was using what I already had in the house, saving my money for more important purchases, like more yarn.
I set up a big folding banquet table where I clamped my swift and ball winder and where I have my sewing machine and serger set up. I had thought there'd be room to keep my knitting machine set up, so I could actually use it (once I remembered how to use it), but that was not to be. In the two years since then, the craft room became the Craft Pit of Despair. I used it to wind hanks of yarn into balls, and for the odd sewing project. I still couldn't remember what yarn I had, so if I needed something, I bought yarn, and then put it in in whatever box was closest to the door.
So Saturday afternoon I was in the craft room, sewing a seam up a length of sun dress fabric from Joann for Sophia and I looked around, wishing the room were more like my original vision when the urge to reorganize hit me. For one thing, we've been doing another major declutter in the house to convert the office into a media room, and a laminated bookshelf was empty and available. Two trips to Target to buy some canvas cubes (I got over the idea that I could "use what's in the house" to make this room work), and the rediscovery of some clear nylon zipper storage containers from American Science and Surplus, and my vision started to take shape.
Here's what I have so far:
This is the Costco Heavy Duty shelf. You can't see the top two shelves, but those have scrapbooking and sun painting supplies on them.
The next shelf has some of my pattern books (the rest are still upstairs), fabric swatches and some office supplies
Next we have the clear zipper bags full of sport weight cotton yarn on cones, from the days when I designed and sold baby sweaters using my knitting machine. I'd like to get my knitting machine set up again so I can use up some of that yarn. These used to be stored in huge semi-opaque plastic bins that took up several shelves. There's room now for me to stack them on top of each other if I need the space.
The bottom two shelves are sewing supplies, in a location I like very much. I can just turn in my chair and grab a bobbin or spool of thread, or a different foot. I used to have to get up and walk across the room, which meant nothing ever got put back, because I'd have to get up and walk across the room to do so, right in the middle of whatever was way more important than getting up and walking across the room. (The zebra print thing is a dress I'm making for my older daughter because we have been to the mall three times looking for an 8th grade graduation dress. She likes this dress, but it's not really appropriate for 8th grade graduation, either. But I digress...)
Next to the Costco shelves is a stack of plastic drawers. I'm not fond of the plastic drawer system for my yarn because I can't see what I have. So I got out the label maker, which helps a little bit. On the top I have a pack of KnitPicks Palette to be used for Fair Isle projects without fear that the colors don't match. I have some color vision issues and trying to match more than a couple colors is very stressful to me. Probably why I like textured knitting so much.
The pink drawer contains more cone yarn, mostly acrylic, but some superwash wool, too. The white drawers are a few oddments -- fingering yarn destined to be dyed, some handspun samples from a friend, the four balls of laceweight yarn I own. That sort of thing.
This is the part where I can pretend I live in a yarn shop. This is the shelving unit I just acquired after we cleared all the kids' books off and stored them in boxes (destined for donation).
The top shelf is miscellaneous crap, because I have to put miscellaneous crap everywhere I walk. There's a needle felting kit, an Unoriginal Hat made with yarn I bought at Shepherd's Harvest, a small bag of 5 or 6 balls of Noro Kureyon in different colorways, and 3 cones of DK merino/cashmere from Colourmart UK.
Next, we have cotton worsted (I have no memory of buying Sugar N Cream cotton) in the middle are some cotton/synthetic blends and some wool/acrylic blends, with acrylic and acrylic/wool blends in the far right.
The next two shelves are worsted weight wool, and then there's a shelf of baby wool, mostly Dale Baby Ull, but quite a bit of Reynold's Superwash Baby Merino, too.
On the floor are some boxes with fabric scraps, and a semi-opaque plastic box of socks with no mate (and the yarn to make the second sock for each). There are various reasons why these socks have no mates, but so far none of the reasons are compelling enough for me to frog the socks or throw them away.
This is the original laminate shelving unit I had in the room. I used to keep my sewing stuff on here, but as I mentioned, it's all the way across the room from my sewing machine (that's at least three steps).
On the left is sock yarn. Self-striping in the left-most cubby, hand painted in the right, with solids on the shelf below.
On the right is DK weight. Synthetics and various blends are in the left cubby, and wool is in the right cubby and the two cubbies sitting on the plastic bins below. Between the top two cubbies is cotton DK.
On the bottom left is bulky weight yarn, and the two plastic bins on the right contain UFOs. One is all the pieces for a cardigan. When I sorted through all my patterns, I found an old Rowan (#6) pattern book and I flipped through it. There are a bunch of intarsia patters that look dated, but almost everything else is still great. I saw a cardigan in there I liked a lot, so you can imagine my surprise when I came across all the pieces of said cardigan in a bag, with no memory of having knit it. (Eventually, it came back to me, but I thought it was weird that I didn't recognize that I had knit that entire garment when I saw the photo.) So those pieces are in one bin, along with most of the body of a man's Norwegian sweater. I'm thinking of frogging it and repurposing the yarn. In the other bin is the back of a crazy multi-colored men's pullover and all 16 colors needed to complete it. Except that my husband wouldn't wear it, even if he were transported back 15 years onto the set of the Cosby Show, and I can't finish it and wear it, because it would be ridiculously huge. I'm thinking of frogging that one, too, and maybe designing a sweater for myself that uses the yarn and stitch pattern. Because I love the colors.
But wait, there's more.
On top of the unit are wire baskets with miscellaneous sewing notions I haven't found a new home for yet. This yarn, however, is a 150g hank of (I think) worsted weight in a variegated colorway that I seem to buy over and over from various yarn manufacturers in various weights. I have some 8 ply Checkheaton superwash that looks just like this, and the super bulky yarn I bought at Shepherd's Harvest looks just like it.
The only problem is that it is a complete tangled mess.
This is Charlie, my alpaca yarn pet. I bought him at Shepherd's Harvest and have promised to make Michael a pair of fingerless gloves for next winter. His office is kept at a very cold temperature in order to keep all the computers from melting. Luckily, there is a lot of Charlie, so he can go to the office, but stay at home with me, too. I think I ended up with three (maybe four) yarn cakes from the 650 yd hank.
This is my future Manon (Norah Gaughan design) cardi.
And this is some more sock yarn (mostly cotton/wool blends).
I love this version of my craft room. I will continue working on it through the weekend (at least until it's 85% there) and take more photos when my 6th grader gets back from her class trip to Washington, D.C. She has my camera. She better bring it back.
It's in the basement. The basement is technically unfinished, but one of the previous owners walled off a corner back in the '70s in order to create a darkroom where he played his 8-track cassettes and moaned about how gas had hit $1/gallon while he developed his archaic camera film.
The room has a door (which can be used to close out pesky family members and pets), a largish closet, and luscious overhead fluorescent lighting (old school, unflattering, dressing room fluorescent -- none of this full spectrum lighting business).
When I first set it up, I had a vision of a room like you see on Clean House, where a team of people come in and take everything out of the room in your house which has become a Pit of Despair and then talk to you about your particular psychological issues that led you to not let go of your crap.
My issue is not that I have a psychological problem or a history of emotional trauma I haven't recovered from which has haunted me so that I am compelled to collect things and never get rid of them, my issue is that I'm a slob who can easily ignore piles of crap for a really long time.
The best part of shows like Clean House is the reveal when they show the pack rats their new room(s), all freshly painted with new furniture and cool storage shelves and containers. I wanted a room like at the end of Clean House, where I could have all my crafty tools and materials right there at my fingertips. A place where my sewing machine would always be set up, where I could wind balls of yarn to my heart's content, and where all my yarn was stored in one place.
I had a couple of problems achieving my Clean House dream. First, you must understand that I am not a Type A person. I am not the kind of person who makes lists and then goes down the list, item by item, crossing each thing off as it's completed. I am the kind of person who makes lists, runs around doing all sorts of things she thinks are on the list, and then is stunned to find out that absolutely nothing she's done was on the list. (I have learned to add those finished tasks to the top of the list and cross them off.) I am driven by enthusiasm for something, not so much by duty. Once I get about 85% of the way through a project, it's usually done enough for me. My second problem was that I decided I had enough plastic drawers and bins and shelving in the house that I could achieve Rox's Dream Craft Room using only existing supplies, plus one new shelving unit from Costco.
So two years ago, we called 1-800 Got Junk and had them haul off the broken lawn mowers and various other useless items stored in the basement room, and I gathered all my craft stuff from around the house. I sorted through everything: patterns and pattern books, all my knitting needles, and my yarn. (I had a bit of sewing stuff, but really not much. I'm monogamous when it comes to sewing, and I tend to give the leftover fabric to the school art teacher.) This may not surprise you, but I had a lot of yarn. I wasn't surprised, myself, I was shocked. I don't think of myself as a yarn hoarder, but I guess after 20 years, yarn accumulates, as do UFO's.
Some of the yarn had to go, because it smelled musty. (We'd had a storm once where water came in through the window wells and some yarn got wet. I dried it out, but some of it didn't dry well enough or soon enough.) Two garbage bags full of yarn went to the dumpster. A large box of usable yarn went to the school's knitting club teacher. Most of that yarn was light blue and tan mohair (What was I thinking when I bought that? Oh, yeah, I was thinking, "It's the '80s! Mohair is in!")
The final (that is to say 85% done) results were disappointing. The shelving I had wasn't conducive to the way I wanted to store my yarn (The Costco unit was 6-shelf heavy duty wire number on wheels, which would have been great if I had fewer balls of yarn and each of them weighed approximately 50 pounds.) The yarn, which I had sorted by weight was left in cardboard boxes, or stuck in opaque plastic bins and drawers. Because I was using what I already had in the house, saving my money for more important purchases, like more yarn.
I set up a big folding banquet table where I clamped my swift and ball winder and where I have my sewing machine and serger set up. I had thought there'd be room to keep my knitting machine set up, so I could actually use it (once I remembered how to use it), but that was not to be. In the two years since then, the craft room became the Craft Pit of Despair. I used it to wind hanks of yarn into balls, and for the odd sewing project. I still couldn't remember what yarn I had, so if I needed something, I bought yarn, and then put it in in whatever box was closest to the door.
So Saturday afternoon I was in the craft room, sewing a seam up a length of sun dress fabric from Joann for Sophia and I looked around, wishing the room were more like my original vision when the urge to reorganize hit me. For one thing, we've been doing another major declutter in the house to convert the office into a media room, and a laminated bookshelf was empty and available. Two trips to Target to buy some canvas cubes (I got over the idea that I could "use what's in the house" to make this room work), and the rediscovery of some clear nylon zipper storage containers from American Science and Surplus, and my vision started to take shape.
Here's what I have so far:
This is the Costco Heavy Duty shelf. You can't see the top two shelves, but those have scrapbooking and sun painting supplies on them.The next shelf has some of my pattern books (the rest are still upstairs), fabric swatches and some office supplies
Next we have the clear zipper bags full of sport weight cotton yarn on cones, from the days when I designed and sold baby sweaters using my knitting machine. I'd like to get my knitting machine set up again so I can use up some of that yarn. These used to be stored in huge semi-opaque plastic bins that took up several shelves. There's room now for me to stack them on top of each other if I need the space.
The bottom two shelves are sewing supplies, in a location I like very much. I can just turn in my chair and grab a bobbin or spool of thread, or a different foot. I used to have to get up and walk across the room, which meant nothing ever got put back, because I'd have to get up and walk across the room to do so, right in the middle of whatever was way more important than getting up and walking across the room. (The zebra print thing is a dress I'm making for my older daughter because we have been to the mall three times looking for an 8th grade graduation dress. She likes this dress, but it's not really appropriate for 8th grade graduation, either. But I digress...)
Next to the Costco shelves is a stack of plastic drawers. I'm not fond of the plastic drawer system for my yarn because I can't see what I have. So I got out the label maker, which helps a little bit. On the top I have a pack of KnitPicks Palette to be used for Fair Isle projects without fear that the colors don't match. I have some color vision issues and trying to match more than a couple colors is very stressful to me. Probably why I like textured knitting so much.The pink drawer contains more cone yarn, mostly acrylic, but some superwash wool, too. The white drawers are a few oddments -- fingering yarn destined to be dyed, some handspun samples from a friend, the four balls of laceweight yarn I own. That sort of thing.
This is the part where I can pretend I live in a yarn shop. This is the shelving unit I just acquired after we cleared all the kids' books off and stored them in boxes (destined for donation).The top shelf is miscellaneous crap, because I have to put miscellaneous crap everywhere I walk. There's a needle felting kit, an Unoriginal Hat made with yarn I bought at Shepherd's Harvest, a small bag of 5 or 6 balls of Noro Kureyon in different colorways, and 3 cones of DK merino/cashmere from Colourmart UK.
Next, we have cotton worsted (I have no memory of buying Sugar N Cream cotton) in the middle are some cotton/synthetic blends and some wool/acrylic blends, with acrylic and acrylic/wool blends in the far right.
The next two shelves are worsted weight wool, and then there's a shelf of baby wool, mostly Dale Baby Ull, but quite a bit of Reynold's Superwash Baby Merino, too.
On the floor are some boxes with fabric scraps, and a semi-opaque plastic box of socks with no mate (and the yarn to make the second sock for each). There are various reasons why these socks have no mates, but so far none of the reasons are compelling enough for me to frog the socks or throw them away.
This is the original laminate shelving unit I had in the room. I used to keep my sewing stuff on here, but as I mentioned, it's all the way across the room from my sewing machine (that's at least three steps).On the left is sock yarn. Self-striping in the left-most cubby, hand painted in the right, with solids on the shelf below.
On the right is DK weight. Synthetics and various blends are in the left cubby, and wool is in the right cubby and the two cubbies sitting on the plastic bins below. Between the top two cubbies is cotton DK.
On the bottom left is bulky weight yarn, and the two plastic bins on the right contain UFOs. One is all the pieces for a cardigan. When I sorted through all my patterns, I found an old Rowan (#6) pattern book and I flipped through it. There are a bunch of intarsia patters that look dated, but almost everything else is still great. I saw a cardigan in there I liked a lot, so you can imagine my surprise when I came across all the pieces of said cardigan in a bag, with no memory of having knit it. (Eventually, it came back to me, but I thought it was weird that I didn't recognize that I had knit that entire garment when I saw the photo.) So those pieces are in one bin, along with most of the body of a man's Norwegian sweater. I'm thinking of frogging it and repurposing the yarn. In the other bin is the back of a crazy multi-colored men's pullover and all 16 colors needed to complete it. Except that my husband wouldn't wear it, even if he were transported back 15 years onto the set of the Cosby Show, and I can't finish it and wear it, because it would be ridiculously huge. I'm thinking of frogging that one, too, and maybe designing a sweater for myself that uses the yarn and stitch pattern. Because I love the colors.
But wait, there's more.
On top of the unit are wire baskets with miscellaneous sewing notions I haven't found a new home for yet. This yarn, however, is a 150g hank of (I think) worsted weight in a variegated colorway that I seem to buy over and over from various yarn manufacturers in various weights. I have some 8 ply Checkheaton superwash that looks just like this, and the super bulky yarn I bought at Shepherd's Harvest looks just like it.The only problem is that it is a complete tangled mess.
This is Charlie, my alpaca yarn pet. I bought him at Shepherd's Harvest and have promised to make Michael a pair of fingerless gloves for next winter. His office is kept at a very cold temperature in order to keep all the computers from melting. Luckily, there is a lot of Charlie, so he can go to the office, but stay at home with me, too. I think I ended up with three (maybe four) yarn cakes from the 650 yd hank.
This is my future Manon (Norah Gaughan design) cardi.And this is some more sock yarn (mostly cotton/wool blends).
I love this version of my craft room. I will continue working on it through the weekend (at least until it's 85% there) and take more photos when my 6th grader gets back from her class trip to Washington, D.C. She has my camera. She better bring it back.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Seaming
Someone on Ravelry asked what the best way to seam a sweater was. She'd done a nice job knitting, but wasn't happy with her seams. I suggested (as did others) that mattress stitch seams are the best looking. Most online sources, however, show only vertical seams. Some show horizontal seams, but I couldn't find a nice online tutorial that showed how to seam a horizontal edge to a vertical edge, as with a drop-shoulder sleeve.
So here you are. A tutorial for seaming sweater shoulders.
Before you seam, block your pieces. It'll be much easier to seam them if you have flat edges. Since I wanted to get this done an upload it before I got distracted, I did not block my fake sweater pieces. Sue me.
Sewing shoulder seams
I happen to like a nice 3-needle bind off for shoulder seams, but if that's not possible, I seam them like so:

line up the pieces right side up so the bound edges are facing each other. If you are seaming a cardigan, make sure you're sewing the front piece to its correct corresponding back shoulder.
Insert the tapestry needle between the first two stitches

Pull it through, leaving a three or four inch tail.
Next, insert the tapestry needle between the first and second stitches on the opposite shoulder piece. Note that when you look at a stitch upside down, what looks like the middle of a stitch is actually the space between two stitches.

Continue moving from bottom to top, capturing one stitch at a time. Leave plenty of slack.


When you've worked all the way across, pull firmly with both ends of the seaming yarn.

Voila!
Here's what the seam looks like from the inside:


Seaming the sleeve to the body
First, you need to do a teensy bit of math.
Measure your stitch gauge

Mine is 5 sts/inch
Measure your row gauge.

Mine is 6.5 rows/inch
This tells you how what the ratio of stitches to rows is when you are seaming. In this sample, I have to seam 5 stiches for every 6.5 rows. Because you have to seam whole stitches to whole rows, I can look at it this way: for every 10 stitches, I need to eat up 13 rows. I can alternate 5 sts and 6 rows for one inch with 5 sts and 7 rows for the next.
In my example below, the "sleeve" is 20 stitches wide, which is 4 inches. I marked the point between stitches 10 and 11, and pinned it to the shoulder seam. Then I counted 13 rows down on each side and clipped the 13th row of one body piece to the first stitch on one side of the sleeve, and the 13th rows down of the other body piece to the last stitch on the other side of the sleeve. Like so:

Starting with the sweater body, I slipped the threaded tapestry needle under the horizontal bar between the edge stitch and the next stitch in. The horizontal bar is the running thread that connects one stitch to the other.

Next, I insert the tapestry needle between the first and second stitches under the bound off edge of the sleeve (just like for the bottom shoulder piece. I work back and forth between the body and the sleeve, picking up one horizontal bar on the body for every stitch on the sleeve for several stitches. Remember, based on my row gauge, I need to pick up an extra horizontal bar in the first inch, and two extras in the second inch, so that I pick up 13 rows/horizontal bars for every 10 stitches. Here's how I pick up an extra horizontal bar:

Here I am at the midpoint:

I can tighten it up now, if I want, by pulling on both ends of the seaming yarn:

Here's what the inside seam looks like:

Then I can work the other half the same way: 5 sts and 6 rows, and then 5 sts for 7 rows. Note that when I pick up 5 sts for 7 rows, I work 2 sts with 3 rows, then I work 3 sts with 4 rows. I don't pick up more than 2 horizontal bars/rows at a time.
Here's the end product:
So here you are. A tutorial for seaming sweater shoulders.
Before you seam, block your pieces. It'll be much easier to seam them if you have flat edges. Since I wanted to get this done an upload it before I got distracted, I did not block my fake sweater pieces. Sue me.
Sewing shoulder seams
I happen to like a nice 3-needle bind off for shoulder seams, but if that's not possible, I seam them like so:

line up the pieces right side up so the bound edges are facing each other. If you are seaming a cardigan, make sure you're sewing the front piece to its correct corresponding back shoulder.
Insert the tapestry needle between the first two stitches

Pull it through, leaving a three or four inch tail.
Next, insert the tapestry needle between the first and second stitches on the opposite shoulder piece. Note that when you look at a stitch upside down, what looks like the middle of a stitch is actually the space between two stitches.

Continue moving from bottom to top, capturing one stitch at a time. Leave plenty of slack.


When you've worked all the way across, pull firmly with both ends of the seaming yarn.

Voila!
Here's what the seam looks like from the inside:


Seaming the sleeve to the body
First, you need to do a teensy bit of math.
Measure your stitch gauge

Mine is 5 sts/inch
Measure your row gauge.

Mine is 6.5 rows/inch
This tells you how what the ratio of stitches to rows is when you are seaming. In this sample, I have to seam 5 stiches for every 6.5 rows. Because you have to seam whole stitches to whole rows, I can look at it this way: for every 10 stitches, I need to eat up 13 rows. I can alternate 5 sts and 6 rows for one inch with 5 sts and 7 rows for the next.
In my example below, the "sleeve" is 20 stitches wide, which is 4 inches. I marked the point between stitches 10 and 11, and pinned it to the shoulder seam. Then I counted 13 rows down on each side and clipped the 13th row of one body piece to the first stitch on one side of the sleeve, and the 13th rows down of the other body piece to the last stitch on the other side of the sleeve. Like so:

Starting with the sweater body, I slipped the threaded tapestry needle under the horizontal bar between the edge stitch and the next stitch in. The horizontal bar is the running thread that connects one stitch to the other.

Next, I insert the tapestry needle between the first and second stitches under the bound off edge of the sleeve (just like for the bottom shoulder piece. I work back and forth between the body and the sleeve, picking up one horizontal bar on the body for every stitch on the sleeve for several stitches. Remember, based on my row gauge, I need to pick up an extra horizontal bar in the first inch, and two extras in the second inch, so that I pick up 13 rows/horizontal bars for every 10 stitches. Here's how I pick up an extra horizontal bar:

Here I am at the midpoint:

I can tighten it up now, if I want, by pulling on both ends of the seaming yarn:

Here's what the inside seam looks like:

Then I can work the other half the same way: 5 sts and 6 rows, and then 5 sts for 7 rows. Note that when I pick up 5 sts for 7 rows, I work 2 sts with 3 rows, then I work 3 sts with 4 rows. I don't pick up more than 2 horizontal bars/rows at a time.
Here's the end product:
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
What the heck is a wrist warmer, anyway?
A recurring suggestion popped up on Ravelry in the weeks prior to Christmas in response to recommendations for quick, last-minute gifts: wrist warmers. And fingerless mittens.
I kept thinking, "What the hell are wrist warmers and why would anyone want them?" and "What good are fingerless mittens? Why wouldn't you at least knit a flap for them?"
Then it got cold outside, which meant my workspace got a little chilly, which meant my mouse hand froze itself into a claw and I started thinking about how I could keep my right hand warm, but keep my fingers nimble for typing purposes. Then I connected the dots.
Turns out that a wrist warmer is not what I thought it was. I was imagining those terry cloth sweat bands tennis players wear around their wrists, only in wool. You can understand my confusion as to the utility of such an item, never mind the fashion statement behind it. Also, it turns out that wrist warmers are for wearing inside. They aren't meant to be an outdoor accessory. Again, ooooohhhhhhh.
So I whipped up this guy:

Using the leftover yarn from the Seaman's Scarf in the wonderful, but now-discontinued Knit Picks Panache, a chunky, delightfully soft concoction of Merino, Baby Alpaca, Silk, and Cashmere.
Sophia promptly requested a whole pair (I only had enough yarn to make one wrist warmer for myself out of the Panache) in navy (school uniform color requirement), as did my mother and her husband.
A few measurements later, and Bam!

Chunky Malabrigo wrist warmers for my mom.
A package from Knit Picks arrived with several balls of worsted weight Andean Silk (next best thing to Panache) and Bam! More wrist warmers:

In cranberry, for Al. Needles: US 5 and 7 (3.75 and 4.5mm); yarn: about 1.5 balls (approx 75 gr). Maybe less. I made one whole wrist warmer, plus the ribbing for the 2nd from one 50g ball of Andean Silk.

And Navy for Sophia. Needles: US 5 and 7 (3.75 and 4.5mm); Less than 50g.
If I ever make another pair of wrist warmers, I'll spice them up with a nice stitch pattern.
Basic Wrist Warmer Pattern:
Four measurements needed:
Materials
50-100g soft yarn. Some basic wools I tried seemed too scratchy. We like merino or blends of merino with something else super soft, like silk or alpaca or cashmere.
Needles: one set of dpns, a long circ or two short circs in size needed to get the recommended gauge for the yarn, and then another set two sizes smaller
Tapestry needle for darning in ends.
Abbreviations
M1L: Increase, using Make 1 Left technique. Using left needle, lift running thread between stitch just worked on the right needle and the first stitch on the left needle from the front. Knit into the back (left) leg of the strand to twist the stitch.
M1R: Increase, using Make 1 Right technique. Using left needle, lift running thread between stitch just worked on right needle and the first stitch on the left needle from the back. Knit into the front (left) leg of the strand to twist the stitch.
Calculate CO number. Multiply measurement 1 by measurement 4. Round to nearest 2 for 1x1 rib. Round to nearest 4 for 2x2 rib.
CO, using smaller needles. Work ribbing for length desired. 3" is good for a kid. 4" works well for an adult.
Switch to larger needles. Knit one round, placing markers 1 stitch before the center of the round and 1 stitch after the center of the round.
Thumb gusset magic:
Rnd 2: Knit to marker. M1L, K2 (the next stitch will have a marker), M1R, knit to end of round.
Rnd 3&4: Knit
Rnd 5: Knit to marker. M1L, K4, M1R, knit to end of round.
Rnd 6&7: Knit
Rnd 8: Knit to marker. M1L, K6, M1R, knit to end of round
Rnd 9&10: Knit
Continue in this manner, increasing at markers every three rows until the work (not including ribbing) is as long as measurement 2. If you plan to work 2x2 ribbing for the thumb ribbing, make sure that you have a multiple of 4 stitches minus 2 between the markers.
Thumb ribbing:
Knit from beginning of round to second marker. Transfer thumb stitches to smaller needles. Join thumb in the round, picking up two stitches (one from front and one from back). Work several rounds in ribbing, then bind off in pattern. For bulky yarn, 2 rounds, plus the bind off round is enough. For worsted weight, 4 rounds, plus the bind off round does the trick.
Hand and hand ribbing:
Join yarn at thumb. This is now the beginning of the round. Pick up two stitches at junction between thumb and hand. Knit several rounds, then switch to smaller needles and work ribbing until length of hand from thumb matches measurement 3. Bind off in pattern.
Finishing:
Close the gap between the last chain stitch of the bind off round and the beginning using a duplicate stitch join.
Step 1: Note ugly jog and gap

Step 2: Thread yarn tail through tapestry needle. Push needle under both legs of the first chain stitch of the bind off round from front to back, as shown below.

Step 3: Push tapestry needle back through center of the last chain stitch of the bind off round, as shown below.

Voila!

Weave in all yarn tails, using tails at thumb junction to close any gaps between thumb and hand.
I kept thinking, "What the hell are wrist warmers and why would anyone want them?" and "What good are fingerless mittens? Why wouldn't you at least knit a flap for them?"
Then it got cold outside, which meant my workspace got a little chilly, which meant my mouse hand froze itself into a claw and I started thinking about how I could keep my right hand warm, but keep my fingers nimble for typing purposes. Then I connected the dots.
Turns out that a wrist warmer is not what I thought it was. I was imagining those terry cloth sweat bands tennis players wear around their wrists, only in wool. You can understand my confusion as to the utility of such an item, never mind the fashion statement behind it. Also, it turns out that wrist warmers are for wearing inside. They aren't meant to be an outdoor accessory. Again, ooooohhhhhhh.
So I whipped up this guy:

Using the leftover yarn from the Seaman's Scarf in the wonderful, but now-discontinued Knit Picks Panache, a chunky, delightfully soft concoction of Merino, Baby Alpaca, Silk, and Cashmere.
Sophia promptly requested a whole pair (I only had enough yarn to make one wrist warmer for myself out of the Panache) in navy (school uniform color requirement), as did my mother and her husband.
A few measurements later, and Bam!

Chunky Malabrigo wrist warmers for my mom.
A package from Knit Picks arrived with several balls of worsted weight Andean Silk (next best thing to Panache) and Bam! More wrist warmers:

In cranberry, for Al. Needles: US 5 and 7 (3.75 and 4.5mm); yarn: about 1.5 balls (approx 75 gr). Maybe less. I made one whole wrist warmer, plus the ribbing for the 2nd from one 50g ball of Andean Silk.

And Navy for Sophia. Needles: US 5 and 7 (3.75 and 4.5mm); Less than 50g.
If I ever make another pair of wrist warmers, I'll spice them up with a nice stitch pattern.
Basic Wrist Warmer Pattern:
Four measurements needed:
- Circumference around hand above thumb
- Length from wrist to webbing between thumb and hand
- Length from thumb webbing to base of index finger.
- Stitch gauge.
Materials
50-100g soft yarn. Some basic wools I tried seemed too scratchy. We like merino or blends of merino with something else super soft, like silk or alpaca or cashmere.
Needles: one set of dpns, a long circ or two short circs in size needed to get the recommended gauge for the yarn, and then another set two sizes smaller
Tapestry needle for darning in ends.
Abbreviations
M1L: Increase, using Make 1 Left technique. Using left needle, lift running thread between stitch just worked on the right needle and the first stitch on the left needle from the front. Knit into the back (left) leg of the strand to twist the stitch.
M1R: Increase, using Make 1 Right technique. Using left needle, lift running thread between stitch just worked on right needle and the first stitch on the left needle from the back. Knit into the front (left) leg of the strand to twist the stitch.
Calculate CO number. Multiply measurement 1 by measurement 4. Round to nearest 2 for 1x1 rib. Round to nearest 4 for 2x2 rib.
CO, using smaller needles. Work ribbing for length desired. 3" is good for a kid. 4" works well for an adult.
Switch to larger needles. Knit one round, placing markers 1 stitch before the center of the round and 1 stitch after the center of the round.
Thumb gusset magic:
Rnd 2: Knit to marker. M1L, K2 (the next stitch will have a marker), M1R, knit to end of round.
Rnd 3&4: Knit
Rnd 5: Knit to marker. M1L, K4, M1R, knit to end of round.
Rnd 6&7: Knit
Rnd 8: Knit to marker. M1L, K6, M1R, knit to end of round
Rnd 9&10: Knit
Continue in this manner, increasing at markers every three rows until the work (not including ribbing) is as long as measurement 2. If you plan to work 2x2 ribbing for the thumb ribbing, make sure that you have a multiple of 4 stitches minus 2 between the markers.
Thumb ribbing:
Knit from beginning of round to second marker. Transfer thumb stitches to smaller needles. Join thumb in the round, picking up two stitches (one from front and one from back). Work several rounds in ribbing, then bind off in pattern. For bulky yarn, 2 rounds, plus the bind off round is enough. For worsted weight, 4 rounds, plus the bind off round does the trick.
Hand and hand ribbing:
Join yarn at thumb. This is now the beginning of the round. Pick up two stitches at junction between thumb and hand. Knit several rounds, then switch to smaller needles and work ribbing until length of hand from thumb matches measurement 3. Bind off in pattern.
Finishing:
Close the gap between the last chain stitch of the bind off round and the beginning using a duplicate stitch join.
Step 1: Note ugly jog and gap

Step 2: Thread yarn tail through tapestry needle. Push needle under both legs of the first chain stitch of the bind off round from front to back, as shown below.

Step 3: Push tapestry needle back through center of the last chain stitch of the bind off round, as shown below.

Voila!

Weave in all yarn tails, using tails at thumb junction to close any gaps between thumb and hand.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Old Year Resolutions
First things first.

She's thirteen, as of this past Thursday. Friday, she got her braces off, which I think was almost as exciting as becoming a teenager.
She's modeling her birthday Trapper Hat (Vogue Knitting Winter 2005/2006) under the glow of the porch light, because she is also a Winter Solstice baby, which means there's not enough natural light at 7:30 am to take an outdoor photo.

Yarn: Lana Grossa Airwool and size 13 needles. It's a very soft yarn -- mostly merino wool with some acrylic. It's flat, with a layer of unplied merino sewn to a layer of acrylic. I hardly ever work with such large needles, so I lose a bit of the implied speed of big needles and yarn. I did learn to cable without a needle for this project, as the cables are 1x1, and when I knit in the round I knit continental, so I have trouble handling a cable needle. So that was nice. And she loves the hat, which is all I really cared about.
On to other knitting news
I'm finishing up some projects in order to clear as many UFOs off my list as possible.
FLAK - Done!

But I'm thinking about ripping out the neck and redoing it with fewer stitches. It feels a little wide to me. I knit 2" of ribbing and then sewed the live stitches to the inside. So maybe I'll rip back a few rows and do a regular bind off and be happy with that. Otherwise, I love this sweater. I've worn it five of the past seven days. It's State Fair worthy, assuming I can keep from spilling anything on it.
Samus - I'm about to try my third attempt at the zipper, having done some research in order to make this attempt my last.
Pomatomus

This single sock has languished on the needles mid-foot since this summer. These are a gift (no deadline) for a good friend, but I was not enjoying the 4-needle dpn method for the instep (I like 5-dpns or Magic Loop). I didn't have the right circ size to do this ML, so I bought the KnitPicks Harmony needles in 2.75mm and 2.25mm to fill in where I didn't have Classics in all the sizes. I don't use those two sizes much, and I wanted a way to easily tell them apart from my 2.5mm needles, which are my "normal" sock needles.
These quick projects, just finished

I finally understood the concept of a wrist warmer last week when it my mouse hand froze while resting on the kitchen counter. So I whipped up this single guy from leftovers of Knit Picks Panache. It's a discontinued yarn, which is too bad, because it was wonderful to knit with and it's fabulous on the skin (merino, alpaca, silk, and cashmere -- what could be wrong with that?)
Following that, I made a whole pair from Malabrigo Bulky.

More are on the horizon, as Sophia wants a pair in navy to wear at school, where some of the rooms are very cold.
New for 2008 - I've made an argyle sock for the Master Hand Knitting Program, Level 2.
Sock the first:

I always planned to make a complete pair (so I could wear them!) and since I wrote the pattern myself, I used the first sock as a learning experience for dealing with the yarn ends and the seams. A friend had told me that superwash wool could be spit spliced with extra felting time, but I didn't find that to be true, much to my disappointment. She's done it herself, so clearly there is something different, either with the yarn she used or her technique. Could be that her yarn didn't also have nylon. At any rate, I ended up with a lot of ends, and while I love the duplicate stitch method of weaving in ends, they seem very noticeable to my eye on this sock. I don't know if it's because the yarns are solid colors, or because they are knit at a tighter gauge or what. I tried Russian splicing for a while and didn't like it, but I've since acquired some thinner needles with straight tips (i.e. not Chibi bent-tip needles) and that has made some difference. I also tried splitting the plies and duplicate stitching the thinner ends and that looks better, too.
For the second sock, I'm planning to wind the entire estimated length needed for a particular color block so I can eliminate as many ends to weave in as possible. I'm curious to see what washing and blocking will do to even out my stitches, too. I get the same gauge knitting flat as I do in the round, but I sometimes see a zig-zag effect in my flat knitting that I don't see when the knitting is all in one direction.
Up next in MK Level II Land is the Fair Isle mitten. I'll probably knit three of these: a pair for my daughter, who picked out the colors, and a third for the binder. I haven't done much stranded color work in the past couple years, and I've accumulated a few new methods of knitting in the round, so I'm going to need the practice to get the hang of proper tension again.
There's more, but it's late and we're off to the World of Mickey for a long vacation with extended family.
Merry Christmas, Happy Solstice, Happy New Year, etc.

She's thirteen, as of this past Thursday. Friday, she got her braces off, which I think was almost as exciting as becoming a teenager.
She's modeling her birthday Trapper Hat (Vogue Knitting Winter 2005/2006) under the glow of the porch light, because she is also a Winter Solstice baby, which means there's not enough natural light at 7:30 am to take an outdoor photo.

Yarn: Lana Grossa Airwool and size 13 needles. It's a very soft yarn -- mostly merino wool with some acrylic. It's flat, with a layer of unplied merino sewn to a layer of acrylic. I hardly ever work with such large needles, so I lose a bit of the implied speed of big needles and yarn. I did learn to cable without a needle for this project, as the cables are 1x1, and when I knit in the round I knit continental, so I have trouble handling a cable needle. So that was nice. And she loves the hat, which is all I really cared about.
On to other knitting news
I'm finishing up some projects in order to clear as many UFOs off my list as possible.
FLAK - Done!

But I'm thinking about ripping out the neck and redoing it with fewer stitches. It feels a little wide to me. I knit 2" of ribbing and then sewed the live stitches to the inside. So maybe I'll rip back a few rows and do a regular bind off and be happy with that. Otherwise, I love this sweater. I've worn it five of the past seven days. It's State Fair worthy, assuming I can keep from spilling anything on it.
Samus - I'm about to try my third attempt at the zipper, having done some research in order to make this attempt my last.
Pomatomus

This single sock has languished on the needles mid-foot since this summer. These are a gift (no deadline) for a good friend, but I was not enjoying the 4-needle dpn method for the instep (I like 5-dpns or Magic Loop). I didn't have the right circ size to do this ML, so I bought the KnitPicks Harmony needles in 2.75mm and 2.25mm to fill in where I didn't have Classics in all the sizes. I don't use those two sizes much, and I wanted a way to easily tell them apart from my 2.5mm needles, which are my "normal" sock needles.
These quick projects, just finished

I finally understood the concept of a wrist warmer last week when it my mouse hand froze while resting on the kitchen counter. So I whipped up this single guy from leftovers of Knit Picks Panache. It's a discontinued yarn, which is too bad, because it was wonderful to knit with and it's fabulous on the skin (merino, alpaca, silk, and cashmere -- what could be wrong with that?)
Following that, I made a whole pair from Malabrigo Bulky.

More are on the horizon, as Sophia wants a pair in navy to wear at school, where some of the rooms are very cold.
New for 2008 - I've made an argyle sock for the Master Hand Knitting Program, Level 2.
Sock the first:

I always planned to make a complete pair (so I could wear them!) and since I wrote the pattern myself, I used the first sock as a learning experience for dealing with the yarn ends and the seams. A friend had told me that superwash wool could be spit spliced with extra felting time, but I didn't find that to be true, much to my disappointment. She's done it herself, so clearly there is something different, either with the yarn she used or her technique. Could be that her yarn didn't also have nylon. At any rate, I ended up with a lot of ends, and while I love the duplicate stitch method of weaving in ends, they seem very noticeable to my eye on this sock. I don't know if it's because the yarns are solid colors, or because they are knit at a tighter gauge or what. I tried Russian splicing for a while and didn't like it, but I've since acquired some thinner needles with straight tips (i.e. not Chibi bent-tip needles) and that has made some difference. I also tried splitting the plies and duplicate stitching the thinner ends and that looks better, too.
For the second sock, I'm planning to wind the entire estimated length needed for a particular color block so I can eliminate as many ends to weave in as possible. I'm curious to see what washing and blocking will do to even out my stitches, too. I get the same gauge knitting flat as I do in the round, but I sometimes see a zig-zag effect in my flat knitting that I don't see when the knitting is all in one direction.
Up next in MK Level II Land is the Fair Isle mitten. I'll probably knit three of these: a pair for my daughter, who picked out the colors, and a third for the binder. I haven't done much stranded color work in the past couple years, and I've accumulated a few new methods of knitting in the round, so I'm going to need the practice to get the hang of proper tension again.
There's more, but it's late and we're off to the World of Mickey for a long vacation with extended family.
Merry Christmas, Happy Solstice, Happy New Year, etc.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)


