More On Raglans/Unpopular Opinion Alert/"Easy to Alter"/Solving the Wrong Problem?

I let my frustration show in a tweet last week... I said something along the lines of "Dear Top-Down-One-Piece Raglan people: Please stop."

I was teaching a class last week, and I had a long discussion with a woman about the sweater she was working on.

It was a top-down one-piece raglan, and she was partway through the yoke. It was a fairly plain garment, and a relaxed style. She had a million questions. She was looking to alter it.

We wanted to change the length of the garment. Easily done - and indeed, one of the excellent benefits of a top-down sweater. She was considering altering the sleeve length - also easily done.

But then she explained to me that she wanted it to fit differently in the top, and to make it more fitted.

At that point, I lost my patience.

Not with the knitter - but with us.

With the community.

This woman was a reasonably skilled knitter, with a clear idea of what she was looking to create.

She'd gone into a shop, looking for a pattern to create a particular garment - and she'd been directed to a top-down one-piece raglan. "They are easy to alter."

I really wish we'd stop presenting the top-down one-piece raglans like they are the solution to every knitting problem.

Elements like body and sleeve length are very easy to alter - sure. But not necessarily the whole thing.

And no matter how skilled you are at knitting and altering, there are limits to what a raglan can do and how they can fit. And they simply don't work on every body type.

Here's the unpopular bit: go look at the hundreds of February Lady Sweater projects on Ravelry. It's a design that looks terrific on some people, but looks truly awful on others. (In particular, check out the armholes.) And despite this particular sweater being a favourite of the Harlot, it's got issues in the armhole area, too.

And one-piece construction is great if the yarn isn't too heavy - but a yarn like alpaca or cotton can get very heavy, and really benefits from seams to retain some structure.

I feel like we're really misleading knitters if we keep pushing them towards only one style of garment. I cannot get a raglan to fit me, it's true, but I'd have the same rant if they did fit me well. I like set-in sleeves, but I don't push everyone to that style, either. Everyone is shaped differently, and everyone needs to know what works for them.

And how do you know what works for you? Experiment! Go spend an hour in the Gap and try on every sweater they have. Try raglans, try set-in sleeves, try circular yokes, try drop shoulders. Try garments with waist shaping. Try garments that hang straight. Try different lengths. Take a good honest look at yourself. And take notes!

I know, I know. I've grumbled about this before.

I just feel that far too often something is missing from the decision process when you choose a pattern to knit: the understanding that this is a garment you are going to wear, and that you should like the look and fit of.

Now, I do understand why both designers and knitters like the top-down. Amy presents a nicely articulated discussion of why she likes to design raglans here. And I agree with everything she says.

And I know one of the big reasons why knitters like them: people don't like seaming.

But I think we're solving that particular problem the wrong way. I know that people don't like seaming because they don't know how. The patterns glibly throw out instructions like "set in sleeves" in the finishing, but never explain precisely what they mean.

And if you don't have a reference book like my beloved Vogue Knitting, you're going to be at sea.

(The people who struggle the most sewing up knitting are those who are most familiar with sewing fabric. It's entirely different. A proper seam is really not hard, and the result is truly amazing. I love teaching my finishing class, because of the amazed reactions I get.)

So people don't like seaming, so they like a one-piece sweater. Makes sense to me. But you're going to be limited on styles and fits if that's all you have in your knitting toolkit. I'm on a one-woman crusade to banish fear of finishing.

And of course, top-down sweaters are worked in the round - also great. I'm a big fan of this - but in many cases, that can actually be done with all sorts of different styles. There's no reason why a set-in sleeve can't be worked in the round to the armholes, whether bottom up or top-down - assuming it's an appropriate yarn and style.

So yeah - people think I'm a raglan hater. I'm not, really. I'm a hater of narrow thinking and of limiting possibilities.

Two Socks in One: A Class!

I've had a few questions about the whole two-socks-in-one thingy....

it's not a double-thickness sock - it's two ENTIRELY SEPARATE socks knitted at the same time, on the same needles.


Yes, it's absurd.



Yes, it's likely a bit slower than knitting them separately.



Yes, you lose the magical no-purl benefits of working normally in the round.


Why? Because it's there.

It's the knitter's equivalent of Mount Everest.

And I'm teaching a class on it. Sunday April 18th, 1-3pm at The Purple Purl. Click here for more details.

For experienced and adventurous sock knitters only - ideally those with a well-developed sense of the absurd.

First Moose Sighting in the Wild!

Miko did hers in purple, naturally.

I've said this before, but this will never grow old for me, seeing people knitting my designs.

Gold!

Thanks to the Yarn Harlot, Franklin Habit and David the Code Monkey for setting this all up.

The Knitting of the Insane: 2 Socks in One

(Family legend: a brother of mine went through of phase of listening to some fairly terrible music, and would play his favourite songs over and over again at high volume. After the umpteenth day of Donovan bleeding through the walls, my Dad stormed into the family room and remarked - apparently also at some volume - "this is the music of the insane".)

Whenever I get into a phase of doing something obsessively - particularly something that not everyone shares my excitement about, Dad's expression leaps to mind.

So yes, this is The Knitting of the Insane.

I'm a sock knitter - you probably know this about me. A sock knitter with a passion for things slightly odd.

Years ago I recall reading about knitting two socks in one. There's a mention of it in War and Peace, and I recall seeing an article in a publication - which naturally I didn't buy - sometime in the mid 1990s.
And there was a very amusing Knitty article published on the technique a few years ago.

The January 2009 issue of Piecework had another article, written by Jacqueline Fee. It was reprinted in the recently published "Knitting Traditions" special issue published by Interweave. (If you're at all interested in strange/wonderful/historical/unusual/ethnic knitting traditions, go get yourself a copy of this.)

And I was reminded that this was something I really wanted to try.

Sometimes, the only way I can prioritize something is to commit to teaching a class on it. That way, I am forced to put it on my to do list with a deadline. So I floated the idea of a class, and got my needles out
The Piecework and Knitty articles are a good starting place, but not being one to leave well enough alone, I had to mess with things. The Knitty article doesn't really have specific pattern (and she recommends a short-row heel, which I'm not keen on). The pattern in the Piecework article is one-size, which doesn't work for me, and I wasn't keen on the heel and toe shaping. In addition, the designer wasn't using directional decreases, which meant that the gusset wouldn't look quite as neat as I like.

So I decided to see if I could reproduce - precisely - my standard sock pattern. Complete with flapped and gusseted heel with directional decreases, and a wedge toe.

I cast on for one of my training socks, and starting playing with it.

And it worked!

.





I haven't actually wanted to finish this first one up - I just love how it looks on the needles.

Emboldened by my success, I cast on for an actual sock, on actual sock needles, with actual sock yarn.

To help myself out, I chose a self-striping yarn, and deliberately offset the stripes so I could distinguish between the two layers.


Loving every stitch - it's exactly the sort of bizarre and wonderful sort of thing that makes me very happy.

Stay tuned for class info.

A Needle Pulling Thread Spring Issue

Click here for a PDF preview of the Spring issue of A Needle Pulling Thread.



I'm proud to be part of this magazine. It's all-Canadian, and focuses on promoting the work and products of Canadian designers and suppliers.

In this issue, I have lace cardigan and scarf designs, and an article about lace knitting.

You'll also find original patterns for crochet stitch, needlepoint and quilting. Look for it at your favourite crafting shop, or a big bookstore near you.

Gold! Forest & Trees Indeed

To the strains of "Thank God I'm a Country Boy" (as used, inexplicably, by a French ice-dancing team), I got my gold medal.

And now I have a pair of socks.


This design is called Forest and Trees. The name was inspired by two things... I love how the stitch pattern suggests intertwined branches of trees in a dense forest, and I thought that it was a magical balance of stitch pattern and colour. I find that many handpainted yarns are just too damn busy for pattern stitches. As a tech editor, I see a lot of pictures of socks, and it saddens me when a knitter does all this beautiful and clever knitting, but then obscures it with a poor choice of yarn. You want a balance so you can see both the forest of the stitch pattern and the trees of the colour, to stretch the metaphor. I love a good handpainted/self-striping/patterned yarn, but if I'm going to use something wacky, I keep the knitting pretty simple.

This seems to strike the right balance, however, and I'm very pleased with the result.

The yarn, as mentioned before is Cascade Heritage Paints. The colour shows better in this picture...



(It really is hard to produce a great of photograph of a pair of socks on your own feet, on a gloomy winter day.)

I was working on the second sock yesterday with some of the gang, and grumbling away about dropping stitches, and getting tired of turning the cables, and generally finding the knitting slow. (The problem is entirely with me, not the sock. I've been carrying it around with me everywhere, and half the time forgetting to take my cable needle, which has made for some risky knitting. I have not been applying the degree of attention this pattern requires and I've been suffering because of it.) And I was really worried about gauge - the new one seemed significantly looser than the first one.

But the gang raved about the sock-in-progress. They were so very enthusiastic and supportive of the design - and one of even them bought yarn and the pattern on the spot so she could knit them herself (thanks P!).

In light of all the nice words, I stepped back and took another look at this thing that had been driving my insane. I had been so focused on the trees of the process I wasn't seeing the forest of the sock anymore. And you know, the forest is pretty great, if I do say so myself.

Olympic Knitting: On Why Knitting Cabled Socks Is Like Men's Figure Skating

Because your equipment needs to be very sharp, and because no matter how many times you successfully land a quad jump/turn a cable, sometimes it just goes wrong.

And you can never go wrong with a bit of Jimi Hendrix.

(Can't find a video of last night's performance, but the link is a video of the same program skated last night. I loved how Japanese figure skater Takhiko Kozuka brought a bit of rock and roll to the proceedings.)


Anyway, yes, I am making progress on the Olympic knitting, but as I've said before, it's slow. I've been alternating between using a cable needle and not for all those million cable crosses... to take the analogy further, sometimes I feel strong enough to attempt the quad jump, sometimes I just stick with a safe triple. (I consider working the cable without a cable needle landing a quad, as it's trickier and cooler.)

Glad the Signature needles are sharp.

The fabric is tight due to all the cables, and the yarn is quite fine (Cascade Heritage Paint sock yarn), and I'm finding that I drop a stitch every few rounds. I need to stay vigilant on this one.

Anyway, I'm pass the heel turn, and into the home stretch. And if I can get about three quarters on an inch done per day, I'll get my gold medal.

(And likely watch an awful lot of figure skating as I go. Am also loving the anarchy of Snowboard Cross. It's like a faster, slightly insaner roller derby.)

Olympic Knitting Update: Day 3

Today, I actually managed to do some work on my Olympic knitting. Yay!

I've been working on a deadline project (to remain secret for a while), and I've needed to focus on that. As of today, the deadline project is almost done, and I felt confident enough about it that I could pick up my Olympic sock. I got four rounds worked this morning, and tonight I'm at liberty to work on it again while the deadline project is drying after a good blocking.

(Yes, all knitting should be blocked before it's finished. You should block pieces before they are sewn up, you definitely have to block lace, and even something like socks should be blocked before they are done - it just makes everything so much tidier and finished-looking.)

The safety pin marks where I picked up again for the Olympic challenge. It's SLOOOOOOOW going, I have to say. There are 5 repeats of the cable pattern around, and there are two cable crosses in every repeat, every other round. Yes, really. This is why there are 80 sts in the sock, rather than the usual 56 at this gauge. No wonder I never finished the second one...

I am very much looking forward to being able to wear the pair of them, and that's what I'm focused on.

Work Knitting: Yak Yak Yak

In my previous post, I mentioned that I do a lot of "work" knitting - commissioned designs and samples.

In no way should this be considered "work" in the same way that showing up in an office and attending meetings and writing TPS reports is considered "work".

Case in point: I've been doing some designing for the lovely people at Bijou Basin Ranch. They have a herd of Yaks, and they spin the fibre into some of the most fabulous yarns I've ever had the privilege of knitting.


Their yarns are warm and soft and utterly delicious. It's significantly warmer than wool, and comparable to cashmere in softness. It's remarkably durable and lightweight. The yarn is spun from the down undercoat which these cold-climate beasties grow to keep themselves warm in the winter. When they shed it in the spring, the yarn is combed and harvested. So although I think Carl and Eileen are wonderful people, I hope they are suffering a truly miserable winter so that their yaks grow a really magnificent undercoat this year.

They don't dye the yarns, so you get a lovely range of natural colours.


Now available on their website, a couple of things I've designed for them...

the Honeycomb Kerchief



and the "Not Too Fussy" Men's Vest


Whether you use the yarn for one of my designs or not, I strongly recommend you get your hands on some of this stuff. It's some of the most fun I've ever had with my needles. And they have a sock yarn!!!

Olympic Knitting: It Is a Challenge...

Last winter Olympics, I knitted my very first major lace piece.

My world has changed a lot since then - all for the better, no question - but I have significantly less time to knit for myself. I'm a working designer these days, and spend most of my time on design samples and commissioned work. I love it, don't get me wrong. It just means that most of my knitting is "work" knitting.

And knitting to deadline is part of my daily life.

Right now, I'm working hard to finish a lace piece for February 19th. It's wonderful, I'm very happy with it - but it's definitely a scheduled knitting project.

So for the 2010 Knitting Olympics, my challenge will be to find time to knit something for myself.

If I can get my lace assignment done a little bit ahead of schedule and be efficient with the next assignment, then I can carve out some time to challenge myself with my Olympic knitting.

I have decided, after much consideration, that my Olympic knitting for 2010 will be to...

(drum roll, please)...

finish a sock.


Seriously.

I completed the first sock of the Forest & Trees pair last August, while enroute to Sock Summit. I'm very happy with it, and have published the design, and regularly show the single sock at my sock knitting classes, but it remains unworn because it lacks a mate.

I did manage to cast on for its mate sometime around November, but haven't got very far with it. I'm enormously keen to wear the things.

So I'm going to finish this sock.

Hey, it's all about a challenge, right? Trust me, this is going to be a challenge.

Update on Moose Pattern

The pattern is available separately, for $6.00. Contact The Purple Purl for info.

The Moose Sweater; Still Looking for an Olympic Project?

For those who follow my Twitter feed, you might recall a number of tweets around the end of last year about a moose.

I was working on a moose sweater. Not just any moose sweater... The Moose Sweater.


The sample is on display at The Purple Purl. The pattern is available exclusively from them, and it's free with the purchase of 5 skeins of the yarn.

I used Earth Collection Homestead yarn. This is an absolute gem - it's light and warm, with a lovely not-too-scratchy hand, but not so soft that it will pill. It comes in the three solid colours I used for the design, and I think they work very well together. Any aran weight would work - perhaps Mission Falls 1824 or Louet Riverstone - if you want to add a bit of colour

Click through to the Purple Purl newsletter if you want to see the fun Miko is having with an additional colour...

Classes - Socks and Others

Just a reminder - I'm teaching five classes at the DKC Winter Workshops in Toronto this weekend: Entrelac, Design-Your-Own Custom-Fit Socks, Math for Knitters, Pattern Alterations, and an "Expert Tips" workshop.

I'm particularly looking forward to the Expert Tips class - we'll be talking cast-ons, cast-offs, increases, decreaseds, blocking, swatching - all the goodies and tidbits that I've learnt over my years of knitting.

Spaces are still available in all classes, and you can sign up at the door.


Speaking of classes, a student from a recent sock knitting class took this tremendous photo. This is me in my happy place - sitting in the sunshine, surrounded by hot drinks, socks and sock yarn, and me wielding a ruler to measure gauge. Thanks Marnie! She also has some nice words to say about my class on her blog.

Puffy Vest: Record Time for A Completed Sweater

It took two tries, but the Puffy Vest turned out exactly the way I wanted. Last weekend, I had worked almost all the way up to the armholes, and discovered that it was too big.

So I undid it - bravely - and restarted with fewer stitches. I cast on the second time about 5pm on Monday, and I had it finished 49 hours later - just in time to wear for my Wednesday night class. (Although I have to say that it's not easy to do a three-needle bind off with only two needles, when you're on the streetcar. It can be done, but it's not for the fainthearted.) When I left the house to go to my class, it was still on the needles, but I finished it enroute. N looked a bit befuddled when I arrived home... "That didn't have a hood when I saw it last, did it?"

And it's perfect. Fits exactly the way I wanted, and looks just as I hoped it would. It needs to be quite fitted and cropped, otherwise the puffiness of the mohair would be overwhelming and unflattering.



I expect to wear this a lot.

I designed and knitted this entirely for me - an unusual treat. This wasn't a commission, it wasn't designed with publishing or sale in mind - it's just for me. I was, therefore, able to indulge my own whims - and make it to fit little ol' me.

The gratifying thing is that the response has been so good I think I will write it up for sale.

Although I might need to knit a second one, in a colour that will actually photograph well. I think I need to convince Mum to knit one for my niece so she can test the pattern...

New Design; Justifying a Noro Obsession: Silk Garden Entrelac Hat

It's no secret I love Noro yarns. And I'm always looking for good ways to use them. And I think one of the best ways of all might be Entrelac... the lengths of colour seem perfect for this technique. I've got a scarf pattern.


And now I have a hat pattern. For sale on Patternfish and Ravelry.

Uses barely any yarn - just 1 or 2 balls, depending on the size you knit.

It's not difficult, this Entrelac thing - you just need to be confident with decreasing and picking up stitches. And I know you're confident with picking up stitches because you read my blog post of a couple of weeks ago. Right?

I can guarantee that you'll get more attention knitting Entrelac in public than anything else you might have ever worked on. You get the usual glances from non-knitters, but the usual nods from knitters turn into admiring, amazed stares.

And the funny thing about Entrelac is that it's actually easier in the round than flat. Really!

Go on, you know you want to try it...

Sometimes you just have to say goodbye...

To the knitting, that is. I was making excellent progress over the weekend with my mohair puffy vest thingy...

and I knew I was approaching the length I wanted to the armhole. So I slipped all the stitches to a longer circular needle and tried it on.

Eek.

I was significantly larger than I had planned. There was an extra 4 inches circumference at the bust - and that just wasn't the look I was aiming for.

So I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and pulled the thing off the needles.

This takes courage.

I coach students on this all the time... if you're going to hate the result, if it's not going to fit, if it's not going to be what you want - ultimately, if you're never going to wear it - then it's not worth finishing. You should have the courage of your convictions to start over again.

But that doesn't mean it's easy or fun.

There's a secondary lesson here - it's always a good idea to check your progress as you're going. Measure the piece once in a while to make sure it's actually the size (and indeed shape) it's supposed to be. If I'd checked earlier, I could have saved myself some time.


Still, I'd rather have spent the extra time to get the garment I want.

So with fewer stitches, I'm making faster progress, and am well on my way to completing this thing.

(Add to list of things that make for difficult and boring photography: black mohair knitting projects in progress.)

Old Yarn, Old Needles

I've been working on a bunch of assignment knitting - most of it not yet ready for publication on the blog...

Because I am a sucker for punishment, two of those projects are colourwork. Now, it's not that I don't like colourwork, it's just that it's the sort of knitting that tries my patience - it's slow and careful work, and I am so damn critical of my own technique that I keep undoing perfectly good sections to make them "better". The results are great, but the journey is slow.

And of course, because my knitting plate is full, I inexplicably felt the urge to cast on for a new project.

Something easy-peasy, auto-pilot-appropriate, and fun.

A couple of months ago, I was chatting with a knitter about our stashes. (Comparing stash sizes is a perfectly healthy thing to do, really.) In particular, we were talking about the strange and absurd things hiding in the corners. I confessed to her that I have a soft spot for what I call "big tacky 1980s mohair".

You know, this sort of thing:

(The lime green thing I used as a background is a story for another day.)

So she appeared a few days later with a bag full for me. "Take my mohair - please."

So I did.

It was a load of tremendous black and emerald green mohair, which she'd apparently acquired in a moment of madness at the Textile Museum yardage sale, and had regretted ever since. And it's exactly the sort of thing I love. It's been sitting on my desk since I brought it home, daring me to knit it.

And last weekend inspiration hit. I'm working a sleeveless pullover thing, with a deep v neck and a hood. (Given that I really don't have time to knit anything else right now, I decided to sacrifice the sleeves.) It's loosely inspired by something I saw a kid wearing on the streetcar the other day, a hooded puffy pullover-style vest. ( I think it might also need a kangaroo pocket, but I'll decide that when I get there.)

I'm only allowed to work on it when I really can't work on anything else - when the light isn't good enough, or I have to pay attention to something else. The body is in the round to make it as quick and easy as possible, so even thought it's in black, it's plain sailing so far. Knit knit knit knit knit knit knit.... And I'm having much fun.

(If you've been paying attention to my previous rants, you'll know that I'm not always a fan of things worked in the round - they can be heavy and saggy - but in this case, mohair is so light there is no risk of stretch or sag.)

After swatching, I realized I need an odd needle size, a 5.5mm. (Precisely the one they specified on the ball band, interestingly enough, although why they give a needle size but not a gauge, I don't know...

)

Anyway, I dug around in the cupboard and came out with a needle I haven't used in years - an old Susan Bates aluminum circular. I was thinking I'd just use that to start the project, and then when I got back to a shop I'd pick up an nice slick Addi. But I've kept going on the Susan Bates - it's rocketing along. The needle is just slippery enough, and I have to say the point is a fair bit sharper than the equivalent size Addi Turbo - which you need for a fuzzy sticky yarn like mohair.


So yes, vintage yarn on vintage needles - and I'm loving it!

Counting Rows in Cables

Had a great time in KW on Tuesday - the gang was very welcoming, and there was some good discussion.

I'd taken a few of my samples and patterns, and I heard a knitter comment that she'd made a shawl that looked a bit like the one on the table... and then she realized that it was the one on the table she'd made. She'd bought my pattern online, and hadn't realized I was the designer.

I love to see other knitters working and enjoying my designs.

One of the tips I shared in my presentation was how to count rows in a cable...

Specifically, how to figure out how many rows you've worked since you've turned the cable.



Easy!

If you're working flat, start by figuring out what row is facing. If the cable is facing, that means you've worked at least one WS row after you turned it, so you've worked an odd number of rows. That's a start.

And to be absolutely precise - whether working flat or round - use a spare needle:

Insert the needle in the "hole" that's created by the crossing over of the cable. And just count up the rows from that! Don't count the one that the red needle is under, and don't count the row that's actually active on the needles - just count the rows in between.

Three!

See? Easy!

On Picking Up Gusset Stitches: Avoiding a Hole

This is a sock knitting question that comes up fairly often, most recently in a Twitter exchange.

How to avoid the hole at the top of the gusset when picking up stitches?

(This applies only to a sock with a heel flap - the rules are different for a short-row heel. I'll cover short-row heel holes at another time, if you're interested...)

When you're at the top of the heel flap, have run out of edge stitches, and need one more stitch, many knitters have been tempted by the siren song of that lovely little bar that hangs out between the heel flap and the held stitches of the instep.

This one:

DON'T DO IT!

Picking up this one causes a hole.


Other knitters just stop at that point, and give up on the extra stitch. That doesn't help either, as it can leave a bit of a gap between the instep and heel flap.

Instead, keep going in the direction you were going...

That is, keep going up in the same 'column' you've been picking the stitches up in, in a straight line...

Yes, you're up into the leg of the sock, above the divide for instep and heel flap, but this is a good thing.

First of all, it keeps the gusset pickup in a tidy straight line.


And it handily eliminates both risk of hole and gap. No hole because you're picking up a fully formed stitch, and no gap because you're actually going to cover up the divide. And going that extra stitch makes for a better fitting sock, with a bit more fabric to fit comfortably around the heel.

No, it doesn't create any significant extra bulk.

As to coming back down the other side? Before I start picking up, I count up to figure out where I need to start. And I start up in the leg a bit, to match the first side.


And final tip - on the following round, I work the picked up-stitches through the back loop. It tightens and closes them up a bit, and makes the whole thing a bit neater.

Off to K/W Today

With a 12MB PowerPoint file and a bag full of knitted goodies. Can't wait to meet everyone there!

Am taking an interesting combo of bus and train - lots of excellent knitting time.

Reader Mail & Comments on Edges

Thanks for all the great comments on the last post. Hilda would be pleased!

A knitter I was chatting to yesterday commented that her grandmother used exactly the same technique, but she had also forgotten it until recently. I'm wondering how such a clever thing got lost between generations. What's interesting to me is that my Mum didn't think it was particularly noteworthy - but then you wouldn't, if it was something you'd been doing all along.

Anyone else been doing this all along?

Kirsten comments about the "slip the first stitch of every row" technique. Yup, it's terrific way to create a tidy edge - but it's only useful if you're not going to be seaming that edge. Slipping the first row of every stitch makes seaming more difficult - and a bit messier, IMHO. But for a scarf, or a baby surprise jacket, or blanket, or what-have-you - it makes a lovely edge.

Compare the two on the swatch... slipped on the right vs. not on the left. See - lovely!


The most important thing, however, is to be consistent about it. If you forget on a single row, it borks the whole thing up. A stitch marker at the edges can be helpful with this.

Knitting Tip from Hilda

The original wise Hilda, the knitter after whom this blog is named, was my Mum's Mum.

She was a tremendous knitter and crocheter - and played a mean hand of bridge, too.

She taught me to knit as a girl. (We didn't get very far with crochet. All I could do was crochet absurdly long chains. I remember a purple one in particular. I'm honestly surprised I didn't trip anyone over with it, or accidentally throttle the cat.)

Of course, she also taught Mum.

Mum's been working on a sweater for me - a sort of contract knitting job. I sew up the sweaters she knits for herself and for gifts, and so in exchange she's doing the knitting on a cardigan for me.

I was watching Mum knit the other day, and noticed something interesting. I stopped her, and asked her what she was doing. I'm a little sheepish I had never noticed it before, it's a brilliant thing.... My Knitting Hero, the original wise Hilda told Mum to work the last stitch of every row through the back loop. As I say in my classes (usually when discussing swatching), no matter how good a knitter you are, your edge stitches are always a bit wonky. Working them through the back loop tightens up them up so nicely, and significantly reduces the wonkiness. So simple and so wonderful!

(The two Hildas on a snowy day in Niagara Falls, circa mid-1980s.)

Thanks Hilda! Still learning from you after all these years...

Starting As I Mean To Continue: Talking about Knitting

The 2010 knitting year starts with a bang for me - two big speaking engagements coming up very soon.

Tuesday January 12th, I'm honoured to be the inaugural guest speaker for the Kitchener Waterloo Knitter's Guild's Year of Lace, on the topic of "Finding your place in your lace". You can be sure I'll spend a least a couple of minutes explaining why you need to swatch... I can turn anything into a justification to swatch - try me!

And the weekend of February 6 & 7th I'm teaching at Toronto's Downtown Knit Collective Winter Workshops. I had a terrific time teaching there last year, and I'm thrilled to be participating again. I have a full slate of classes - math for knitters/basic alterations, designing custom-fit socks, the perennially popular entrelac, and advanced alterations.

If you're there, say hello!

Is It Even a Hand Spindle?

This is how little I know about spinning... an eagle-eyed reader commented that she's seen a spindle like mine in a machine in a spinning museum in Barrington, Nova Scotia. It may not even be a hand spindle - it may only be for machine use. I must confess, I was confused by the lack of little hooky thing...

(It was given to me by a friend who can't actually remember where she got it from, hence the possible confusion... )

Really terrific picture and story of the museum at this link.

Anyway, Denny will help me figure it all out, I'm sure.

Clearly, someone thinks I was good this year.

A few great books from Santa this year...


Alice Starmore's seminal book on Fair Isle knitting. If only so I can help Mum with her sweater... It's been out of print for a long time, very glad to see it back. This will be widly relevant in the very near future - I have a couple of colourwork designs cooking - one for socks, naturally, the other a garment.

Another fab obscure book on lace knitting, Gladys Amedro's "Shetland Lace".

The rather absurd and marvelous "Knitted Cakes". Next year's Christmas cake may well be knitted...

And of course, every girl needs a sheep spotting guide.... "Know Your Sheep" by Jack Byard.

This is particularly useful since Denny tells me that 2010 is the year I learn to spin. She is insisting.

I've acquired a spindle... here we go....


I may not yet know how to use the damn thing, but at least I know what a Bluefaced Leicester looks like.

Blame It On The Eggnog

Have been frantically working on the Festive Socks, between glasses of eggnog and hunks of boozy fruitcake. About halfway done the second....


the clock is ticking... desperately want to be able to wear them for Christmas.

Am very pleased with them. I've made the stripes match, but have chosen to add a bit of fun by making the heels different. My thought was that since there is so much going on with the yarn, I wanted to keep the overall effect pretty clean.

All well and good but for one key detail....

I managed to mess up the ribbing.


One is k1 p1, the other is k2 p2.

Ah well, blame it on the eggnog. And cake. And Black Oak Nutcracker. And Great Lakes Brewery's Winter Ale.

(I'm surprised that I'm doing this well with them, truth be told...)

Twist Collective/Errata/The Internet as a Knitting Tool

In a comment on my previous post, Julia of Twist Collective mentioned that they guarantee all their patterns. A brilliant idea!

Another comment made the wise point that a knitter should always search for Errata before beginning a project. This is one of the reasons I love the Internet. Google the name of the pattern and the magic work "errata" or "updates". Mistakes do happen - if they've been found, chances are they have been published online.

And this is why Ravelry is such a wonderful tool. First of all, it provides an easy way for designers to deliver an updated version of a pattern if a correction needs to be made. More importantly, however, the knitters themselves are an amazing source of information. Between the various forums and discussion groups, and each knitter's project notes, there is a wealth of information to be found on patterns.

This is particularly relevant when a pattern isn't wrong, but a knitter is just have difficulty with it. Whether it's simply a technique that's new to a particular knitter, or whether it's something that's not explained in sufficient detail, or perhaps just poorly or oddly written, the collective wisdom of the Ravelry community is an amazing tool.

In addition, you can often find the actual designer on Ravelry, and ask a direct question.

Patternfish, also, allows a designer to issue an updated version of a pattern to all purchasers. Knitty highlights pattern changes and fixes in pink.

Mistakes do happen - it's all about making it easy for knitters to find the fixes.

Technical Editing/Request To Designers/Minor Rant Of The Day

As a teacher, an editor, and a knitter, I see an awful lot of knitting patterns.

One of my most popular classes is the Project Class. It's a multi-week session that allows knitters to work on a project that is a personal challenge. I get all sorts of great projects in the class - new knitters who have knit a few scarves and are ready to progress to a hat; experienced knitters who want to learn a new skill like lace; and adventurous knitters who want to learn how to wrangle a pattern.

Knitters bring patterns from all sorts of sources - from published books and booklets, from magazines, and of course, all sorts of online patterns, freebie and otherwise. And I have to read through every one of them.

There are lots and lots of online sources for patterns - a thousand and one blogs, including mine, and all those self-published patterns in Ravelry and Etsy.

The problem is that many of them aren't good.

A student brought a hat pattern recently to one of my classes. She'd bought it on etsy, and I was shocked at the poor quality. Sure, the instructions were right, but it was missing key information: gauge and sizing. This disappoints me enormously. As designers, we're doing knitters a disservice if we're not providing patterns that are correct, complete and easy to follow.

Mistakes do happen, absolutely. Typos, incorrect numbers, editing slips. I've suffered from that myself more than once. (True confession: there was a minor mistake in the Vampire Sock pattern when it went live. We caught it pretty quickly, and fixed it, but it was there.)

But not providing sizing or gauge information is a major oversight. That would be bad in a free pattern, but it's absolutely unforgivable in a pattern that is sold.

I'm a little more forgiving of self-published freebie patterns - one of my students worked an absolutely stunning lace shrug from a pattern on a blog. It was a struggle - the pattern wasn't very well written, and there were a few pieces of information missing, but it was a freebie, and the author wasn't claiming that it was perfect, nor did she charge money for it.

In my opinion, any pattern - free or otherwise - needs to be complete and correct. Designers - please please please have someone proofread your pattern. And if there is a mistake, publish errata online. Please.

Incorrect patterns frustrate knitters. And frustrated knitters give up.

And if knitters give up, there are fewer of them out there knitting and buying patterns and yarn, and fewer designers can earn money, and fewer yarn companies can survive.

If people ask me about good sources for free patterns, I point them in the direction of Knitty (of course) and Berroco. I know that in both cases, the patterns go through technical editors - and therefore, they are going to be complete, accurate and well-written. It depresses me that I have to tell people to shy away from indie designers, but unless it's someone whose patterns I know and trust, I can't guarantee that the knitter is going to have a good time.

And after all, this is a hobby. It should be a good time.

I Have A Little Dreidel...

I made it out of... yarn... ?

Free Dreidel and Christmas stocking patterns available with any purchase from my friends at Signature Needle Arts.

KAGY/No Felting

Love it! Mavenknits suggests we form an alliance - Knitters Allied Against Growing Yarn. Can I be a charter member?

Also - because the damn thing is superwash it won't shrink or felt.

Gauge Mess/Festive Socks

(If you think you're likely to receive a hand-knitted Christmas gift from me, please stop reading now. You know who you are.)

If you're still reading, please be entertained by this picture of the very silly sparkle-tastic festive spectacular socks I'm knitting from the North Pole yarn.

I absolutely love this - they're awful and tacky in precisely the right way.

Ok, back to the more pressing topic...

Am knitting a second Morgan hat as a Christmas gift for someone special. I chose a different yarn this time - Mission Fall's 1824. I matched the stitch gauge without a problem (working on slightly smaller needles than I would normally for this yarn) - and yes, of course, I swatched. And I even checked the gauge several times as I was working, as is my wont. And all was good.

But about three quarters of the way through, the little voice in my head started to speak up.

I've worked with this yarn before, for my Rogue sweater. And I recall, very clearly, that the damn thing grew after the first wash. In fact, I recall (only now, of course), swearing off that yarn for things that would need frequent washing and/or a good fit.)

I carefully measured my gauge again. Unblocked, it was a little tight on stitch gauge - which is absolutely fine - but I was already over a little bit on row gauge. Not a lot, but just enough to make me worry.

So I took it off the needles, and very gently blocked it.

It's a good inch and a half too long and too wide - and it looks like a dinner plate.


I briefly considered undoing it a bit, and altering the pattern and generally reengineering it. It wouldn't have been too hard, but I worry that the damn thing would have kept growing.

So, back to the start. (Hey, you! I bet you're still reading - all I can say is that I hope you like it!) I found some Cascade 220 hiding in the stash, so will be using that.

And the Mission Falls yarn? Well, a couple of friends are expecting, and the yarn is washable. Moss green baby blanket, anyone? Doesn't matter if a baby blanket gets bigger, after all!