Heels and Toes

Having finished the Jack Sparrow socks for 'im indoors, I have now embarked upon a second pair for #1 son. I'm using a different colourway to avoid the inevitable, "You're wearing my socks!" from one or other of them:



I may also make more modifications to the pattern (which I hardly followed at all for the first pair).

I used short row toes and heels just because there's no Turkish Cast-On and therefore no contortions and there's no grafting, either. Short rows? Easy, no? Well, yes. Easy, but there are several ways of doing short rows. You couldn't do better than look at Nona's series of posts about this very topic (as I did). First she talks about the wrapped stitch short row. This is the classic one; if you even know what a short row is, this is probably the one you know. It's the one I know and it's the one I normally use.

Then she speaks about the yarn over short row. I haven't actually tried this method, so I really have no room to talk, have I?

Lastly, she writes about the Japanese short row (which also appears in my bible, Montse Stanley's "Hand Knitter's Handbook" as the "catch" method). I thought I might give this a go. Nona's method uses safety pins (and if anyone knows a source of coil-less safety pins, would they please speak up), though Montse Stanley doesn't - she just expects you to identify which loop to pick up with the naked eye. I was wrapping 13 stitches on each side of the central 10 stitches for the heel, which meant I had 26 safety pins hanging off the knitting like some crazed punk rocker in days of yore. After I rid myself of all the metalwork, I really couldn't tell the difference between the Japanese short row heel and the regular wrapped stitch short row heel, possibly because I'm using black for the toes and heels and you can't see a thing anyway. End of experiment and back to my regular short row method.

The trouble with short row heels is that they can make the sock difficult to put on, particularly if the wearer has a high instep as 'im indoors has. If I had only looked back over my notes for the Rainbow Socks, I would have seen that "The heel is worked over more than half the total stitches to allow for a high instep." Plagued with latter wit (as my dad used to say).

With the second pair of Jack Sparrow's I'm thinking about using a modified short row heel which also incorporates a gusset and has a heel flap on the sole, which I saw on the Lots of Yarn blog. I'm about to start that now, so watch this space.

I'm obsessed with socks. The latest edition of "The Knitter" has a pattern for Spiralling Socks, shown in a rainbow colourway. Very zizzy (tt). I couldn't resist. Google was my friend and I found the yarn (Zauberball from Schoppel Wolle) at Modern Knitting, a company I have never come across before. I ordered one ball of the Tropical Fish and one of Fuchsia, mainly because I got free shipping over £16 (though I now see that has risen to £18). I ordered late on Friday evening and imagine my surprise when a small package was flung in through the open door of my kitchen this morning followed by a cheery, "More yarn?". Isn't the Royal Mail marvellous?

Too much writing, too few pictures?

Back Field this morning:



(Raw materials dots in the background)

Sweetcorn:



'Im indoors says it should be "Knee-high by the 4th of July" (said in what he considers to be a Southern drawl). If anyone can shed light on the origin of this pearl of wisdom I'd be very grateful. I suppose it all depends how high your knee is - it's just about up to mine now.)

Cotton really is the Devil's work

Some one asked me to finish a denim jumper for her husband. (In fact, it's the same woman with the Soay sheep.) She's done the back and part of the front. I managed to match her gauge - though I had to drop three needle sizes (as you all know, I am the original loose woman). I'd forgotten just how fearful cotton is to work with - stiff, unforgiving of any slight irregularity in tension, and the ends just won't stay hidden. Anyway, it's done:



The pattern is from Rowan Denim and is called "Boatman", designed by Kim Hargreaves (according to Ravelry - I can't actually find any credits). If she was responsible for the making up instructions, she should be ashamed. They are dreadful. "Use a back stitch for all main knitting seams and an edge to edge stitch for all ribs unless otherwise stated." I don't think so. I used ladder stitch and here you can('t) see it:



I also used short row shaping on the shoulders and did a three needle bind off on the right side:



This is the armhole shaping (which, strangely, was written K3 tog - a right slanting decrease - at the beginning of the row and K3 tog tbl - a left slanting decrease - at the end). Needless to say, I did SSSK at the beginning of the row and K3 tog at the end, so at least the decreases are slanting in the right direction.



Anyway, I'm not going to be knitting any more cotton for a very long time.

Have you heard of the UK Ravelry Day? Only of interest if you are actually in the UK of course. Well, Jo (who's idea it was in the first place) has asked me to teach a lace knitting class. "Oh, yes," I said blithely "No problem". Then I found out who else was going to be there - Meg Swansen, Beth Brown Reinsel, Jared Flood (aka Brooklyn Tweed) amongst others. Crikey! Am I up to the job?

Now I'm starting to panic that no-one will sign up or that I'll forget how to knit or that I'll break my thumb before the day or that I'll dry up totally. I don't know what's wrong with me - I've read stories to 250 kids all in one room together; I've taught engineers, lawyers, airline pilots, journalists, police officers (not the knitting police officers) and all sorts. What is proving to be more difficult is actually narrowing down what I'm going to teach and what I'm going to leave out. Once you get me started on lace knitting I could go on for days (but I promise not to).

Here are the raw materials lurking in the back field, enough to calm anyone down:

Resting on my laurels?

You may think I've been resting on my laurels but I assure you I've been doing no such thing. Someone asked me if I would knit "something " for her and she gave me a tiny photocopy of a waistcoat thingie (technical term). That's the trouble with being a knitter - non-knitters think you can work miracles. Remember that old joke? "My mother made me a homosexual." "If I buy the wool, will she make me one, too?" - I felt a bit like that knitter.

Considering that's all I had to go off, I think I did a good job. Here's the front:



and a close-up of the cable:



The collar presented certain difficulties. It looked very Elizabethan (the first one, not the present one) - standing up, a little ruff-like. The yarn I was using (Rowan Pure Wool Aran) was fairly sturdy before it was washed but after washing it turned a little "floppy" (tt). I had to work the collar double to make it stand up as it was supposed to do:



So I picked up and knitted stitches around the neckline and then worked double the length required. I then picked up the corresponding stitch from the base of the collar and worked that stitch together with the next stitch on my left needle. When I had two stitches on the right needle, I cast off in the normal way. Sometimes when I do this I work a purl row on the right side when the collar is the correct length and before I start working the "inside" of the collar. This acts as a fold line and makes the collar crisper. I didn't do that in this case because I wanted the collar to be softer and more rounded at the top.

The cast off edge of the armhole band also presented problems. I cast off three times and it just didn't look right. I tried a backstitch cast off - thread about three times the length of the edge to be cast off into a blunt pointed tapestry needle; put the needle into the first two stitches purlwise; pull yarn through but do not drop the stitches; put the needle into the first stitch knitwise; drop the stitch off the knitting needle; pull the yarn through and repeat. It looked like a dog's breakfast. I tried an Italian sewn cast off. It looked dreadful. I tried a sort of kitchener cast off using this marvelous explanation. This is a link to a post on Ravelry and I apologize if you are not able to access it but I have never really understood quite what I was doing with the Kitchener Stitch and now I do. In spite of the fact that I now know all there is to know about grafting - that didn't look good either. Eventually, I used a modified version of the two row cast off - first row in single rib and pull the knits over the purls as in a normal cast off; second row, slip each stitch purlwise onto left needle and pull the previous one over - no yarn used up. I don't think this looks too bad:



If anyone can suggest a better cast off for a 2x1 rib I am all ears.

There are twelve buttons:



and that's eight of them.

No sooner was that off the needles when I had a call from someone else. This lady has her own Soay sheep; she has her own Soay yarn and she wants me to knit it into a little "something" for her and her husband. Details of this will have to wait for another day but things are progressing.

Oh, and look what reappeared in my back field:



Better than a mean old horse anyday, wouldn't you say?

Haven't we been here before?

Just when we thought we'd had the last of the snow, back it came. They went to school; I went to work - we were all back by lunchtime. I wouldn't have wanted to leave it any longer. This was the "main road" in my village yesterday:



The Church:



and the back field:



Nothing to do but sit and knit.

The sock yarn blanket is up to 410 squares - I would say it is about a third done. My pair snuggled up under it:



More pictures:



(I think that might be upside down - some of you may wish to stand on your head for a proper look.)

Close-up of one of the squares:



(Right way up - stand normally now.)

I've also been knitting a Cabled Waistcoat (or "Vest"). A friend of mine asked if I would knit something for her. She then produced a small, dark image of a waistcoat. I have done the best I can to reproduce it.

A front:



The cable is the Celtic Plait from the Harmony "Ultimate Sourcebook of Knitting and Crochet Stitches"

The Back:



I know it looks quite small but it's 2 x 1 rib, so very stretchy. It also looks short; that is because there is a deep (like six inches deep) band of rib around the bottom of the garment.

The yarn had to be: aran weight; natural colour; 100% natural fibre and machine washable. I settled on Rowan Pure Wool Aran because it ticks all the boxes. I'm using 4.5mm needles and I used Knitware Design to give me an outline of the pattern but I changed it quite a bit because it's shorter, double-breasted, has a much longer collar, is much lower in front and has that band of ribbing round the bottom - just about the only thing that remains from the original is the armhole shaping.

I'm slightly stalled now because it's time to start the button holes on the other front and I want to get the buttons first. I haven't made it to the button shop yet - see first picture, above - but I'm hoping to get there this afternoon.

I leave you with a sunny back field:

As Promised

Here, then, as promised are pictures of Fulmar.

The front:



Close-up of some cables:



Close-up of the welt:



I cannot say I am particularly impressed with the pattern transition from welt to body. It doesn't exactly flow - the one stops; the other starts. I would have thought Ms Starmore might have given this kind of design issue some thought considering she is so very precious about her work -remember all that performance about people being told off for mentioning her name in their Ebay auctions? There's an article from the Seattle Times if you are faintly interested. Personally, I'd rather be knitting. I wonder if one of these is winging its way to me, even as I type?

The back is also finished and looks remarkably similar to the front. I have started the one sleeve:



The going is extremely slow (but slightly faster now I've got the hang of making cables without recourse to a cable needle) because, in order to get the correct gauge, I find myself using 2.5mm needles. I am, in effect, knitting an Aran jumper on sock needles. What possessed me? Why do I put myself through it? It is a beautiful pattern. What can I say?

This is last week's back field, taken by #1 daughter, who is quite handy with a camera:



We are threatened with snow on Monday and if that comes to pass, I'll certainly give you a picture.

I'm obsessed

I'm obsessed with the sock yarn blanket. It's growing like Topsy. I keep thinking, "Just one more square and then I'll go to bed/do the washing up/cook the dinner/go to work" (delete as appropriate).

We are up to ninety-seven squares. It sounds a lot but it doesn't look much:





I did say that I would just go and buy the sock yarn but I went whizzing into my LYS the other day, only to find a very limited supply of Regia and plenty of ultra-costly Araucania. Needless to say, I didn't bite. Jo's shop, Crafty Cottage, in Warwick has closed down (boo-hoo!), so no joy there. It's ordering on-line or begging from my readers. I'm not above begging, so if you really can't help yourself - send sock yarn!

I am taking the green star shawl very slowly, possibly because of the aforementioned obsession, and am at round 54. No picture - it's the usual lace knitter's photographic nightmare - a pile of dental floss. In this case it's olive green but to all intents and purposes, it's dental floss.

The Wrap Me Up Wrap is blocking even as I write:

Here's the picot hem:



This is the ruffle:



and here's a lace rib panel:



It's taking much longer to dry than a lace shawl, so it's good that today has been the hottest day of the year to date (69F). I'm sorry I can't do the temperature in centigrade- I had my head round it perfectly when I lived in Italy but when I bought 'im indoors a fancy thermometer with indoor and outdoor readings and he set it to Fahrenheit - well, that was it. I don't know if I'm coming or going. Suffice it to say that today was hot and the wrap is drying nicely. It should be dry by tomorrow and then it's just a case of putting an edging on the long sides and a dragon's tooth edging on one of the short ends and I am done. Just in time for it to be too warm to wear.

Spring appears to have sprung here in the rural backwater - I leave you with the back field "in the green".



(Later in the day my "friends" were lurking but I gave them a very wide berth.)

Ready for the Steek (eek!)

I am almost up to the point where I need to add on the stitches for the armhole steeks on the Kauni jumper. I'm not quite sure how many stitches to add on - not so many that I use up lots of yarn and have bulky facings to fold back at the end; not so few that the whole thing unravels as soon as look at it. Six? Eight? or an odd number?

I suppose I'd better read about it for a while before I actually do anything.

Wendy Johnson tells us something about the Norwegian steek in Knitty here (but the Norwegians, hardy people that they are, do not seem to be adding any stitches for the steek. I don't fancy that idea.) There is more about steeks here, where she uses 10 extra stitches to allow room for the cutting. Then there is Eunny Jang and I think this is the best explanation of steeks, ever. She says, "Unreinforced and sewn steeks are typically worked with an even number of bridge stitches and cut between the center two stitches, while crocheted steeks are typically worked with an odd number of bridge stitches and cut through the center stitch." I'm thinking unreinforced, because I'm using a very "sticky" (technical term) wool, so I'd need to add on an even number of stitches (quite how many I'm not sure).

There were meant to be pictures here but Blogger (new, improved) is not playing and I am fed up with it.

The Kauni jumper is looking good, although I fear I may have to join the yarn again because we are running into two balls of orange, in the same place at the same time. Bah, humbug.

Latest update! Blogger has relented.

Here is progress on the Scroll-y jumper:



and, even though I know it is now Wednesday (and possibly even Thursday in some far-flung corners of the world), this is the back field as it was on Saturday:



Oh, and another thought: if you are on Ravelry would you please leave a comment and tell me your user name? I know there are lots of people on there who I would love to look at but I find the search facility to be a bit specific. (It will find "theyarnharlot" but not "yarn harlot" or "harlot" or "Stephanie McPhee" or "Stephanie Pearl McPhee".)

It's only been a week

It's been a week since "The Great Flood" and you really wouldn't know that anything bad had happened where we are. Here's the back field, looking quite normal:



Those horses would have been swimming last week. (The whole thing put me in mind of "Three Ha'Pence a Foot" - you must imagine this recited in a broad Lancashire accent - where the vowels are all very round.)

We were very lucky and the house was unaffected. There are thousands of people in the area who are still clearing up; who still have no clean, running water in their homes; who are still tearing up sodden carpets and throwing out furniture.

I am still knitting on the cardigan from hell. (I will take pictures of this thing once the trauma has abated. I'm pleased with the way I joined the shoulder seams - that's about all I'm pleased with, though.) I have finished the hellish part, however, and am now whirling down the sleeves with gay abandon. I don't know who designed this pattern (well I do, because it was written right there on the sheet of paper that is all the "pattern"consists of, but I don't want to embarrass the woman, so will refrain from mentioning her name.) The point is, we are making a sleeve, from the top down, in the round and we are instructed to "decrease one stitch every fourth round until 57 stitches remain". I don't know about you, but I don't do sleeves that way. I do a double decrease (either a slip 2 together, knit 1, pass the two slipped stitches over; or two paired single decreases on each side of a central "seam" stitch on the underside of the sleeve) and let that be an end of it - and a much neater end, in my opinion.

I've got so fed up with this pattern that I am just doing my own thing. While I understand that I have a certain responsibility to the woman who is paying me to knit this, I also know that she will be very happy with whatever I do, so long as the finished item a) fits and b) bears a passing resemblance to what she originally saw in the shop all those years ago.

So, because I am so fed up and because, if you know anything about me at all, you will know that getting to the end of a long-ish (technical term) project provokes a certain amount of panic, I have slipped in a quick finish project:



This is a pattern that was posted on the shawl knitters list (and just as quickly un-posted). It was a very quick knit and the perfect present for my mother-in-law, who is getting on in years and feels the cold, but doesn't like to have her arms constrained. I used some Sirdar Denim Sport Aran that was in the stash and needles that were a bit too big for my comfort (but I really don't like anything much above 3mm, so I don't suppose we can take that as a guide.) It's garter stitch based, with a little bit of "lace" (i.e. a few holes) at the bottom and a very ingenious method of fastening the wrap:



Here's the back view:



Garter stitch is just about the easiest thing you can do in knitting but it certainly shows up any irregularity in your tension. I'm hoping that the passage of time will work its magic (as it so often does, both in knitting and in life) and smooth out the stitches. I didn't do any blocking - it was finished so soon, it didn't really seem like a "project" at all.

Just minding my own business and watching "Le Tour", there was a fearful row. I rushed outside and saw this:



Something was "up", obviously. A little later, I managed to spot them:



The Red Arrows had come to visit the Global Gathering, taking place a few miles from here. Which just goes to show there must be plenty of money in all that "Boom-chukka-boom-chukka-boom", because I don't imagine the Red Arrows come cheap.

Many thanks to those of you who have left comments and signed the guest map. If I haven't responded to you personally then consider yourself thanked, right now.

Will it never end?

That seems to be the question which is forever on my lips at the moment. The one thing that I wish would end is the rain. I honestly cannot remember the last day on which we had no rain at all. At the moment, while it is not actually raining, it is dark enough to make me think the Apocalypse cannot be far off and requires the light to be turned on (it's just past mid-day.)

The other thing I wish would end is the "Anne" cardigan. If you have been following, you will know that the yarn is beautiful and the pattern is fearful. Vertical intarsia stripes, if you please, with the whole thing being knitted in one piece, thus requiring twelve balls of yarn to be hanging off the bottom. It seemed to take me an unusually long time to reach the eighteen inches required before dividing for the armholes. I measured it - seventeen and a bit inches. I did two rows and measured again - seventeen and a bit inches. I did two more rows and measured again - seventeen and a bigger bit inches. I swear I knitted ten rows and it never got any bigger. Black hole knitting, obviously.

I finally decided enough was enough and divided for the armholes. I'm not quite sure how long it is. Round about seventeen and a bit inches probably. Next step? "Continue in the same sequence on the first 57 stitches for 7 inches." Simple. Only three balls of wool at this stage (so only about a quarter as annoying). Seven inches? I knitted a bit, eyeballed it and measured.

I suppose you all know what's coming ?

Eight inches. Not six and a bit for ten rows. No. Eight. Straight off. Just like that. Black hole knitting, with a vengeance.

Here's the fearsome thing:



all scrumpled up. (Note cycling magazine in the background - it is "Le Tour", after all).

Another picture where you can sort of see how I've finished the right front and am working the back on the next six stripes:



Six balls of yarn now, so twice as annoying as what I've just done but only half as annoying as the first part.
The colours are slightly lighter in real life. Another function of the constant rain is that there is very little light, so it's almost impossible to get a decent picture.

I'm so fed up with it that I've rattled off a small doily from Marianne Kinzel's "First Book of Modern Lace Knitting". No picture for reason given above.

I have even taken out the Wedding Ring Shawl and done a row or two - which just goes to show how truly ticked off I am by the Anne Cardigan, if the WRS is "light relief".

Finally, Saturday Field. In a new departure, this is the front field:



Not raining there (it did later in the day, though.)

Life in the rural backwater is not all bad.

Wet, wet, wet

Here's the back field picture. Posted on the right day for once.



It's a bit grey and grim because it's been raining, off and on , for what seems like weeks. We have been spared the worst of the flooding and are quite snug here in the rural backwater.

Not much knitting - creeping along on the border of the "5S" for the second time. This is really so I can make sure that I write the pattern correctly - I'm hoping that even the beginner lace knitter will be able to tackle this.

Here's a picture of the "tab", which is one repeat of the edging pattern, followed by one row in contrasting yarn, followed by the beginning of the edging proper. This is so that you stand some chance of being able to graft the two ends together without losing your marbles.



That's about the lot for now. I have been knitting on the tedious "Anne" cardigan but it's a bit black hole - I'm knitting all the hours that there are in the day and the thing has not increased in size, in any way, shape or form.

She Sells Sea Shells Shawl

This is the first shawl I have designed myself. "Designed" sounds very complicated and may be overstating the case somewhat. I used the formula for a basic square shawl knitted in the round. Cast on a few stitches - I always use the ever reliable "Emily Ocker's circular cast-on" (Seen here from the public side. Isn't it neat?)



Then increase 8 stitches every other round. I designated two stitches at each corner to make the diagonal lines and increased with a simple YO on either side of these two stitches on every public side round. I trawled through stitch dictionaries looking for patterns to insert into my blank "canvas". Since there are so many stitch patterns out there, I thought it best to have a theme. I settled on the sea/shore because I love the sea - ironically, I live slap, bang in the middle of England, just about as far from the sea as it's possible to get on this tiny island. To make up for that I've knitted this shawl.

The first pattern is little shells - it's the 3 x 1 Herringbone stitch from "Traditional Knitted Lace Shawls". It's only a four stitch pattern repeat, so I just worked stocking stitch at the sides until I had enough stitches for another repeat.



When I got fed up of that I worked six round of garter stitch and then four rounds of simple YO, K2tog faggot stitch, to mimic a fishing net, followed by another six rounds of garter stitch.

The next pattern was Fishtail Lace from "The Ultimate Sourcebook of Knitting and Crochet Stitches". This is an eight stitch repeat, so it fitted in quite nicely.



Again, I worked until I got fed up with it and then repeated the six rounds garter stitch, the four rounds faggot stitch, the six rounds garter stitch.

On to the next pattern, razor shell from Martha Waterman again, an eight stitch pattern repeat.



I did that for a bit (and if I'm honest, I think I should have done a bit more of it than I actually did do) and then launched into the border pattern. The delightful "Ocean Waves", also from Martha Waterman's book.



This is an edging that is "knitted on". You cast on the relevant number of stitches - in this case thirteen, onto another needle of the same diameter used for the body of the shawl. Some people like to use a dpn for this, I don't - too easy for the stitches to slip off the other end. I do like to use a shorter needle, though, as there are usually only a few stitches on the needle. You knit the edging and every time you come up against the live stitches, which are still there on your original needle, you K2tog (or SSK, or whatever you fancy) the last stitch of the edging with the next stitch of the body of the shawl. You then graft together the stitches from the beginning of the edging with those of the end. Simple!

Well, not all that simple, actually. It's bad enough grafting ordinary stocking stitch but when it comes to grafting lace?? However, I found a very neat trick from Robert Powell in "A Gathering of Lace". Basically, you use another ball of the same yarn and the same size needles to knit one repeat of the edging without attaching it to the shawl. You knit the last row of the repeat in a contrast colour and then you join in the main yarn and knit the edging attaching as you go. Here's a picture showing the tab and the contrasting yarn.



When you have completed the edging apart from the last row you cut the yarn, leaving a long tail and use the contrast coloured yarn to guide you in your grafting. Makes it a heck of a lot easier. As long as you remember that you have to pass the yarn through each stitch twice before you drop it off the needle and as long as you leave the contrast yarn in place until you have done that, you have cracked it.

Here's the whole thing, pre-blocking.



A sorry sight.

The magic of blocking transformed it into this:



which looks a whole lot better.

I took the "She Sells Sea Shells Shawl" for an outing into town and was astonished to be accosted (in Marks and Spencer's, no less) by someone who said she wanted to "stalk my knitting". I told her to feel free, whereupon she looked at the shawl, looked at me and said, "You're not Kate, are you? I read your blog." That's the first time I've ever met a blog reader in person. How lovely to be recognized by my knitting.

Diane, this one's for you:



Saturday Field, on a Monday.