YARN CRAWL
I’m catching up on lots of things this week – appointments, activities, deliveries – plus I’m regaining equilibrium. As part of my stress dissipation strategy I went to Webs. Actually I went with my houseguest – long-time needlework buddy Kathryn (she of "too many centries, too little time.").
Of course no trip to Webs would be complete without an acquisition report.

The garnet yarn on the right is the 2/4 Highland Tweed 100% wool currently on special. The website lists it as an Aran weight at 4.5spi, but to me it seems a bit light for that. I have this cone plus a partial – in total a sqidge more than 2.5 pounds total at 992 yards per pound, roughly 2,511 yards. Thats way more than enough for a sweater for me at any gauge down to Gansey. The twist is a bit soft. It’s a nice deep color (not as tomato as the picture), accented with flecks of emerald, sapphire, turquoise, and topaz. On the cone it’s a soft wool, but not Merino-gentle and is imbuded with a touch of spinning oil. It’s possible that the spinning oil has flattened the stuff out and is making it look more like a DK, so I need to either wind off some and wash it then knit up a swatch, or knit a swatch and then wash it so I can determine final gauge. Based on the texture though, I am expecting this yarn to soften up considerably once it has been washed. 2.54 pounds is about 1,152 grams or roughly 23 50 gram balls. My purchase works out to the equivalent of about $1.33 per equivalent 50 gram ball. This stuff is listed on the Webs site. Mine is the cardinal color pictured there..
The yarn at the left is another back room bargain bin find. It’s a 80% silk, 20% wool blend, in a fingering weight with a slight boucle texture, about 2,400 yards per pound. It’s a nice denim blue. I bought two cones, again just under 2.5 pounds total. That’s a mind-boggling 5,928 yards. Again using the 50-gram skein as a standard, my purchase works out to 1120 grams, about 22.4 skeins. Rounding down, my 50-gram skein equivalent cost was about $1.12 per skein. My color isn’t shown on line although there was lots of it on the shelf.
Now. What am I going to do with all of this?
The red should be pretty simple to use regardless of gauge. It’s light enough in color and weight and not so busy that it can’t handle a bit of texture pattern knititng. I’ve got enough that if I wanted to go hog wild with cables, I could. I’ll be stashing it until a perfect idea emerges, although that Gansey idea is beginning to have a bit of appeal.
The blue however may be closer in terms of actual use. Remember past musings on the compatibility between crochet and knitting? About how crochet needs to be worked in finer yarns to produce a fabric comparable to knitting? Here’s a chance for me to experiment with that. I’m thinking of doing a summer top that combines both. I’d use this stuff single-strand for a classic crocheted yoke, adapted from an antique chemise or nightgown pattern, then using the same thread doubled, knit the body of the garment. The weight of the products of the two should match much better than trying to use both techniques with the same thickness yarn. My only handicap here is that I prefer not to wear sleeveless things, so some additional adaptation may be in order if I wish to wear the final result myself. Anything leftwover would make a nifty lace shawl.
I also got a bag of Rowan Rowanspun 4-Ply in Holly – an intense blued deep green. I’ve been collecting colors of this stuff for a while, all in the jewel family. (notice a theme here?) I finally have enough to do something spectaular. What exactly, I haven’t a clue.
So there you have it. Skid marks on the old Visa, and depending on the sizes/gauges used – most or major parts of 3-5 adult size garments, all for about $80. I’m stoked, I’m de-stressed. Now on to the knitting!
PROBLEMS WITH THE LETTER L
Corrections made
J Scholes is absolutely correct! The book I mentioned two days ago is Odham’s Encyclopaedia, not Oldham’s Encyclopaedia. I plead an absent title page, a rubbed spine, and bifocals. Of course I have no excuse about missing the obvious on the various Internet sites I looked at to document the probable date of origin. I’ve fixed Sunday’s entry accordingly.
An evening with Christine Duchrow
In other news, in an idle l moment I took up a book I bought a couple of years ago and tried to decipher the knitting instructions. It’s The Knitted Lace Patterns of Christine Duchrow, Volume I, edited by Jules and Kaethe Kliot (Lacis, 1993).

Duchrow wrote in Germany in the early 1900s. She’s one of the early proponents of charted instructions for lace knitting. The editors do say that some of the book’s patterns contain errors or are incomplete or damaged. To top it off the text is very sketchy and in German, and the symbol set used is a difficult one. For example, purls are represented by a lower case L and YOs are represented by the number 1. The printers didn’t always get the distinction correct, and even when they did – the blackletter font style l and the 1 are perilously close in appearance in the photo-reproductions presented in the book.
But not to be daunted, I try any way.
I started out with a relatively straightforward scarf/jabot pattern named "Muschelschal" (Mussel Shell). The photo isn’t very good, but the pattern looked simple. After wrestling with it for a couple of hours, I retrenched and went back to the basic edgings shown at the beginning of the book. I am ashamed to admit that I didn’t make much headway with them, either.
I’ve got the easy stuff down pat – that the patterns only show right side rows (wrong side rows are plain knit); that there is potential confusion between 1 and l (compounded because it looks like many patterns frame YOs with purls), and that I do need to rely as much on the picture as I do on the directions to figure out what’s going on. But I can’t make the stitch count numbers work. The cast-on value is clearly stated for each design, with each pattern starting off with a row of plain knitting. However, when I count up the stitches consumed by the first patterned row, I never come out with the number currently on the needle. Sometimes I’m one short, sometimes I’m one over. If I were always one short, I’d make the assumption that the slipped edge stitch isn’t calculated into the cast on number – but I’m not. Clearly more experimentation is needed as I am missing something here that’s very fundamental.
In the mean time, more on reading Duchrow’s patterns can be found on Judy Gibson’s site (thank you Judy!). Additional advice is always appreciated. If you’ve ever worked from this book successfully, please feel free to chime in with tips.
ANCIENT LEFTOVERS – WARMED OVER
It’s true I’ve had precious little time for much of anything lately. Including knitting. And the last thing I wanted was something challenging. Since small, soothing, quick to finish, and materials-on-hand were the orders of the day, I did several miniprojects. Most have already ended up as gifts – more booties, a baby hat, and several scarves.
The scarves were all done from my Kureopatora Snake pattern, some in various variegateds, and one in a solid color. I even bowed to the begging of Younger Daughter, and finished out the hideous short-repeat white, pink and grey Red Heart scarf for her to wear. (I may think it’s detestable, but she likes it).
I also went stash diving and came up with the remnant from this vest.
The vest was knit in 1987 or so, and at the time was a Major Investment for which I skimped on lunches, saving up for the purchase. The yarn is an old Silk City yarn I bought at Washington D.C.’s late, lamented Woolgatherer shop in Dupont Circle. It is worsted weight, mostly raw silk, with a touch of wool. The label departed company with the stashed remains years ago so I’m not quite sure which yarn it was. The stuff itself is soft and spongy, and over time becomes even nicer. Down sides include an abundance of very sharp chaff – almost thorns; plus the general non-stretchy nature of silk. The vest was adapted from a commercial pattern, now lost. I do know that I substituted yarns, messed with a new gauge, introduced the cables and removed some pockets.
Now for the hat.
I’ve had a haphazardly wound ball of leftover yarn sitting in my stash, too expensive to fritter away, but not enough with which to do something major. I grabbed it to work on in my small project frenzy.

Still riffing on the Snake scarf idea and no particular pattern, I started with a strip of bias-knit ribbing. I made it large enough to go around my head, earwarmer style and seamed it up. Then I picked up stitches along one side at a ratio of about three stitches picked up for every four rows of the strip. I ended up with 84 stitches, divided among four DPNs. Then I did a couple rows of purl welting and broke back into K1 P1 ribbing. When the hat was about 5 inches deep, measured from the bottom edge of the earwarmer band, I began my decreases. Since the thing was on four needles and I was lazy, I settled on four decrease points, and knit the last two stitches on each needle together, doing so every other row.
When I had onl y four stitches left on each needle, I decided to be silly. I worked about 16 rows of I-Cord using the four stitches on the first needle. Then I folded it in half, and without breaking the yarn, knit I-Cord from the four stitches on the second needle. I continued until I’d made four I-Cord loops, then did one row of plain knit to unite them, and one more decrease row. I drew my end through the remaining 12 stitches to end off the piece. I also did a little stealth fudging with the dangling end and a tapestry needle to snick up some looseness at the base of the I-Cord loops before darning the remainder in to finish the piece.
The result is a slightly goofy hat, with a finial on the top that looks like a Chuck Jones Instant Martian. I think I’ll take that tiny bit still left and add a row of knit-on I-Cord around the bottom edge. That will echo the look of the welts and the deely-bob at the top, plus it will give a nice, strong bit of definition around the bottom. As usual apologies for the lousy photos. The tweedy yarn is hard to capture well enough to see details,
One final note – The abalone shell buttons you see here are the third set that’s been on this vest. Previous sets included embossed black leather, and shiny black plastic. I’ve updated them several times over the years as styles have changed. Changing buttons can be an inexpensive way to freshen the look of classic knits, opportunity shop finds, or hand-me-downs.
BACK FROM THE DEAD & ODHAM’S ENCYCLOPAEDIA
From the "This too shall pass" department, I announce the end of the work project that ate my life. The final submission was yesterday. I am now left with a horrific clutter in my office, several thousand megs of files that need to be classified and archived, and the need to make up for eight weeks of sleep deficit. But all that aside, I also can now get back to String and wiseNeedle.
I’ve processed in the backlog of posted yarn reviews on wiseNeedle, and am about to start tackling the questions inbox. Since so many questions are duplicates of ones already answered at the site, there will be lots of "Did you look here?" notes. If you’ve posted a question since around mid-January and you haven’t heard from me, apologies. I am whittling away at the stack…
In the mean time, courtesy of my long-time stitch pal Kathryn, I can post another review of an out of print Knitting Book that Time ForgotTM.
ODHAM’S ENCYCLOPAEDIA OF KNITTING
We’ve all heard of James Norbury from his other knitting books. The most notable one is his Traditional Knitting Pattens from Scandinavia, the British Isles, France, Italy, and other European Countries. That’s the one that’s been widely reprinted by Dover Books. I mentioned it in another round-up of older knitting books two years ago. In January Kathryn sent me a copy of another of his products – Odham’s Encyclopaedia of Knitting, written in concert with Margaret Agutter. My copy is missing its title page, but searches in used book store inventories turn up 1955 to 1959 as the probable date of publication for my edition. Oldham’s is copiously illustrated with line drawings, sketches and a few black and white photos of finished garments. Based on the style of of the little thumbnail cartoons and some of the on-the-needle drawings of knitting in progress, I suspect that one of the many illustrators on this project also worked on the Mary Thomas books.
The book starts with a section on knitting history – nicely done and less folkloric than most contemporary works, although not entirely without hyperbole. 19th and early 20th century knitting is outlined, with references to many works the authors considered seminal in developing modern knitting technique – books and pamphlets I am now hungry to read. The meat of the book is somewhat choppily arranged. The first 70 some odd pages covers basic techniques, and is arranged alphabetically under broad subject areas. The instructive tone is very British-centric. For example, Continental style is mentioned as an aberant variation of "normal knitting," with the caution that it is inferior for maintaining even gauge. Grafting is described both for stockinette and K1, P1 ribbing (done in two passes on each side of the work rather than as a linear row). You have to look hard for it though, as the heading that starts the grafting section seems to be missing. As in all non-North American publications of its time, the name "Kitchener" is not associated with that technique. Crochet stitches are shown in this section, too.
The next section deals with fabrics and patterns, and covers some of knitting’s basic styles. It commingles them with texture pattern family descriptions (including directions for some of them), offered up as separate mini-articles. Therefore you’ll find small bits on Aran (it’s resemblance to Austrian knitting is noted); Argyle; bead knitting; Bohus; Faroe; Florentine/Jacquard (we’d call it Intarsia); Scandinavian styles; Shetland; and Tyrolean knitting all mixed together with general descriptions of the families of cable stitches, feather and fan stitches, leaf stitches, bobbles, etc. Instructions for samples of the various stitch families are presented mostly in prose, although graphs are used to show colorwork and motif placement.
Lace knitting is next. While the section does go into several styles, it looks almost like it was written by committee. There are at least four different illustration styles used, some being so representational as to be almost useless to the knitter. Most lace directions are given in prose, with a limited number at the end of the chapter being done in charts with symbols unique to this book. It’s difficult to tell from the bulk of the patterns exactly what they will look like, but the majority are covered in much better clarity in recently published lace books. The exception is the group of "Viennese Lace" texture patterns. Eventually I’ll explore these further.
Norbury/Agutter go on to describe the design of classic knitted garment shapes. There are sections on Cardigans and jerseys Yarns employed range from three-ply to DK, and sizes/styles are 1950s tight. While sizes are small, there’s a fair amount on darts and tailored shaping here that might be of use to people trying to do retro design today. Of more immediate use are sections on gloves, socks, berets and tams, and baby clothes. Directions for a single basic garment are given in prose.
The final part of the book is a compendium of garment patterns, again all in prose and to 50’s size and fit. Patterns are provided for the items shown in the black and white photos. Gauges are small by modern standards, with most items knit from fingering weight. But there are several cardigans and pullovers in DK weight, plus a couple in doubled DK weight (3.5spi, the equivalent of what one would expect from a modern bulky weight yarn.)
Like many of these older knitting compendiums, there’s a strong ideological bent , a smattering of fashionable garments to keep one interested , and enough detail to pass itself off as a general purpose handbook. But books like this weren’t aimed at people with absolutely no knitting experience. The level of detail they provide is insufficient for a beginners’ guide. Rather they were shelf references. Places an intermediate knitter could go to broaden a skill set, or brush up on a forgotten technique. Finishing for example is given very short shrift. Blocking is explained, but how one goes about accomplishing the "sew up" command at the end of each pattern is never quite elucidated.
Are modern books better? Yes and no. Some are, both as shelf references and as beginners’ guides. Some are shorthand cribs on just a few basic concepts, quick to master and trendy enough to look dated after only a year or two. Others do contain a fair bit of info, but like this particular book, aren’t organized in a way that works as a reference or as a skills guide.
Would I recommend buying this book used? While it’s certainly worth the time to look through on library loan, unless you’re a needlework history book buff (like me), I’d give it a pass. For me though it is valuable, partly for its interesting history of (mostly British) knitting before WWII, and for its mystery lace chapter. So thank you Kathryn! Although you were right that this book isn’t for everyone, it is a worthy and appreciated addition to my library.
NOT QUITE SURFACING
Where have I been? Working. There are some times in a proposal writer’s life when the project at hand grows to the point of devouring all other life. I’m writing from mid-peristalis right now, deep in the belly of the beast. My house is a shambles, and it is only through the cooperation and understanding of my family that any shred of normalcy remains. Side entertainments like blogging are out of the question right now.
Through it all though when I do get to sit down for a minute I’ve been stress-taming with trivial knitting. No projects worth a darn, but calming none the less.
Mostly I’ve been playing with odds and ends from my stash. For example, to answer some questions about other yarns suitable for the Kureopatora’s Snake Scarf, I’ve been playing with Noro Kureyon.

Apologies for the dark photo, again I just don’t have time to tend to details properly. As you can see, the long color repeat of the Kureyon worked nicely for this project, with single color slices lasting almost the entire duration of each segment. The upper scarf with orange on it was knit exactly according to the pattern I posted here – on a US #6, 30 stitches across at the widest point. The lower scarf in browns and grays was knit on a US #7, 28 stitches across at the widest point but otherwise following the logic of the posted pattern exactly. Each scarf took two skeins of Kureyon.
You’ll notice that in spite of the 28-stitcher having in fact fewer stitches across, it’s a tad wider. That half inch of difference is entirely due to the different gauge produced by the larger needle. Surprisingly, the 28-stitch scarf is also about seven inches longer than the one knit on the smaller needle.
In terms of drape, they are pretty close. One would think the scarf knit on the US #6 would be stiffer and denser than the one knit on the US #7, but in fact there is very little defference between them. BOTH are relatively un-supple compared to the Kureopatora original, but that is more a function of the difference between the two yarns rather than a difference among needle sizes. The heavier and less uniform yarn also had an impact on the amount of "wiggle" right and left in my snakes. The deformation that makes the snakey shape is less evident in this yarn than in the original, and is the same for both size needles used. Given the small differences between the two needle sizes and the extra width/length gained by using the larger needle, I’d recommend the #7 and the 28-stitch width for anyone looking to do a Kureopatora’s Snake scarf from Kureyon.
Now, how did I like working with the Kureyon? Not especially. In spite of hype, this is the first time I’ve used it. I accept the thick/thin variation and differences between skeins as being part of the yarn’s unique look. I am less happy with uneven spinning, with some parts so overtwisted that they kink almost uncontrollably, and others so untwisted that they shred into breaking from just the normal action of knitting. I’m also not fond of the fine grained agricultural dust that I feel between my fingers as I knit (very present in the orange/green scarf) and the abundance of sharp, thorn-like chaff in all four skeins used. I was also not pleased that one of my skeins had six knots in it (each skein had at least one). Finally, I find the texture of this yarn is too harsh for next to skin wear. My scarves are interesting, but are clearly "outside the coat" articles, and not something I’d be comfortable pulling up around my chin muffler style.
And in part to answer the folk who have asked about using yarns with shorter repeats for this pattern, I present the following eyesore, knit for edification only, and shortly to be ripped back:

This particular yarn is a Red Heart acrylic "worsted" in pinks, white, pale blue and gray, picked out for her own projects by Younger Daughter. Because this yarn like so many mass market acrylics is actually a 16st = 4 inch yarn and not a 20st=4 inch actual worsted, I’m using a US #9 here, and working on 28 stitches across.
There’s nothing wrong with knitting Red Heart – it’s a very serviceable and inexpensive yarn. Like any cost/value trade, it has performance and aesthetic strengths and weaknesses. It’s not particularly soft, although it is more wearable than the Kureyon. It feels squeaky on the needles. I don’t like the color set used, but that’s a personal preference item.
But what makes this horrific isn’t the quality or price of the yarn, it’s the length of the color repeat. As you can see from the exposed length, color segments last about 8 inches or so before shading into the next one. Stripes are choppy and colors pool at the edges, giving it a very haphazard and to me overall unattractive look. For this pattern to show best you need one of two things – a solid color, so that the interest comes from the movement of the ribbing segments and the way they deform, or a variegated yarn in which the color segments run for at least a yard before changing.
SHORT ROW HEELS
Turtlegirl asks what patterns I use for fingering weight socks. I shamelessly answer – my own. New readers here (and there appear to be many of them) may not know that I also am the keeper of wiseNeedle. wiseNeedle is the original yarn review site, active on the web as an all volunteer consumer to consumer, unsponsored service since 1995. In addition to the yarn review collection and a searchable glossary of knitting terms in 14 languages, I keep some patterns there, too. Among them is a slew of toe-up, short row heel socks in several yarn weights. There are three patterns there for fingering weight, and any of them can be used as-is, or by elimination (or substitution) of patterning on the ankle parts, made as simple or as complex as the knitter desires.
And in response to other requests, here’s a close-up of the short row sock heel, showing the mitering you can achieve with a little advance planning and a modicum of luck:

Why do they not match exactly? Because I didn’t take the time to make my socks identical twins. I started each sock off its own ball of yarn at the exact start of the ball. The repeats were slightly skew. I don’t have a problem with making these self stripers into fraternal rather than identical pairs.
Now, how to finagle this effect using a self striper? Lots depends on the width of the striped section. The narrower the stripe, the easier this is to do. You can better see what I did in the top sock, above. I knit the foot (on the left, heading up towards the top of the photo), ending it in synch with the completion of a red stripe. Then I began the back and forth short rowed section with the following section of black. I ended the decrease section of my short rows roughly half way through the black bit that followed the red, finishing up the black on the part of the short row section that re-awakens dormant stitches. Then I finished out my heel. This synch of the pattern to the printed repeat required that I fudge a bit on foot length. In a sock of this type, a row or two extra in the foot, combined with a heel a row shorter than normal isn’t going to make a major difference in fit. Since the repeat pattern is so narrow, I can get pretty close to perfect miters. On wider patterns it’s harder. In a wider pattern I do still try to end the foot at the completion of a stripe (or if it’s a VERY wide stripe, half way through a repeat). I let the short rowed section fall out as it may, hoping more for serendipity rather than planned perfection. Most of the time things work out well enough.

WHAT I’VE BEEN UP TO
The work crisis has not yet abated (in fact, it’s just settling in for the long haul). Even if I’m not writing about it, I AM knitting. Plain, boring, unadventurous, run of the mill, miles of stockinette, unchallenging (but comforting) knitting.
In my case, that usually means socks, and reverting back to the sock style I can do in my sleep – toe up with a figure-8 cast on, and short-rowed heel. I’ve been averaging completion of a pair every six days or so. I only knit for an hour or so each evening, so each sock is taking me three evenings to complete.

At the left what we’ve got is a pair of fingering weight socks composed from various leftovers. The vile mustard is a 100% wool yarn I’ve had forever. The label still lists the distributor with a pre-zip code address format. The tweedy green/blue is a partial ball of something (I know not what) I got in trade swapping leftovers with a friend, and the red is some Dale Baby Ull, left over from a sweater knit for the smaller daughter. This is the pair I was referring to when I wrote that in January my color taste departs, and I feel compelled to mismatch in the most garish ways possible. Perhaps it’s a seasonal longing for light and color that happens just after the holidays, when the world returns to winter-drab. In any case, the moire-like patterning of the red tweedy parts isn’t a camera artifact, it actually exists. For some reason the tweedy red bits worked themselves into swirls on the foot of one sock and the ankle of the other. I think they moved in and out of synchronicity this way because in this multi-ply yarn (a true 4-ply four ply), each ply was carrying the same set of colors. While the plies never aligned so that a blob of red hit across all four at the same time, it does appear that if two aligned **just right** I got my swirls. An unexpected effect to be sure, and one I would have preferred either lasted for the entire duration of both socks, or didn’t appear at all. Still, the things are garish enough to begin with, so the red striping is just another element of eye offense.
In the center is half a pair of light worsted weight socks. The other is still on the needles. In this case I had a skein of Little Lola, a variegated yarn. I’ve used it twice before to make Kombu scarves, but the colors for those were tamer. This particular skein presented a problem. The colors in it are less of a set, and more of a street fight, with fuschia, teal, olive, mustard and navy all scuffling for attention. I had set the skein aside when I used its two brothers because I didn’t know how exactly to use it. When I was rummaging through my stash to fuel my holiday knitting I came across two skeins of a yarn I got in a discontinued inventory sale back in 1994 or so, at the late lamented Yarn Shop in College Park Maryland. It’s Classic Elite Paisley Light, a mix of wool and rayon, and matches the all superwash wool Little Lola exactly in gauge and structure. In my case the Paisley Light also matched the fuschia in the Little Lola spot on. By working the toes, heels, and ribbing in Paisley, plus alternating stripes of three rows of Paisley and six of Little Lola, I’ve managed to tone down the discord of the variegated skein a bit. It’s still a riot, but more of a quiet one. (Review of Paisley Light coming soon to wiseNeedle).
Finally the pair on the right is standard issue Regia Mini Ringel. Nothing special here whatsoever. Due to my bad photography you can’t even see the nifty way the stripes miter on the short-rowed heel.
One last bit of blather, the old fashioned way of doing stripes (actually using two skeins of yarn, alternating between them on some sort of fixed count) is a wonderful way to make socks match in length. It’s relatively easy to count four or six rows of color A, then some number of color B. Then when time comes to make sure that the second sock is the same length as the first, all that need be done is count the stripes. Much more accurate than eyeballing or measuring, and far less tedious than counting rows. A final hint, sometimes counting even a small number of rows in stockinette can be difficult if you’re using a dark color yarn, or one that’s highly variegated. Instead of counting on the front side, I take a needle tip and insert it into a column of purl bumps on the reverse side of my stockinette. It’s easy to count off my rows by counting the purl bumps.

STILL SWAMPED
Yes, I’m still alive, but I’m swamped at work and haven’t had a moment to spare for updates here, or even for blog-wandering of my own. I have been knitting though. Nice non-challenging things like stockinette stitch socks, mostly in eye popping stash-remnant color combos. What is it about January that makes me hunger for color, and every year – leads me to make things that would normally cause me to twitch from the jarring contrasts and strange combos used?
In any case, something knitworthy, yet interestingly nerdy crossed my desk this morning. I present for your delectation a knitting machine made from Legos. Actually it’s more like a chainette maker, or a super-sized automated knitting Nancy (spool knitter), but it is a bona fide member of the knitting machine family. And it likes Red Heart.
LESSONS LEARNED AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS – 2005
One distinct advantage of cataloging my knitting life here – at year’s end, I can look back over my posts and see how productive (or unproductive) I’ve been. It doesn’t look like I actually accomplished much this year in the way of actual knitting. I certainly achieved conservation of un-finished projects, starting as many new ones as old projects that were brought to closure, although I did work on several major efforts. In any case, here’s a catalog of what I learned and did in 2005:
Projects finished
- Crazy Raglan. Knit for the smaller daughter and started in 2004, this was an exercise in the use of DK weight self-striping yarn for something other than socks, scarves and hats. I had several false starts on this one, ripping back when I didn’t like the patterning that resulted. I finally hit upon working the piece in several sections, joined Intarsia style. This allowed the yarn to play better over narrower strips of width. The project was a modified success, with most of the failure laid to the length of time it took me to get it done. In the intervening months, target daughter grew, so the final product was a bit smaller on her than I intended. Oh well. I get to knit her another sweater now.
- Fingerless whatevers – (also see patterns, below). A happy confluence of expedience and need, my hot color combo fingerless mitts made last winter bearable in my drafty house. I can’t say I learned much from this project besides the fact that not everyone sees the charm in garish, magpie color contrasts. But it was fun to do, and resulted in a pattern for general consumption plus a rare item made for me.
- Paisley Shawl – I started with some lovely hand-dyed multicolor lace weight yarn and Sharon Miller’s Birds Eye shawl pattern, but found out that the color variations in the yarn were too fierce and overwhelmed the delicate texture of that design So I began experimenting and looking around for alternatives. I found that the simpler the pattern and larger the plain stockinette (or garter) area, the better texture patterns coexist with color riot. I ended up working a mostly-garter pattern from Spring ’05 Interweave Knits. It’s an easy project, suitable for folk who are just embarking on lacy knitting. My Paisley turned out quite nicely, and became a much-appreciated gift.
- Alcazar – The Hazel Carter pattern. Fun to knit, but again a lesson learned. This type of complex lace knitting needs special care if it’s attempted in something other than wool. Wool’s stretch makes it optimal for the distortions required to span corners and block flat. My Alcazar turned out beautifully, but the unstretchy nature of the faux-silk rayon made it difficult to work with, and limited the effectiveness of the corners, making them a bit more cupped than they would have been had I used wool. Became a very much appreciated gift.
- Small grapevine in long armed cross stitch and double running. Been sitting around forever. I finally finished this one off and gave it as a gift (notice the theme, here?) The next day’s post goes into additional detail.
- Holiday knitting, including five scarves, seven pairs of socks, three hats, a pair of flip-top mittens, and a pair of fingerless mitts. Nothing much exciting here (except for Kureopatora’s Snake, see below). All gifts…
Still in the bag
- Cursed Socks. I can’t say why this is still ongoing, but this pair of socks has sat on the sidelines for the past two years. I could probably finish off the second sock in an evening or two. I hang my head in disgrace.
- Dragon Skin Rogue Cardigan – Starting with the excellent Rogue pattern, I introduced some materials substitution, gauge, sizing and texture modifications. All was going well until a mishap led to the front being pulled off the needles and a tangled mess. Elder daughter looks at me with cow eyes every time she passes the knitting bag containing it. My lesson learned here – take better care of projects in process, and don’t let things languish just because I’m frustrated by the prospect of ripping back a mile, and figuring out where I left off. More chagrin.
- North Truro Counterpane. This one is going to take a very long time, even if I pursue it with dogged determination. Still, I really like the way it’s coming out. I’m about 20% done (by eyeballed estimate), and will continue plugging along – probably as a perennial summer project. The cotton motifs are perfect for knitting when it’s too hot to knit anything else. I’m not embarrassed about this one.
- One total disaster, actually abandoned – the Mystery Project – a felted bag commission undertaken for Classic Elite. Try as I might, I could not get the entire thing to full evenly. My bag ended up a misshapen lump, and the tight deadline I was working under didn’t allow a second try. Horror in a handbag – that’s the only description I can think of that’s near accurate. Packed up in a box with the left-overs and mailed back in shame, so I can’ t truly say it’s still in the bag.
Reference articles
In spite of a dearth of personal knitting, I did write quite a few articles for String that I hope have been useful. So that’s something at least.
- Gauge 101
- Vintage yarn substitution suggestions – more are welcome. If you’ve got additions for this chart, send them along.
- Lillehammer mythology – The famous sweater, with some musings on possible meanings on its various motifs
- Doing the central double increase – with illustrations
- One oversized circ and two-circ methods for knitting in the round
- Two items on two circs, knit side by side – also check out the notes from the following couple of days for more clarifications
- Make one left and make one right – two complementary invisible increases
- Some useful web tools
- Musings on Dutch Heels and inverted Dutch heels
- Cast on Round-Up I and Cast on Round-Up II
- Knitting Needle Roundup, parts I, II, III, IV, V, VI, and VII – describing many of the most commonly available straight and circular needles, their characteristics, actual diameters and lengths
- Shoe sizes, worldwide
- Winding a center pull ball by hand
- Charting 101, 102, 103, 104, 105 and 106 – a series detailing how to go about taking a prose pattern and turning it into a chart
Patterns
And some patterns.
- Morgan’s Paw Warmers – Pattern for super simple wristies/half-mittens knit in the flat from bulky yarn
- Susan’s Impressionist Blues Lemonade – method description on making a stole with pockets
- Fingerless Whatevers – Fingering weight yarn half-mittens with a twisted stitch cuff and gusset thumb
- Ann Kreckel’s Baby Booties – the pattern is provided as a link (it’s Ann’s not mine) but I do offer up a photo essay on how the thing is constructed
- Kureopatora’s Snake – an entrelac style scarf done in ribbing in a wild yarn
- Kombu in German – a translation of my Kombu pattern from wiseNeedle, graciously provided by a German-speaking knitter
Books reviewed
And I posted reviews of a bunch of knitting books not often written about. Mostly these are out of print books I got through my local library. Insert shameless plug for local libraries. Go. Look. Take books out. If these older knitting books just sit on the shelves, the staff will be tempted to clear them out to make room for other stuff, and chances are the new books won’t be about knitting.
- Reversible Two-Color Knitting
- Stitch by Stitch Volume I
- Bantam Step by Step Book of Needlecraft
- Mit Nadel und Faden
- Patchwork Knitting (the other one)
- Design Knitting
- Knitting Stitches and Patterns
- Knit to Fit
- For the Love of Knitting
Plus there have been all sorts of other posts here this year, blathering on about knitting, techniques, horrific mistakes I’ve made in my own projects, nifty things I’ve stumbled across, and the like. Less however since my re-entry into full-time employment, as lengthy notes like this now take a couple of days to complete. I’ll soldier on into the New Year both blogging and knitting. I’ve already got two more pairs of socks I can rack up against my upcoming 2006 grand total.
WHERE HAVE I BEEN?
On vacation. Actually consumed by pre-holiday preparations and work responsibilities, THEN on vacation. January as well bodes to be a bit hectic, so postings here may be sporadic in the new year. We can report these accomplishments:
- 11 kinds of cookies baked, and distributed or consumed by the family
- 2 panforte, complete with dried cherries, toasted hazelnuts and almonds prepared, one brought to a group party
- Sumptuous small Christmas eve dinner prepared for the family, featuring squab in juniper berry sauce
- 2 bouche de Noel cakes prepared, one filled with hazelnut pastry cream, one with raspberry jam, brought to a group party
- Latkes, latkes and more latkes
- Blintzes, too – home made of course (my recipe’s in Elizabeth’s The Knitting Bloggers Cookbook)
- New Years cassoulet, including the duck confit we put up back in the spring
- Holiday shopping for friends and family
- Tree decorating (and un-decorating)
- Wrapping (and un-wrapping) presents. Mine included a small silk pouch for knitting accessories, a nifty new driver (too bad I can’t golf until spring), a thermos jug teapot, Yiddish with Dick and Jane, and a hand-made calendar.
- Hannukah candles, songs and games duly performed
- Attending the midwinter Revels performance in Cambridge, MA
- Kicking off three huge life-consuming projects at work
- Four additional pairs of socks knit, mostly from very much appreciated gifts of sock yarn I received over the past year (thanks again guys!)
- Family time spent messing around with the kids, playing PS2games, watching InuYasha DVDs, going to a movie, cooking, doing holiday preparations, and playing games together
- FINALLY shelving the books that have sat in boxes since we moved in last year, this event triggered by the delivery of our much anticipated library bookcases, and receipt of our Vance Integral Edition
- Major behind-the-scenes work on a facelift, feature expansion, and functionality upgrade of wiseNeedle
So even if I was away, the whole String family and I weren’t exactly idle.
As far as this year’s gift knitting, I can report an excellent reception all the way around. Both shawls I knit this year went as gifts, and both very VERY appreciated. The screaming school bus yellow scarf was loved by it’s recipient – the cheerful and watchful school crossing guard who is in the middle of her 23rd year on our corner. My annual flock of socks was greeted well. The luxuriously soft and lush curly mohair scarf and Juliet cap were loved by the person I gave it to – someone for whom texture is paramount. And my kids’ teachers enjoyed the various scarves I knit for them.
On the sock front, I can report that I don’t really like toe-up socks in self-stripers when they’re done with heel flap variants. I much prefer the look of a neatly mitered short-row heel with those yarns. I’ve reverted back to my old stand-by heel for socks for me, especially if I’m using Regia or one of the other auto-patterned sock yarns. The only exception will be if I make socks for someone who requires the looser fit of the heel flap heel. In that case should I want to use a self-striper, I’ll pick a complementary solid color for the heels and toes, and reserve the printed yarn for the parts that remain stable in width.






