The Threads That Bind Us Together

Knitting is in my blood. My great-great-grandmother knitted socks, my great-grandmother taught me to knit, my grandmother has never been without a project in her knitting basket and my mother loves knitting socks although she prefers to crochet.

According to my grandmother, my great-great-grandmother, Ingeborg,  "threw" her knitting and it was not until I moved to the UK I understood what she meant. Ingeborg knitted in the English manner. I continue to wonder about Ingeborg throwing rather than picking (i.e. the Continental way). Where did she learn a style which is not used in Denmark? Who taught her? I wish I knew more about her.

Now my grandmother has expressed a desire to get "something knitted" from me for Christmas. Gran used to knit sample sweaters for a local yarn shop and you should see the fair isle sweaters she used to knit for me. Of course I cannot find any photos of them (and she gave them all to charity at one point, annoyingly), but I remember them as being stunning. My particular favourite was one knitted in Faroese colourwork (two colours, geometric patterns) in bright red and dark green. I know she still has the pattern and I harbour dreams of recreating it.

On the photo above  you can see me aged five or thereabouts. I'm wearing one of Gran's creations: it looks like brioche stitch to me with set-in sleeves. I'll spare you the other photo I found. It was a zipped cardigan with a hood done in lilac. I've always hated zips in knitwear, wearing a hood and the colour lilac. Now I know why. A childhood trauma, clearly.

But what do you knit for a woman whose knitting I have worn since I was a baby?

The obvious answer is lace.

Gran has never knitted much lace, much preferring cables, brioche stitch and colourwork. When I knitted a scarf for my mother last year, Gran kept talking about the fine detailing and the delicate stitches. My family does not do "subtle" very well.

I looked in my stash and uncovered a beautiful hank of Old Maiden Aunt merino/silk in "Gothic". Then I looked at a gazillion lace shawls on Ravelry before deciding to go with a pattern I have used before: the good, old Swallowtail shawl by Evelyn A. Clark. It is one of the prettiest shawl patterns available, I've knit it twice before and know its pitfalls, and I know I can get it done in plenty of time for the holidays even if I'm going to enlargen it slightly (it is a bit dainty).

Think my Gran will like it? I think so.

FO: Autumn Ishbel and Introducing Paprika

My third (and arguably last) Ishbel shawl. This time I am keeping it for myself. I have previously waxed poetically about the yarn and the start of the project, so I'm not going to repeat myself. It suffices to say that a) the yarn drapes beeeeeautifully and b) I shouldn't ever bring lace knitting to my knitting group. Ishbel is a pretty easy pattern, but it still requires you pay attention to where you are in your pattern. Knitting group does not encourage silly things like "attention" and "concentration". And so I had to rip back, pick up stitches  and knit on. Obviously my Ishbel has a row of arty little holes where I didn't pay attention to picking up stitches properly.  My shawl is so soft and warm that I don't mind, but no more knitting lace at knitting group!

Fortunately I have just cast on a very mindless knit that should be impossible to mess up - even at the most raucous of knitting meetings. Francis Revisited is the simplest of pullovers: top-down, raglan, knit body in round, sleeves in round and then pick up stitches to knit a cowl. It'd be a perfect first big project for any beginning knitter, in fact.

I cast on last night and was able to separate for sleeves six hours later (with many interruptions), so this might be the fastest project ever. Being really quite hobbit-like, I'm thinking Francis Revisited Paprika will be my comfortable go-to pullover this winter (although I'm currently wearing Snorri non-stop). I'm going to lengthen the sleeves and the body - and the edgings will be different too. With a pattern this clean and simple, the tiny details really do make all the difference.

The yarn is Sirdar Peru, a woolblend, and I chose a lovely paprika red colour which I hope will brighten up those dark winter days ahead. It has a definite "acrylic" feel to it (which I expected) but Peru knits up very well with good stitch definition. It is loosely spun and almost feels like a single ply, but I'm hoping the acrylic content will keep it from pilling. The colour sequencing could have been more subtle, but that is a minor concern.

I'm also going to cast on a new lace project this weekend as my gran informed me she would love a shawl for Christmas. She is a knitter herself and I'm honoured. I just need to figure out which yarn to use (I have a sizeable laceweight stash) and decide on a suitable pattern. Pattern suggestions are, of course, warmly welcomed.

Here We Go Again..

I've dug out two skeins of Drops Alpaca in order to make a third Ishbel shawl. I have given the other two versions away and thought a third one would a) be an easy knit which is perfect for knitting group and b) I'd like one to keep my neck warm this autumn. I'm still not sold on the pattern - there is something about the lace repeats that doesn't give me that lace-knitting buzz - but it is a quick knit and it looks pretty. Most of my knitting pleasure is derived from the yarn and its gorgeous heathered orange colour. Drops Alpaca is, of course, one of my desert island yarns. It comes in an amazing range of colours, has excellent yardage, knits up beautifully whether you choose to treat it as a fingering weight or as a light DK (!), is eminently affordable, and is deliciously warm and snuggly. I can't think of a single bad thing to say about it.

It's funny. I am very, very fond of so-called "rustic" yarns: yarns that feel like they've just leapt off the sheep and into your hands with very little work gone into them. I love that connection to nature - and yet if I were to select three yarns to bring with me on a long, lonely journey (or desert island), none of them would be particularly rustic. I'd select Drops Alpaca, Noro Cashmere Island and Malabrigo - all soft, commercial yarns with a high degree of processing gone into them. Go figure.

Also on the needles:

• My Pine cardigan is still with me and I have one sleeve, the yoke and the buttonbands to go. I can't consider it an unfinished object because I still want to finish it and wear it. I'm just dreading the yoke bit because the instructions leave a lot to be desired. Also still worried about my yarn amount.
• I have one fair-isle glove finished and should really get around to knitting the other. I was ready to give up on the gloves but was persuaded otherwise by my knitting group who thought they were lovely and Other Half who thought they looked "quite 1940s". I'm a sucker. I'm going to knit the second one. Soon.

I also tried casting on for Rosamund's Cardigan out of the recent IK, but the designated yarn did not work. I suppose that tells me that I should just get back to working on Pine..

FO: Snorri

This is Snorri, my new favourite sweater. It is named for an Icelandic scholar who wrote down Norse mythology and skaldic verse in the 11th century I used the Spring Morning (Vormorgun) top by Védís Jónsdóttir as a starting point but added a fair share of modifications in order to get exactly what I wanted: a warm winter sweater. Having just done a photo shoot outside in September in Scotland, I can honestly say that this is the warmest sweater I have ever worn. Phew.

Modifications, then. You can get the full low-down at its Ravelry project page, but here are some things I did differently. The largest size rings in at a whopping 36 inches, so I decided to add an extra pattern repeat and go up a needle size to accommodate my bust. The result is admittedly snug - but in a way which suits my taste and body shape (I hope). I did a lot of shaping through using various needle sizes in an ingenious fashion.

The biggest change is that Snorri has sleeves whereas Védís' pattern does not. I added sleeves in a slightly unorthodox manner: I used a provisional crochet cast-on for the sleeve caps/yoke, unzipped the cast-on after finishing the yoke, picked up stitches from under the arms and knitted the sleeves top-down. It was easier than my explanation makes it sound. My modus operandi was completely improvised, featured some sharp decreases but it looks nice and, hey, Snorri has functional sleeves!

After the sweater was done, I decided that the bottom rib was too loose for my liking, so I put a pair of scissors to my sweater, picked up stitches and re-knit the bottom rib on smaller needles. Ms Yarn Harlot has written an easy explanation as how to do this in case you don’t know how. It’s easy, trust me, and it is one of the most useful knitting tricks I know.

I love this sweater and I loved making it. Lett Lopi is fabulous to work with and I'd knit another Lopi sweater in a heartbeat if I had to. The wool is itchy but it is not meant to be worn right next to the skin, so I've stocked up on long-sleeved tees. Seriously,  I love every little aspect of this knit - including the heritage aspect of it which is becoming increasingly important to me as a knitter.

My Army of Birds & Gulls

Tomorrow is a Finished Object day, but today you are getting a New Object! It is the February Beret knitted up in New Lanark Donegal Tweed DK in the russet colourway. It is an easy pattern - particularly if you have made the February baby sweater or the February lady sweater as you will already be familiar with gull lace stitch. (Incidentally, the gull lace stitch inspired me to call my hat "My Army of Birds & Gulls" which is the name of a very, very good song by a now defunct NZ band, Betchadupa.)

I am actually not a huge fan of this particular yarn. I adore the pure wool New Lanark yarns, but the silk/wool yarns seem like they have randomly added cheap silk nupps to the base yarn. The russet colourway falls particularly victim to this as the lilac silk nupps clash horribly with the orange-red wool.  It has a strange feel to it too.

Future Projects, then. Knitting friends believe that I will go mad if I attempt NaKnitSweMoDo (National Knit a Sweater a Month Dodecathon) and since they know my knitting ways better than most people, I trust their judgement. But I have imagined projects in my head that I want desperately to make into solid knitted objects:

• I have one particular pullover in mind that I want to knit. It will be black but with interesting, colourful and sparse detailing. It's one of those from the top of my head, so I cannot link you to any pattern.
• As you will see tomorrow, I have finished my first colourwork-yoked project and I want to make another - but make it an entirely different experience in another yarn. I'll need to think hard about this one.
• A sign of impending madness perhaps, but I want to knit an ultra-feminine pullover in something akin to KidSilk Haze. Ultra-feminine and possibly vintage pattern?
• Rosamund's Cardigan is my obsession du jour. I have many modifications in mind - including the ever-present "long sleeves!" modification which goes without saying if you live in Scotland. Another one to ponder.
• And now something which may shock some, but I'm going to rip out my first-ever pullover (Rav link) and reknit the yarn into something that I will actually like wearing. Seeing as we're talking Noro Kureyon yarn here, the shape will need to be super-simple to make the colours really pop.

And those are just the first five things...

I'm a Crazed Knittah

I think knitters bring their own special brand of craziness to the craft. There is the compulsive stashing of yarns, of course, and the obsessing over hard-to-get yarns (Wollmeise and Sundara, anyone?). Add to that Opinions on the best knitting needles, the right techniques and the right way to knit wool from a ball. Knitters with a capital K could be called outspoken obsessive-compulsive perfectionists, but I'm sure most of us consider ourselves to be little fluffy balls of zen (Knitters with a capital K can be a tad self-delusional sometimes: "I need that ball of yarn, yes I do"). I'm mentioning this because I am beginning to worry about myself. Whilst I have been knitting my Lopi sweater (pictured left), I have been thinking about where to take my knitting. I'm not talking about taking my knitting to the park or on public transport - I'm referring to what I want to DO with my knitting. I rediscovered knitting a few years back and at first I had modest goals: make a sweater, learn Magic Loop and do a lace shawl. This year has been about knitting at least twelve items in twelve months (and I've knocked that one out of the ballpark), learning intarsia and how  to spin. Where to go, I wondered?

Firstly, one of my next projects will be to knit an entire sweater in a KidSilk Haze-type yarn. For those uninihiated, KSH is thin, slippery and maddingly tough to work with. Secondly, I'm considering doing NaKniSweMoDo next year.

NaKniSweMoDo equals knitting twelve adult-sized sweaters in twelve months. It's slightly mad, but I've done the math and I think it is entirely doable. An adult-size sweater for me equals 1000yrds of worsted weight yarn and so far this year I have knitted around 13,000yrds already with three months left to go. I have concerns though: I do not know whether I will have as much knitting time next year (or whether I'd have even more!), I might grow mad and sad only knitting sweaters all the time and while my stash is .. er .. substantial .. I would need to buy quite a bit of wool in order to make twelve sweaters (and surely I should work on a stashdown?).

Am I nuts?

Anyway. My lovely Lopi sweater is nearing completion. I have eight rows of the yoke's colourwork to do and then just the sleeves. It looks really nice on me and I'm very pleased. I have named it Snorri after an 11th Icelandic scholar who wrote down skaldic poetry and Norse mythology. It seemed apt.