Putting it all together

The girls are going out tonight to celebrate Clare's birthday. The "secret thing" is finished. Well, the knitting is finished, now we come to the bit I just love (NOT) - the seaming.

Kate, being Kate, has to read everything there is to read about whatever it is before she starts. My one-time stitching teacher, Ann, used to say, "Just START, Kate!" I try but I can't "just start".

First we have to weave in the ends. We need to read a bit about that first. So we apply to the wonderful Knitty, and we find this. All fears about weaving in the ends assuaged, we move on to the seaming. Knitty comes to the rescue once again with this article. The "secret thing" is close, very close. Once again, there are still no pictures because, well, you know where the camera is, don't you?

I suppose you need a bit of eye-candy? During the knitting of the Heirloom Shawl, I also knitted this:



Frost and Ice shawl, designed by Sharon Miller from the Simply Stunning Collection, made with 3 plus (but not 4) balls of Rowan Kidsilk Haze. Started March 10th '05. Finished 26th April '05. Size 4.5mm needles.

I love Sharon Miller's patterns: they are clear; they are easy to follow; they look "stunning". My only complaint is that I don't like Kidsilk Haze knitted on 5mm needles, which is what the pattern calls for. I prefer a greater contrast between the "holes" and the "solid bits". The remedy is in my hands - I just use a smaller needle. Knitter's choice. I almost managed to knit this whole thing without tinkering with the pattern (but not quite!).

The top border is knitted on at the end, first from one side, then from the other, and the five stitches are seamed at the centre back neck. In my wisdom, I decided I should leave the two sets of five stitches live and graft them. I sometimes think I should be in one of those cults where they wear hairshirts and wrap barbed wire round their tender parts. I decided to graft when I didn't need to? What is wrong with me?

I just thought it would look better (and it's only five stitches, right?) I don't think it came out too badly:



In fact, I don't think you can see where it is, and for that I have to thank Knitty again, for these fantastic instructions on grafting.

Just in case that's not enough for you, here is the Ab Fab throw, my Christmas present to myself and my first FO of 2005:



"Absolutely Fabulous" throw from Colinette. Various yarns. Size 7.5mm bamboo circs.
Started 4th January '05. Finished 19th January '05

Not too shabby.

The Jury is Back

Yes, the jury is back on starting with 3 stitches and working up to 299 or starting with 299 and working down to 3. It is definitely better to start with 299. Why I didn't know this instinctively from the outset no-one can say. Who on earth wants to put themselves through longer and longer rows? I am positively whirling along on the Birch Shawl. There are still no pictures. The camera is still somewhere in Egypt.

In my general flapping about in cyberspace the other day I came upon this lovely afghan (side note: why is it called an "Afghan"? It looks like a blanket to me.)




Here's a close-up of the blue fish:




The "recipe" for this delight can be found here.

I think I'm going to have a go. It's not like a haven't got enough on the needles at the moment, now is it?

#1 daughter bought this for 'im indoors:



It's the "Rippit-Rippit" Frog!

You take out the stick and run it along the bumps on the back. Like so:



and he makes that characteristic noise, the fear of all knitters. Rippit, rippit.
I cannot think of a better present for a knitter and I so want this frog! I am allowed to make the noise, though thankfully it hasn't been used too much of late.

More old knitted stuff

Many years ago, I designed and knitted this waistcoat for 'im indoors:



Yes, he does still wear it.

Fair Isle knitting went into abeyance for years, until the onset of cyberspace and I decided to join in Wendy's knitalong for Fair Isle newbies. I'm not sure the pattern is still available but this was my re-introduction to Fair Isle knitting and my very first experience of steeking. Given my abhorence of sewing, the steek is a fundamental part of my knitting armoury. Scary at first (chocolate and wine needed) but oh, so satisfying afterwards.

This was the result:




And for those of you interested, here's a shot of the "private" side:




Looks pretty neat, don't you think?

I once went to an exhibition of Kaffe Fassett's work at the Victoria and Albert Museum and all I wanted to do was to look at the "private" side of the work. Of course, you weren't allowed to touch the exhibits, so the only way you could see the private side was where a V-neck sweater was shown hanging on a pole through the sleeves. From what I could see, it looked a total mess. Knots, even! My stitching teacher told me the back should look as neat as the front - she would have been appalled. I hope MY private side will pass muster.

It's not just shawls

I got to thinking about my very favourite FO. Which of my many finished objects is the one that gives me the most pleasure? It changes from day to day - it's often the last thing off the needles.

Many years ago (in 1987, to be exact) 'im indoors bought me a book. It was this book:



Richard Rutt, the then Bishop of Leicester, was taught to knit by his grandfather at the age of 7. He gave up knitting completely for twenty years when he was working in Korea. On return to England he suffered a sort of "reverse culture shock" and started knitting again to counteract this. Finding there was no record of the history of handknitting, he wrote one himself. This book is the result. It has been long out of print but is now available again. The picture on the front is not the same. I don't know why they do that. Would you want to buy a book with a picture of four people in funny hats knitting? No, you'd much rather have the one with the Bishop wearing his own-design Estonian Jacket, wouldn't you?

In all the pre-publication publicity (try saying that after a few glasses of Shiraz), he was prevailed upon to make the pattern available. I had to have it. It's made in Rowan yarns of various descriptions. Now Rowan's not cheap and then it was not only expensive, it was very difficult to obtain. I was living in Italy, where it was close to impossible to get Rowan - though not to find oodles of other beautiful yarns, as my stash can testify. I spent months trying to find the yarns. In Bristol, we have some of the yarns, but not all. In Manchester, we have all the yarns, but not in the right colours. In London, we have some of the yarns in some of the colours. There were times when I was in despair. I never thought I'd get it done. But I did and it's still worn, almost twenty years later:



It's knitted cuff-to-cuff in two pieces and joined with a three needles bind off up the centre back:



If I was making this now, I'd graft the seam (much as Kitchener Stitch always requires deep breathing and chanting during and wine and chocolate after). It doesn't look too bad, does it?

Yes, I'm still knitting on the "Birch" shawl (co-incidentally, so is Stephanie) and no, there are still no photos. The camera has gone on holiday to Egypt with #1 son and #1 daughter (the sum total of all my numbers) and if it comes back with sand in it my total numbers may well be reduced to a big fat ZERO.

Shawl Obsessed?

Someone (and I'm sorry I can't remember who) pointed out that I might be a little bit "shawl obsessed". It's true that I have made a lot of shawls, but I didn't make my first one until 2 or 3 years ago and I've been knitting for 40 years.

That big "four 0" looks horrible written down - I didn't think I was that old. I always thought my first teacher, a wonderful lady by the name of Mrs Allen, taught me to knit; turns out it was the woman in the chip shop. All this time I've been harbouring romantic thoughts of me sitting at the front of the class and Mrs Allen interrupting the story-telling session to sort out my dropped stitches, when in reality it was, "A bag of chips? There you are. Don't forget it's in, over, through, off." All romantic notions are now shattered. Thank you, mother.

I digress. I haven't always knitted shawls and to prove it here is the five-year-sweater:



It's called the five-year-sweater because that's about how long it took me to make.

I originally bought the denim cotton at Bobbins in Whitby. I bought the pattern and I set about it with a will. If you look at the pattern you'll see it is only supposed to be patterned on the yoke section. I couldn't bear the thought of all that plain stocking stitch, so I decided to do the pattern all the way up, both front and back. (See, I've never been able to just do the pattern, there always has to be a bit of input from me. Some people call this meddling, I call it individuality.)

Somehow, for some reason that I still don't understand I went off knitting. Yes, that's right. I just stopped knitting one day and took to cross-stitch and embroidery, a bit of quilting but never the crochet. I can but I don't. Years later, I found the bits of the sweater, still on the needles. I thought I might as well finish it, so I did and there it is.

What this picture doesn't show is where I crossed one of the cables the wrong way, slap bang in the centre of the back. Now I know how to snip the yarn in the middle of the cable and cross it the right way. If you want to learn how to do it look at this excellent article by Judy Gibson . Of course, then I didn't know, so the cable stayed as it was. (It's a design feature, I tell you.) It's been washed so many times over the years and is starting to fade like a pair of jeans, just like they said it would, that I think uncrossing and recrossing the "correct" way would just make the boo-boo more obvious, so I've left it as it is. Let the knitting police stop me if they dare!

Clare's present is almost finished but then I ran out of yarn, which could have been the result of my mis-reading the pattern and making the secret thing slightly (but only slightly) larger than the original. It could also be a result of sloppy editing, or writing or something. Whatever it is, it did necessitate a trip to the LYS, where I see Nicky has printed out my "Knitting Police" post and put it up in the shop, so everyone can have a good laugh. Thanks, Nicky.

I've done two repeats of the "Birch Shawl", which is simplicity itself. Great TV knitting.

Did you look at that picture? What does she look like? It drives me bonkers when they take "fashion shots" of knitting. Don't they know we want to look at the pattern; we want to compare it with what's on the needles; we want to be able to see how much ease is allowed, if the pattern doesn't tell us. I feel like shouting, "Stop lounging about in that field and stand up straight, now turn round, and put your arms out while you're at it." Yes, I like to see knitting photographed on real people (and by that I mean real people, not stick insects) but I also like to be able to see the knitting.

Hello! Rowan (chief offender), Colinette (even worse), anybody listening?

She is finished

Blocking, blocking, blocked:



There she is, in all her glory. I apologize for the fearful picture. I let 'im indoors loose with the camera. You know that thing about the monkey and the typewriter and Shakespeare? and how it would never happen in a million years? I give you 'im indoors' ability with the camera:



Note the way the bottom point is so elegantly displayed.

In fairness to him, it was raining and the sky was about as dark as the apocalypse and that's the only excuse I can offer.

There are no pictures of the blocking. I use a heavy white cotton bedspread with a blue check pattern on it, laid on the floor. You can imagine that the shawl didn't show up too well. Some people hate blocking. I love it. I love the way you start with a damp mass of wool and end with the glorious lace. I love the crawling about on the floor and checking to see if it's straight. I love the standing back and marvelling, "Did I make that??"

What I do not love are the thousands of pins. I do not love the stray pin which, like the teaspoon at the bottom of the washing-up bowl, is always there, somewhere, ready to stab you. Stephanie hates blocking. Her friend told her to use a piece of cotton to run through the edges of her shawl and stop that "swoop" that happens between the pins. Someone told me about this but advised using fishing line. I didn't think it would work but I went off to the fishing tackle shop and bought some. The chap's face was a picture as I tried to explain why I wanted it. I threaded it through the edges; I threaded it through the 156 picots; I pulled it; I put in about 50 pins and it worked! Pre fishing line days I would have used about 500 pins on something like this so let's hear it for fishing line. There isn't even any need to cut the line, so you can use it again and again.

Vital statistics:

Heirloom Shawl
Pattern from Canadian Living Magazine
Yarn: 7 25g balls Jamieson & Smith Shetland 2-ply lace-weight wool Shade: Optic White Lot #: 01549/a
Total weight: 168g
Needles: 3.5mm circular
Blocked length:(back neck to bottom point) 120cm (47in)
"Wingspan": 240cm (97in)
Started: 17/02/05
Finished: 20/05/05

So that's it. I feel bereft.

The Last Row is the Hardest

Ain't that the truth. The cast-off row of the Heirloom Shawl is long, long, long. We are trying to form a picot edge. We know that we are storing trouble up for ourselves in the blocking stage, but we do it anyway.

Basically, you cast off a few, cast on a few, cast off a few more and so on, and on, and on. I started this task yesterday afternoon. I started off thinking I needed to do the cast off very loosely. I tried that and it looked like a three-year-old's attempts at knitting. (Not that I have anything against three-year-olds but you know what I mean.) That had to come out. Realisation slowly dawned. In the picot forming part, you have to cast off tightly. In the cast off and move along the edge part, you have to cast off loosely. I don't think it came out too badly:


Edging

However, it did go on. By tea-time I was looking for displacement activities. I even considered cleaning the bathroom but discounted that as a step too far. Eventually, at 10.45am on Friday, 20th May I cast off the very last stitch. Now, it's not blocked, and it's not a brilliant picture, but, for what it's worth, here it is:



Heirloom Shawl unblocked

I took a few close-ups:



Heirloom Shawl Centre Back Motif Close-up


Bottom Point

Blocking will take place this weekend and "proper" pictures of the finished article will be posted on Monday.

Selvedges

I'm still worried about the knitting police. I'm worried that they will look at the selvedge of the Heirloom Shawl:



and have a fit.

Now, this selvedge is a twisted knit stitch on the "public" side (that's what others might call the "right" side) and a purl on the "private" side (you guessed, that's what most people call the "wrong" side.)

I don't like it. I don't know if it's my lack of skill in getting the tension right; I don't know if it's the skinny needles; I don't know if it will all come good in the blocking. I certainly hope so.

In the spirit of learning what we can from our mistakes, I investigated other possible selvedges. I did this far too late. I can't do anything about it now, but maybe next time.

I looked in Montse Stanley's "The Handknitter's Handbook", which is my techniques resource of choice. She details about thirteen or fourteen different selvedge treatments, but nothing seemed quite right.

I then turned my attention to Myrna Stahman's "Stahman's Shawls & Scarves" and there I found the "Chain Selvedge", as she calls it. I had a little practise with some nice thick wool and needles that weren't skinny, and this is what I got:



slip 1 purlwise wyif

Now that looks a whole lot better, don't you think? So, lesson learned, I think.

Despite the less than satisfactory edge, the shawl is coming along well. Here's picture of the snowdrop that appeared in the border:




Here you can clearly see the red crochet cotton I've been using as a running yarn marker. You can see how the beginning of the repeat changes sometimes, which almost threw me into a panic, but I resisted and I got over it.

Little progress today - knitting madly on the birthday present for Clare - but only the garter stitch border to go.

Watch this space.

The Knitting Police

I've just returned from my LYS and I am still shaking with laughter. I was in Shipston Needlecraft, chatting away to Nickie and Jane, showing off the final stages off the Heirloom Shawl. I pointed out that I'm not so terribly keen on the selvedge, which is a twisted knit stitch on the right side and a purl on the wrong side, but anyway, I'm sure it will be fine when it's blocked and I don't suppose the Knitting Police will be running down the street after me saying, "That doesn't look like the picture."

I left them at the front of the shop and went down to the "Wool Room" (where else?), which is tucked away right at the back of the shop. I was browsing around in there when I heard the crackle of a radio. Suddenly, a burly policeman appeared and said (and I quote), "Excuse me, madam, there have been reports of some badly executed knitting and we need to investigate further. If you'd like to come with me - and bring your knitting bag." Whereupon Nicky appeared, roaring with laughter. She'd set me up, good and proper. She'd spotted the policeman walking down the street, rushed out, explained the situation and asked him to "Be a sport".

Well, it made my day. I'm still laughing now.

You'll notice the "Weather Pixie" has appeared. This is mainly a sop to "'im indoors" (who shall remain nameless due to his complete paranoia about cyberspace.) Yes, he's paranoid all right. Apparently, I'm to beware of "trolls" - what is this - the Three Little Billy Goats Gruff? It seems a troll is someone who repeatedly leaves nasty comments on blogs. Well, I don't know. I'd be glad if anyone left a comment, troll or not.

Not only is he paranoid, he is also completely obsessed with the weather. We must watch the weather forecast; we must listen to the weather forecast; we must look up the weather forecast on the web. Number One Daughter once asked,"If Daddy wants to know what the weather's like, why doesn't he look out of the window?" (Out of the mouths of babes, don't you think?) I didn't think he'd noticed this blog, but this morning as I went down the garden path to help him bring the shopping in, I happened to say it was a bit chilly, despite the sunshine. "Yes," he replied, "the wind is from the north-east, 5.9mph."

So, he's been sneaking looks!

True to form, as the end of the Heirloom Shawl draws near, I've cast on for another project. No pictures yet - partly because I've only done two rows, partly because it's a present for my friend, Clare and I do not want to let the cat out of the bag. (There may be a clue in there somewhere.)

Nearly Done

The Heirloom Shawl is almost done. Little snowdrops are appearing in the border. This was something of a surprise to me, what with no chart and only that one picture from the pattern. Only about 10 more rows to go. There are 605 stitches on the needle, so progress is not swift.

Slow progress at this stage suits me, though. I often knit like a maniac on a large project until I'm within sight of the finishing post and then I slow right down. I do the same thing when I'm reading a really good book, I want to finish it but I don't want to finish it. With the knitting I think it's something to do with the way a project changes from being a WIP - it's all mine and I'm in charge - to being an FO - it's out there for all to see and somehow it's not "mine" anymore.

The result of this is that I often slip in a small project in the final stages of a larger project. I made the Kokopelli Bag:



in the final stages of the first "Frost and Ice" shawl:



Kokopelli Bag designed by Teva Durham, pattern in Interweave Knits Summer '03. Made using Rowan Kid Classic and 9mm Addi needles.

Frost and Ice Shawl designed by Sharon Miller at Heirloom Knitting, part of the Simply Stunning Collection. Made using Rowan Kidsilk Haze on 4.5mm needles.

So maybe I'm coming to the "Let's do a small project to put off the end" stage.

So what small project will it be? Maybe a scarf, maybe another bag? Hmm.

Best quote I heard all week-end:

"Taking LSD is like going to Stratford on Avon, you only have to do it once" John Peel, quoted by Andy Kershaw in a programme on BBC Radio 3 but heard by me on BBC Radio 4's "Pick of the Week".

I live about 5 miles south of Stratford, and, quite frankly, wouldn't care if I never went there again. (Though the RSC isn't bad.)

Knitting from Charts

I'm still knitting away on the Heirloom Shawl and now I've got to the bottom border, where the pattern changes. This pattern has been teaching me quite a lot (in a tearing my hair out sort of way).

One thing I've learned is I'd rather knit from charts (who knew?)

Once upon a time there was a knitter who didn't like knitting from charts. This knitter was a word person, not a picture person. Then this knitter decided that there were lots of beautiful lace patterns out there and many of them were charted. So this knitter decided she'd better learn to love charts. Not being one to resist a challenge (you've heard that before, right?) she decided to start with this:



The Siberian Winter Shaw from Blackberry Ridge.

This pattern comes with both the chart and the words, so she thought that would be a good place to start. She put herself on her honour to read the charts not the words, and it nearly killed her, but she did it.

Then the knitter decided she needed to learn more about knitting from charts. So she decided to knit this:



Flirty Ruffles from Fiddlesticks Knitting

There were no words (except right at the very beginning) but she persevered and she made it. (Many congratulations to Dorothy at Fiddlesticks for the clarity of her charts.)

Then she decided she needed to read something about knitting from charts (she's a word person, remember?), so she did some research and came across this and it all fell into place.

So that's the story of how I learned to knit from charts

The Saga of the Ankle

So, the other day I missed my footing near the bottom of the stairs and twisted my ankle. Off to the hospital to have it checked out, taking with me the pink entrelac socks-in-progress:



These are being knitted on skinny little steel needles that I snapped up in the charity shop (aka "The Boutique").

Yarn is Jaeger Baby Merino DK bought at Shipston Needlecraft. They don't have a website but their sister shop Burford Needlecraft does. This is my first attempt at entrelac and never being one to resist a challenge, I jumped right in with a pattern which says, "Recommended for knitters with experience knitting entrelac". The pattern is in "Socks, Socks, Socks" (I only give you this link because it includes the "look inside" option - naturally, you wouldn't actually buy it from there, would you? Well, you might if you were in the US. Oh, shut up, Kate.)

Anyway, turns out the ankle is not broken, thank goodness, just badly sprained. "Do you have to go to work?" "Yes." "Can you rest it at work?" Huge snort from me. "Fat chance." So that's why I'm sitting with the foot up:



instead of dashing round "The Bell" as I usually do.

Foot above seen sporting the "False Flame Crew Socks", also from the 3xSocks book and made with Rowan Wool Cotton on 3.25mm dpns.

This means I've had ample opportunity to tear my hair out over the Heirloom Shawl:



which really doesn't look much at the moment, does it? To me, that's part of the joy of knitting lace - it looks like a crumpled old rag until the blocking stage when it is suddenly revealed in all its ethereal beauty.

I did have too many stitches in the centre section and was wondering if the pattern wasn't wrong (again). It turns out that I had forgotten to do a K2tog on the previous row. That was easily sorted. I just took back the two stitches, knitted them together with the strand now lying at the back and carried on.

Years ago, I used to tink right back to where the mistake was and knit it all again. Now I move heaven and earth to avoid tinking, much less frogging. Results are usually good, sometimes not perfect but I've also learned to stop worrying too much about a tiny mistake. It's not like the knitting police are walking around stopping people saying, "That doesn't look like the picture." It is a design element, I tell you.

Heather left a comment (Thanks, Heather!) asking if I'd thought of emailing the designer. Good idea, but been there, done that. First I emailed Canadian Living magazine, received a very nice, very prompt reply, telling me my email had been forwarded to the designer. I also had a reply from there too. The gist of which was if I wanted the chart I could buy Patons leaflet #whatever. Well, thanks a lot. I knew that. I also knew that the chart itself was littered with errors, so I'm hardly likely to splash out good money on something I've already got, am I?

It was also interesting that the designer left all the previous correspondence on the bottom of her email. The one from the magazine simply said, "Here's another question about the pattern." (My emphasis) So that one little word tells quite a story, no?

I leave you with a close up of the centre section of the Heirloom Shawl, now back on track:

I've put the mouth on it

What were the very last words I wrote? Something like "It seems to be going along quite well at the moment."

This in reference to the "Heirloom Shawl" from Canadian Living Magazine. Well, wash my mouth out with soap! I've finished Panel VII, the stitch count is spot on. I've got the border stitches, I've got the 8 29stitch pattern repeats and I've got the few centre stitches, then I've got the whole lot again for the other half of the shawl. I've got quite a few stitches. I don't know exactly how many and I don't think I want to know, lest heart failure strike.

So now we move smoothly on to Panel VIII and it doesn't fit! The borders and pattern repeats are fine but I find I have too many stiches in the centre section. The corrections are little help. So, do I just wing it and add in extra yos and K1Bs or what? Or do I just knit the "extra" stitches and hope it all works out on the next row? I suppose I can always put in another yo on the next row by lifting the strand between the two offending stitches and knitting it then. I've been thinking about this all the time and it's driving me bonkers. I may have to resort to a lifeline but I always think that's a bit like working on the high wire with a safety net. I mean, who wants to see that? No, we want to see acts of daring.

Last night, a small voice came out of the kitchen. "Mummy, why have you got wool in the freezer?"

There's no answer to that.

The Handover

So off we went to The Farrier's Arms and had the most delightful dinner. The bag was handed over and Caroline looks pretty pleased, don't you think?


Caroline's got the bag!

I've spent most of the day joining the Fiber Arts webring. (I still can't get used to spelling Fiber like that - it's "fibre" in Britspeak.) Can I get the button to show up on the blog? Well, do you see it? No, thought not.

Added later:I've got the button in the sidebar! BUT it doesn't work. Don't even think of clicking on it. Teething troubles. I can do this.

This blogging lark can eat up enormous amounts of knitting time. I had to tear myself away to put a few rows on the "Heirloom Shawl" from Canadian Living magazine. I'm knitting this for Margaret (Caroline's Mum) from Shetland 2 ply in white. Yarn available from Jamieson & Smith. It's a very pretty pattern but it is riddled with mistakes. I found some corrections here but it's not a big help, as the corrections assume you have the chart and I've only got the text version. Things improved mightily when I put some markers between the pattern repeats and made sure I counted the stitches on every "plain" row. So it's going along quite well at the moment.

Steep Learning Curve

I've managed to post pictures. Correction: A picture. I've managed to post a link to the Buttonhole Bag pattern and I've managed to put a link to Knitty in the sidebar.

You aren't interested in my managing? I thought as much - where's the knitting?

Flushed with the success of the first Buttonhole Bag and spurred on by Caroline's birthday speeding towards me, I went rooting through the stash and found this:



Some ancient 100% wool I bought in the charity shop. It's obviously ancient - do Emu still make wool?

and turned it into this



The finished product

It will be handed over this evening, when the girls go out for dinner. Hope Caroline isn't taking a sneek peek (hardly likely - I haven't told anyone about this blog yet.)

First Post

Well, at least it's not the last post.

Does the world really need another knitting blog?

Well, no - but you're getting one anyway. I'm not doing this for you, gentle reader, I'm doing this for me. I spend a great deal of time knitting and I sometimes feel as if it's to little purpose. I'm starting this blog in an attempt to make myself more disciplined in the organization of my projects. I'm hoping that this will mean an end to returning to WIPs (often years later) and finding myself trying to decipher various squiggles on little bits of paper. That's if I can find the bits of paper.

So what's Kate doing now? Well, she's just finished this:



It's my very first Buttonhole Bag. I made it using some thick and thin 100% wool called "Ghost" that I bought in Turin last year. The yarn sat around for months while it tried to decide what it wanted to be. It had various incarnations, but nothing was right.

When I found this pattern I just knew it was the right thing to do. I think it's rather swish and I've made several more since then.