FO: Leaf Lace Shawl

Finished!

I was swatching for this a while ago, and it's been quietly percolating away in the background...

The Leaf Lace Shawl.

The design was inspired by the traditional seaman's scarves, patterned at both ends, with a relatively plain centre. See this book for more information on these types of scarves.

It's made with two skeins of Hopeful Farm's 2 ply fingering weight yarn, one of my most favourite yarns in the word. It's undyed, and it's a truly wonderful espresso colour, almost black, but with more chocolately depth.

The yarn is fairly unprocesssed, and somewhat varied in texture, so I wanted larger scale lace patterning. The Long Leaf lace comes thanks to Barbara Walker, and the lace rib used for the centre is an old standard. I think the result is modern, unfussy and very pleasing.

The pattern will be available for sale at the KW Knitter's Fair, directly from Hopeful Farm, and through me. Drop me a line if you're interested.

More Progress on BSJ; Olympic Update

I feel like the Chinese government (no politically incorrect or tasteless joke intended).... It's just that I've found myself in a mad dash to finish something before the Olympics start.

The Baby Surprise Jacket

It's going well enough, but I'm finding it -- gasp -- sort of boring to knit. Turns out that large swatches of garter stitch aren't the thrill for me that they are for some people. I think the problem is that it's not entirely mindless -- you do need to keep track of which row you're on to work various increases or decreases, and I was constantly checking my progress, to figure out the colour changes.

There's one final step left -- the lower/front edging and buttonholes. At the rate I'm knitting, it's probably about an hour's worth of work.

As to the Olympics... my trainer and I are sad to announce that I have been forced to withdraw. I've got some commissioned work -- a hat and mitten set, some technical editing, and a design that's been accepted for a book. The deadlines for all three are coming up fast, so they will be my focus for the next little while.

I will, however, finish the BSJ. I can't promise I'll enjoy it, but I will finish it.

Progress on BSJ

EZ is right. It looks like nothing when you're working on it.

Step 1 complete -- all the decreases done.

Step 2 complete -- the first phase of increases, to the neck shaping.

I'm changing colours at the end of each major phase. The first green section goes until you increase at the cuff. Then it's pink for the decrease section, and green for the first increase section.

Looked at it another way, the first section creates a u-shaped piece of knitting with decreases... and the increases are creating a second u-shape, attached to the first. See the green section folded on top of the pink.

Interesting, but still doesn't look like anything.

But fold it appropriately, you get something which actually looks like a sweater.

Nifty!

More Vintage Goodness: Mary Maxim

Every North American knitter of a certain age knows about Mary Maxim sweaters. Indeed, you don't have to be a knitter to know these sweaters.

Mary Maxim is a yarn and crafts distributor that was established in Canada in early 1950s. They are best known for a particular style of sweater pattern.


You know them... the big bulky, shawl collared sweaters with designs on them. Hunters, vintage cars, bowling pins, hockey players, wildlife and native designs, that sort of thing. Bob Hope sports one above.

A bit of the company's history can be found here and here.

You can always find these sorts of sweaters at vintage stores, and every fall, a new batch of hipsters discovers them as a fashion item.

Mary Maxim is still a going concern, a mail order and online business, with a couple of retail locations. You can even still buy some of these sweater patterns. (They're mostly pretty mainstream in their selection, but I did get one ball of Kureyon for my Lizard Ridge from the Toronto retail location.)

I was given another big box of vintage patterns recently, and hidden amongst the Beehive baby books and 1980s-era Vogue Knitting magazines were these treasures... a handful of original Mary Maxim patterns, and even a catalogue. They're fabulous. Click the picture to enlarge it and see what there is.

The designs are all fully charted, in a great detail.

It's very clever... if you fold down the top of the sheet, the chart is shown for a raglan armhole rather than set-in sleeve.

A nice little extra was this... a booklet containing only charted letters and numbers for personalizing your sweaters...

The copyright dates on these are between 1955 and 1961. No indication on the date of the catalogue, but I have to assume it's that era, too. Although the catalogue does offer a selection of plainer, lighter weight sweaters for men, woman and children, a broad selection of yarn weights and colours, and some afghan kits, most of the 20 pages are taken up with a huge variety of designs for these Mary Maxim sweaters.

Whatever your interest, in the 1950s, there was a sweater for you... hockey, planes, boaats, archery, curling, square dancing, ice skating, fishing...

skiing, golf, wolves, dogs, horses, football....

and the selection for kids is even better -- kittens, puppies, trains, teddy bears, a hen with chicks, various fairy tale inspired designs



... and my favourite... "Outer Space"....



I feel a new project coming on...

Many, many thanks to Dora for this treasure trove.

A Darker, Less Helpful Time

I mentioned that I've been given some bits and pieces from some old knit stashes... a few interesting books, some needles, and some yarn.

This was in one of the bags.


I'm guessing by the price ($3.79) that it dates to the 1980s. And it's awful.

In so many ways, it's awful.

Oh, the colour is nice -- simple, clear white. No issues with that.

And it looks pretty good -- a mohairy sort of thing. I like a good mohair.

Here's what's awful about it.... look at the back of the label.



Let me count the ways.

There's the fibre content -- 36% Acrylic, 30% Viscose, 24% Mohair and 10% Nylon.

And yet even with all that, they demand it be washed by hand.

Then I look for the normal info I'm used to finding on a yarn label... a gauge, maybe? Yardage info? There's nothing. Yeah, ok, a suggested needle size -- which in itself is sorta an odd one.

I wonder how much of the fall in popularity of knitting in the 1970s and 80s can be blamed on this sort of idiocy? If you don't provide gauge or yardage, you are dooming this yarn to be used only for the patterns published, for all but the most adventurous of knitters.

I can sort of understand a yarn company wanting to drive more sales of their own patterns, but knitters like to have options. Knitters want to be able to fall in love with a yarn and find a pattern that suits their own tastes. And to be limited to the handful of patterns that are published by the yarn company seems just frustrating. Not to mention foolish as a sales strategy.

A darker, less helpful time.

FO: Black socks; Previous Generations of FOs

Just in time for the dog days of summer, black wool socks.

We watched a movie the other day that was filmed here in Toronto back in February. My god, the snow.... In this hot, hazy, humid weather, it was sort of nice to be reminded that these socks will actually be useful in the future, but it was also quite terrifying to contemplate the 4 foot high banks of snow.

On a related note, I've been lucky enough recently to be gifted with a selection of vintage pattern books, from a couple of knitters' stashes. Some tremendous books....

It's fascinating to examine the progression of styles and techniques. Some of the designs are utterly timeless, others so incredibly of their time that I can't imagine that they were considered fashionable for more than about 10 minutes.

Click to embiggen this one to see a few. Love the name for the tunic-length sweater: a "seat cover".

The Beehive Winter Headgear book made me laugh... on a balaclava pattern, I found annotations in my husband's grandmother's handwriting, with his measurements. He doesn't recall having such winter headgear; I suggested that post-traumatic stress disorder might be causing him to block the memory. This was a Beehive book of the 1970s, after all. The yarns used are all various acrylic horrors. Could you imagine wearing an acrylic balaclava???

BSJ Yarn Requirements: Thinking About It the Wrong Way

A helpful commenter suggested a way to slightly shorten the BSJ and save myself a bit of stress about the yarn requirements... there's 10 even rows in the middle that could be reduced or even omitted.

But after admiring all these wonderful pictures of completed BSJs online and in Ravelry, I had a thought. I really shouldn't be working it in one colour at all. It's screaming out for stripes, to show off the interesting construction.

Back to the stash.

I actually have four colours of this yarn in varying quantities... I have the same quantity of a red mix (which, I must confess, I was saving for something else, possibly a hat), a teeny tiny bit of a black mix, and about a full ball's worth of light pink.

All sorts of possible combinations result...




I think I'm going for the strawberry-pistachio combo... although I lose the non-gender specificity of the pistachio on its own, it does look great with the pink, and selfishly, it allows me to keep the red and black for another project.

New Project: Baby Surprise Jacket

I have a confession to make. I'm not ashamed, but it's not something I talk about very often.

I am not a fan of the designs of Elizabeth Zimmerman.

I love her writing, absolutely. I love the way she thinks about knitting. I'm definitely a fan of her mathematical analysis, and the freedom and flexibility she encourages in changing yarns, gauge and garment size. And I adore her architectural approach to knitting.

But I've never knitted a single design of hers. I suspect that it's all about EZ herself, and how she is built. I think, from looking at her photographs that she's much taller and broader of shoulder than I am, and she's definitely not as busty.

She builds all these raglans and seamless yoke pullovers that look just horrendous on me. I just don't have the shoulders for them.

There's been a fair bit of discussion of late about the Baby Surprise Jacket in my knitterly circles. It's never really fallen from favour, this design, and it's going through a trendy phase again. (Ravelry link.)

So I figure it's time to dip my toe into the wonderous world of the EZ construction.

And so I begin, with my copy of the Opinionated Knitter, a 4mm 24 inch circular needle, and some yarn from the stash. I've got 2 full balls of 140m each of this lovely bright green mix DK -- Australian Merino from Filtes King/Needful, and about another partial ball of about 25m... 305m in total. I've been madly googling and surfing Ravelry to get a sense of how much yarn this design requires.

Seems like it's anywhere between 280m and 330m...

Now, I do have some more of this yarn in a complementary colourway, a rather fun red mix, so I could add stripes, but the thrill-seeker in me sorta wants to see if I can eke the damn thing of the yarn I have.

What do you think? Worth the gamble?

Two Things: Olympics and Socks

I've been quietly following the discussion about the Summer Knitting Olympics.

I laughed out loud the other day... someone was saying she wouldn't participate because she doesn't enjoy watching the events in the summer, doesn't like spending that much time in front of the TV in the summer. It had never actually occurred to me that actually watching the Olympics was a prerequisite for participation...

If it is, I should return my medal from the last one....

On a different note, I'm working on my black socks.


Very seasonal, I know. Hot hazy humid weather - ideal for knitting black wool socks.

The eagle-eyed would have noticed that although I have a fairly extensive wardrobe of socks, they're all fairly bright and wildly coloured. Sometimes, a girl needs a pair of reasonably plain dark socks.

I'm on a tear... this fall will be all about dark and neutral socks. Not aways plain, but dark and neutral. These are the first - the body is a mostly black with white flecks yarn that I found in a bargain bin, and the cuff, heel and toe are plain black. (There was only one 50g ball of the flecky yarn, and there was no way I was going to get a full pair out of it.)

So yes, first of a series of dark socks.

Reader Mail: Teresa's Question About Basic Ribbed Sock

Teresa asks a question about my Basic Ribbed Sock pattern...

I've enjoyed this pattern, but have hit a snag, if you will. I'm at this point in the pattern:

Re-establish Round and Create Gusset:
Knit all heel stitches. Using that same needle, pick up and knit 15 stitches along selvedge edge at side of heel, using slipped stitches as a guide.

I've picked up 15 stitches, but still have about 9 stitches to pick up before I get to the 33 stitches on the holder. In the directions prior to shaping the heel, I did 21 rows of stocking stitches, so it seems like I should be picking up at least 21 stitches.

Any advice?

All you need is 15 stitches, spaced evenly along the edge of the heel flap. If you slipped the first stitch of every row on the heel flap, you'll find that those double height (i.e. two-row tall) stitches are a nice guide for where to pick up.

Hope this helps!

Because it really is... The Perfect Turtleneck

(No modeled pictures, sorry... have you seen the weather???)

I usually take (or wear) this sweater to my Cables 101 classes. It's always admired, and I'm often asked about it.


(horrible pic, sorry, having camera trouble)

It's a Paton's pattern, from a book called Urban Neutrals, and it's called, aptly enough, the Perfect Turtleneck. And it really is.

It's chunky and a quick knit, and it's beautifully tailored so it really doesn't add bulk in the way that you'd think a chunky cabled sweater would. Tons of fun to knit, and fab to wear. Another knitter's version, with a different centre cable can be found here. Ravelry page is here.

It seems like the pattern booklet might be out of print, but there's at least one online store that still lists it. I've also heard that the booklet can be found in some of the larger, older yarn stores that have older stock. (In Toronto, that would be Romni.)

There's a swatching story connected to this. (There is for many of my projects, have you noticed that?) I swatched for this three times before I decided on the yarn. The pattern calls for Paton's Up Country, which is their since-discontinued Lopi clone. My LYS at the time (I knitted it 6 or 7 years ago) didn't stock that yarn, so I tried two others before I simply went back to the source and used actual Lopi. The challenge with super bulky yarns (13 sts per 4 ins) is that they're often very lofty, and they really don't have the substance I wanted to stand up to the cables and show them off. I was getting the gauge right all along, but it didn't look right. It was absolutely worth it the trouble, I love this sweater. So much that I'm thinking of doing one in a different colour.

It's very unusual for me to work a garment in the colour of the sample in the pattern. I'm slightly sheepish about it in this case, precisely because I'm always encouraging people to personalize their garments, and I wear it so often to classes. I really wanted to work it in a warm, creamy winter white "aran" colour, but I blame my choice on the colours available in my LYS at the time. The light grey is lovely to show off the stitch work, and it is a good colour on me. So yes, the next one will either be the perfect aran colour, or in black.

I will be honest, it's not the softest of sweaters... but I rinse it with a good old cream hair conditioner and wear a tshirt under it.. My particular version is NOT for the wool-sensitive. It could be knitted out of steel wool, I'd still wear... it really is perfect.

Food for Thought - On the Olympics

As mentioned before, the Harlot is not participating in, coordinating, or promoting any specific knitting activity around the Olympics. She cites her reasons here.

There is some discussion of boycott.

As I've already posted, I've chosen to participate. I enjoy the challenge, I'm looking forward to having an excuse to knit something for myself (instead of samples and designs for other people), and I need some encouragement to tackle steeking and colourwork. Political concerns really aren't foremost in my mind.

I'm not one to shout my politics from the rooftops (although I will sing along at the top of my lungs at a Billy Bragg concert). Perhaps that's good, perhaps that's bad. Do I want to condone human-rights abuses? Of course not.

I choose not to judge anyone's decision about participation, either way. Knit, or not. Crochet, or not. Do what you feel is right for yourself.

There are formal events being organized on Ravelry. I'm not feeling any particular need to get involved that way... I just want to knit.

Harmony DPNs - I will never go back

I've been working on a couple of sock designs, all cables and twisted stitches.

I'm using my Harmony DPNs.

It's amazing how much of a difference the right tools will make.

I do like the bamboo DPNs, but when I'm working twists and cables, I've always been a bit worried that they'll snap, and the points were never really pointy enough. And I've had the points shred, so that they're no longer smooth.

The Harmony needles make a huge difference. They're very hard -- and no matter how many purl-through-the-back-loops I work, no matter how many cables-without-cable-needles, no matter how much acrobatics I do with them, I feel completely confident that they'll hold. And the lovely, long, elegant, sharp points make it all so very easy.

I'm absolutely a convert.

Knitting Olympics

A commenter has posted that she wasn't sure that the Harlot was "doing" the Olympics this year.

Given that the Olympics are all about dedication to one's sport and personal challenge, I'm not really worried about whether other knitters are participating.

If the Harlot, doesn't, I will miss the gold medal graphic, but otherwise there's absolutely no difference for me.

I have a challenge in mind, and this is a good way to tackle it.

Citius, Altius, Steekius.

All This Talk of Le Tour de Fleece

and the nice man on the radio pointed out that the opening ceremonies for the Olympics are a month today...

I realize that I need to get myself organized for the Knitting Olympics.

I have my pattern chosen -- Eunny Jang's steeked argyle vest. There's two reasons for this choice (other than that it's a terrific design, and exactly the sort of thing I would wear) -- it's colourwork, and it's steeked. (Click the link for a very clear and helpful definition courtesy of Wikipedia.)

The steeking choice is simple: I've never done it before. (Insert obligatory "Kipling" joke here.) It's one of the few strange and wonderful knitting techniques I've never actually tried. And since I talk about it in my sock classes (in the context of "hey, really, I promise you'll get the hang of knitting in the round... and in fact, some people have such a strong preference for knitting in the round over knitting flat that they'll knit cardigans in the round and cut them") , I figured I really should give it a go.

And the colourwork.. .well, it's a side effect... because after all, steeking is used predominantly in the context of Fair Isle. (Not always, but most often.)

But if truth be told, I tend to actively avoid most colourwork. When I was first knitting, I did a fair bit of both Fair Isle and Intarsia -- designed a few baby sweaters with stripes and dots and various geometric shapes.

And there's the infamous penguin sweater. More on that later.

But I gave it up in favour of socks and cables and lace and other interesting textural work.

Other than some wild stripes, the most recent colourwork project was a houndstooth felted bag which took me a good couple of years to finish. And that was nearly three years ago.

So it's time to pick up some colourwork again, to refresh my skills -- and to try steeking!

Actively Resisting

Nope.

Sorry, definitely not. No way.

I will not take up spinning.

I mean, spinning seems fun and interesting. And I love the idea of making my own yarn.

And the concept of Le Tour de Fleece does make me chuckle.

But no.

I don't have enough time in the day to knit as it is. And the idea that I'd be spending time not knitting, first of all, but then creating more yarn that I have less time to knit.

Away with you, you and your gorgeous fleeces and beautiful spinning wheels and tempting handspun. Away!

Indeed, Socks Do Happen

I usually grab a handful of socks from my drawer when I'm heading out to teach a sock knitting class. I've been asked often enough how many pairs of hand-knitted socks I've got.

Since it's summer, and none of them are in the laundry, now's the time to get an accurate count.

16 pairs of socks -- all my own work -- are in regular circulation in my sock drawer.

Including the latest pair.

Yes, I'm in the tub.

I think I've already mentioned this before, but my foolproof method for blocking socks is to get them wet and then put them on. I don't actually leave them on -- just get 'em on and off and then let 'em dry. Easy.

The other night I was having a nice, soothing bath. And I had a pair of socks sitting on the counter in the bathroom, waiting to be blocked.

There I was, in the tub, looking at the socks. Hey, my feet were already wet -- why the heck not? A pair of perfectly blocked socks and a story my husband will be telling for years...

Law and Order: Special Knitters Unit

It's no secret that I'm a TV knitter. I love knitting in front of the TV -- whether I'm watching The Daily Show, the news, Battlestar Galactica, or anything in the vein of a procedural mystery. If it's got a body and the police, I'll watch it.

Law & Order is great knitting TV, not only because there are seven million episodes to choose from, across the four associated series, but because they've got enough expository dialogue that you don't necessarily need to be actually watching to follow the story. "So, Doc, you're saying that this wound, here, in our victim... this gunshot wound... the one that killed him... this was caused by a gun?"

An episode of Law & Order: Criminal Intent I watched this weekend actually used knitting as a plot point. I nearly fell off my chair laughing. The mother of a suspect was sending notes to him while he was in jail, concealed in the underarms of sweaters she was knitting for him...

I don't know... it's hard enough to get a good fitting armhole and sleeve as it is without hiding jailhouse contraband in it.

Stitch Dictionaries

You might have noticed I'm knitting a lot of lace at the moment. I am also about to start into a design for some cabled socks.

I was recently asked how I come up with "all those clever patterns". The stitch patterns.

Stitch dictionaries, of course.


These are books that contain nothing but instructions for working various stitch patterns. No garments, no discussion, no techniques. Just stitch patterns. Pictures of swatches and instructions.


It was years before I bought one -- I couldn't imagine why on earth I would need such a thing. Even when I started designing, I still didn't need one, because I wasn't doing anything fancy -- no lace, no complicated colourwork, no fancy cables.

But I kept reading about how fabulous these books are... Barbara Walker's 4 volumes and the long out of print but beloved Mary Thomas book, in particular. (Newsflash! It's back in print! Thank you Dover! Marsha at the Needle Arts Book Shop tracked a used copy down for me a few years ago.)

I bought my first, one of the Barbara Walker Treasuries, 5 years ago. And though I paged through it with interest, it was another couple of years before I actually used it. First time I used it, I was creating a simple lace scarf and I needed a lace stitch pattern.

The rest, as they say, is history. Now I won't start a project without first paging through all my stitch dictionaries.

Even if the garment is worked in good old plain stocking stitch (which, if truth be told, it rarely is), I consult the stitch dictionaries for interesting ideas for ribbing and edges. I love working fancy cuffs on plain socks.

You'd be amazed how many different stitch patterns there are; even changing a single stitch in a group of 8 or 10 can change the look radically. Yes, there's definitely overlap between the books, but each has its own unique ideas. The books also differ in how the patterns are presented -- written or charted -- or in my ideal world, both.

And yes, once I find a pattern I like, I do swatch. To see how it looks with the yarn I've chosen, to see how it feels, to see how it works for the design I have in mind.

I've been working on a lace sweater, and the challenge there is finding a stitch pattern that's nice and open and lacy, but still has enough structure to retain the shape of a garment.

I've only recently added the Vogue Stitchionaries to my collection... and I have an issue with them, particularly the first one. There are some great patterns, and enough new and interesting ones to make the book a worthwhile addition to the genre -- but some of the swatch pictures are terrible....


This is a lace design. Yup, in the instructions, there are a fair number of yarn overs to create eyelets, but I'll be damned if I can see them in the swatch picture. I don't have any complaints about the knitting, but my god, the swatches should have been blocked. If it doesn't look attractive, I'm not going to try it. And as I've proven below, a lace swatch simply doesn't look attractive if it's not blocked sufficiently. And few in the book's lace section have been blocked sufficiently.

The basic swatches are fine, but whoever was responsible for the lace chapter needs to rethink her/his work.

The Cables book, Volume 2, is much stronger. There are both written and charted instructions for all patterns, and the photos are much clearer. But be warned about Volume 1 - it rather spoils an otherwise good set of books.

With Apologies to John Lennon

Socks are what happens to you when you're busy making other plans.

I've got a couple of design projects on the go, for which I've been swatching...

and knitting

and blocking...
There are deadlines on both, which mean that I'm working pretty hard on them... lots of focused knitting, at home, in the car, in public, the works.

But somehow, in the in between moments, I seem to have almost finished a pair of socks...


They're what I call emergency socks, in emergency sock yarn. Paton's Kroy 4-ply in the colourway "Paintbox". I bought it, on sale, at Michael's, in one of those "hey, you can never have enough sock yarn, I might need it someday" sort of moments.

And the socks themselves got started when I needed a car project, when neither of the design projects was at a car-appropriate stage. That is, when they needed attentive knitting.

And yes, somehow, they've got themselves just about finished. Socks are what happens to me when I'm busy making other projects...

On a different note, I've used this yarn before, and I do like it. It's well-priced, good quality, hard wearing, good old nylon and wool blend sock yarn. All the ones listed on the Patons' site seem to be 4-ply, but they used to make a finer, 3 ply variant. The 4-ply is nice, but the socks are thicker and I'm not sure they're as easily fitted in shoes. I do hope they haven't discontinued the 3-ply.

To A., Who I Met Last Night

There's a woman out there in Toronto who's an excellent spinner -- working on her Master Spinner certification, no less. She confessed to me that she doesn't really know how to knit...

I asked her what she does with the yarn. "Not much."

I wonder if she's taking applications to be her friend???

Fixing Mistakes: A Forest and Trees Problem

I'm working a lace design at the moment.

Hey, on a different but related note... here's the pre- and post-blocking pictures of the lace swatch, and the actual garment piece.

And they say that blocking isn't worth it...

Anyway, yes, working on a lace design. The stitch pattern is simple enough, a 6-stitch repeat. I was knitting away, while watching TV last night, and I discovered I'd made a small mistake. Nothing serious, but it was 6 rows down.

Easy enough, I thought. I can fix this without pulling rows back.

About 45 minutes later, still working away, I began to wonder... at what point does cleverness stop being the right way to go? I spend about an hour fixing the problem in place. But if I'd taken the simple route, and just pulled back the 6 rows and re-knitted them, it would probably have taken less time, and would certainly have required less foul language.

If truth be told, I'm still not wildly happy with the in-situ fix, as the stitches are a bit loose.

It would be great if there was a way to even out the tension.... hey... wait... what was I talking about up there.... ?

Blocking!

Happy WWKIP day!

I will be celebrating the way I know best. By knitting.

In public.

Every Day? In Public? In Public Every Day?

This has come up more than once in my knitting classes... I'm asked if I knit every day... (often with a slightly incredulous tone.)

I'm typically asked this when I talk about how long it takes to make a sweater. My favourite question, if only because I can answer it with my favourite snappy reply of all time: "Well, you know, it's sort of a 'how long is a piece of string' question."

Damn skippy I knit every day. Several times a day. I knit in front of the TV, and even if it's only 20 minutes of my favourite 24 hour news channel, there's daily TV watching.

And I knit when I'm on the phone as much as possible. And god knows that happens several times a day. And when I'm on public transport -- not daily but several times a week. And then when I'm in a line (often) or waiting at the dentist (this morning, as a matter of fact) or in a restaurant waiting for my salad to arrive (last night), or waiting for my friends to arrive at the bar (last Friday), or ... you get the idea.

Which brings me to the next question I'm hearing a lot at the moment... June 14th, this Saturday, is World Wide Knit In Public Day. "Do you knit in public?"

This makes me chuckle. I do know lots of people who only knit at home -- my Mum, for one, since her favourite type of project is a big complicated sweater that simply cannot be carted around. But as a lace and sock knitter, I knit in public as much as humanly possible. And I've done it in various locations around the world... photos from my vacation being proof....

This is all partially for practical reasons -- I'm often knitting on a deadline, and I need to maximize my knitting time. But it's also for the simple reason that it's the best possible way I can think of to pass the time.

For me, every day is World Wide Knit in Public day.

On Casting Off

So I mentioned that I'd had to mess with the cast off for the Scurvy shawl.

The cast off I use most frequently for lace knitting is the "Russian Lace bind-off"... explained nicely here. It is indeed nice and stretchy, but it's...... errr...

...I guess the best way to describe it is that it's high profile. Since you're working each stitch twice, you're working a full extra row, and as purl stitches. Which means that they sit higher, and stand out more.

It's a good cast-off, absolutely, but I didn't like how it looked against the garter edging.

So I ripped that back, and I tried the good old "k1, k1, lift first stitch over second" cast-off. You know, the first one you were taught. It is lovely. Very simple and elegant. But it's tight. You have to work fairly hard to even get it at the same tension as the knitting. It's a classic beginner problem, a too-tight cast off. It's not easy.

But then if you're trying to to allow stretch for blocking... Definitely a challenge.

The only answer is to use a larger needle. A MUCH larger needle. I had decent success using a 5.5 mm needle (having worked the shawl with a 3.5mm needle) and staying very relaxed.

It worked. If push came to shove, there's probably a bit more blocking room in the lace, and not quite enough in the cast-off, but I'm quite content with it the way it is.

FO: The Scurvy Shawl

About time, too.

This yarn was the result of a couple of pints, a boxing day sale, and a cold, dark winter.

It's Malabrigo Lace, in a colourway that no-one has ever seen anywhere else, and can't be found on their website. You wouldn't be out of line to suggest that it was an unfortunate mistake in the dyeing vats.

However, it in the depths of winter, it reminded me of nothing more than a shot of lively citrus fruits.

And so inspired, I sought out a semi-circular design, something that would take actually work with the citrusy nature of the colourway.

And I found a "cocoon" stitch that on the wrong side, looks entirely like the flesh of a citrus fruit.

You can see it in this picture -- click to embiggen.


And so was born the Scurvy Shawl - a knitted slice of orange. To combat scurvy, you see.

I've been working it on and off since January, and decided a few weeks ago to focus to actually get it done. The problem with semicircular (and triangular) shawls is that as they get closer to being done, the rows get longer, and therefore take longer to do. As its biggest, I was working over 400 stitches per row. Takes a while. The last 20 or so rows took me well over 8 hours.

I took it with me on vacation, and worked on it during our train journey from Cannes to London. Great scenery, a big bag of food we'd bought the morning of our departure at the local market in Cannes, some good music, and a knitting project I was desperate to finish -- it was a great day. I wasn't quite done by the time we hit London, but a couple of pub evenings and a trip or two on the underground and I was just about complete. I started the cast-off a couple of times... my usual "Russian lace bind off" (which I'll explain later) didn't look good in the context of the garter edging. And not having any larger needles with me, a standard cast-off was simply too tight. So I reluctantly packed it up and brought it home unfinished.

The final cast off, which a 5.5mm needle (compared to the 3.5mm on which I worked the shawl) looked good against the garter edging, and had enough stretch to accommodate the blocking.

I finished it up Monday, blocked it Tuesday (blocking wires, clothespins and my laundry rack... much quicker than pinning it to the floor)


and was wearing it by Wednesday.

It's a single skein of the Malabrigo Lace -- I did buy two, and I might have to see if I the shop that sold it to me is willing to take the extra back. I'm not sure I see how I need anything else in this colourway in my wardrobe right now...

It's modestly sized, but just perfect for a soft, warm little scarf with a light coat. And my god, it's soft and warm.

Very pleased with it, in the end. I'm just sorry the weather's suddenly got too hot for wearing wool scarves...

A visitor to my blog recently commented that she loves travel knitting, as the finished object will always carry with it the associations with the places it was worked. A train in the south of France in early seems like an entirely appropriate place to associate with this project...

What I Did On My Summer Holidays

I'm on the train! Knitting on the train!

That big plastic bag may well have been full of crisps and chocolate. I will neither confirm nor deny it.

What knitting did I get done? I finished up the scurvy shawl, all but the cast-off. I completed one and a bit socks for a design assignment, and got about a third of the way into another sock....

The tweedy black and white is the mystery unlabelled sock yarn. I'm working the the heel, toe and ribbing in plain black and there will be enough of the tweedy yarn for a pair. Of course, we came back to full on hot and humid summer, so it's probably going to be a while before I need black wool socks. But hey, it's good to be prepared.

On that note, I didn't get anywhere near the Misti Alpace laceweight I packed to take on holiday, nor the third ball of sock yarn. But my god, to run out of yarn would have been a bad bad thing.

In London

That's the Scurvy Shawl.

All the knitting is done, I just have to redo the cast off. I didn't like how my usual lace cast-off looked against the garter edging, and a normal cast-off was just too tight with the same size needles.

Need to redo it with a larger needle.