Creative Reminiscing Part 1: Knitting

I find it interesting that regardless of the number or variety of thoughts that pass through my mind while I’m knitting, painting or baking, I generally end up reminiscing about how I learned to do whatever I’m doing, and about those who taught, influenced or encouraged me as I was learning to do it. Certain things have come to be a part of who I am – for instance, people know I knit. They know that if someone at work or my Hubby’s work announces a pregnancy, I’m going to make baby stuff. They also know that if they don’t tell me color preferences or at least gender, I’m going to pick something myself, but either way there’s no getting out of the knitting thing. My obsession with making stuff out of yarn, however, is not what this blog entry is about. I suppose, now that it’s the harvest season, I’m of a mind to give thanks to those who have, at least in some way, helped me get where I am.

First, there’s my mother, rest her soul. When I was very young and she was a housewife, she made bread by hand (there were no home bread machines), sewed some of the clothes we wore to school, embroidered, used a small plastic loom to make Barbie clothes, etc. We always had bead crafting kits and other generally creative stuff available. Later when she had to work outside the home, we still always had paints, colored pencils and craft kits at the very least. I learned to crochet while I was in early elementary school, though no one actually sat down and taught me. I picked up the basics by watching my grandmother, rest her soul, who taught my older sister, and my aunt, who can crochet doilies without patterns, much the way I can churn out a sock. I consider doilies to be far more complicated than socks. My grandmother could crochet a huge bedspread with thin crochet cotton, probably without a pattern, but even with a pattern, I consider that impressive. I recall crocheting small bags to give as gifts as far back as 6th grade, which, as my children frequently remind me, was a very long time ago. When I was a senior in high school, my mother and I found a pattern we both wanted to make, and which I am now unable to locate, at least on the web. Fortunately, I have it memorized: it’s just a basic circle-in-square pattern using a puffy stitch, and I had to make hundreds of them to make the first blanket, which was a full-size comforter. I ended up having to give it away a few months after I made it. Naturally, I decided to make another shortly thereafter, but was tired of making blue circles with eggshell squares around them, so I made this instead:

These days, my biggest inspiration (enabler, really) is my hubby. Despite all the creative or crafty things I’ve learned to do over my lifetime, it wasn’t until he came along that I saw it as something other than a greedy little hobby. Before him, I thought of it all as impractical, selfish and expensive. Even knitting was just something I did in semi-secret: I didn’t have a lot of money, so making a sweater that cost more than simply purchasing one seemed, well, impractical, selfish and expensive. I did it anyway, and for the longest time, all I really worked on was a series of wavy blankets in RedHeart worsted weight. I could rationalize buying RedHeart: it’s not expensive at all. I could rationalize Susan Bates circular needles: also not expensive. I would never have been able to rationalize Skacel or Brittany needles, nor the more expensive yarns, and certainly not Vera, a wool winder or a swift. A blog about my secret passion would have been right out. What I did not realize at the time is that knitting provides a great deal more than an object. It’s not just a pair of socks or a blanket or sweater. For the recipient, it’s something that says someone cares enough to spend both time and money to make something special and personal. For me, knitting provides time to sort out my thoughts without sitting in my easy chair just drooling and staring at the walls. I’ve never been good at just sitting and doing nothing.

In being grateful for my hubby, I have to give kudos to his mom as well. I know that she encouraged him in many ways and that she is in part responsible for how wonderful he is. With that in mind, when my hubby asks me to make a blankie (or anything) for his mom, it’s an honor; the knowledge that he considers the product of my selfish little hobby to be something he wants to give his mother is incredibly gratifying. In fact, I just recently finished this one for her birthday:

It’s a bit simple, but it’s big and I wanted to get it to her sometime this century. The main body was knitted on Vera, and the border is made of cording that was hand-knitted directly onto the main body using DPN’s. Naturally, you can’t see the border in the photo because I didn’t have time to wash and block it before the birthday party. After all, I had two cakes to make:

Vera

I believe in past blogs I’ve mentioned my knitting machine Vera, but I’ve not discussed her story:

The first time I ever saw a home knitting machine was about 7 years ago when a roommate’s mother gave her one such machine, sans instruction books. We had a heck of a time figuring it out and it’s a wonder we didn’t break the thing. Ultimately, we did find some instructions and managed to make a couple of small items. Once I moved out, I forgot all about it until years later, when I saw one in a craft store. Given the price, I couldn’t buy one at the time, and would probably never have been able to rationalize getting one were it not for my Hubby, who all but insisted a couple of years ago. Since then, I’ve used Vera to make lots of things, mostly blankets and a few sweaters, though I also made a Christmas stocking with a bear and snowflake pattern. Vera’s great for making large and simple things quickly, though nothing beats hand-knitting for smaller or more complex items (Barbie clothes, socks, etc.). She makes it easy to deal with multiple colors, and cabling becomes rather simpler, too. One thing I like in particular is the ability to make a strip of, say, a blanket, and then make the next strip without having to sew them together later, because I hate sewing. (Okay, I don’t hate sewing, per se; I hate sewing knitting.)

In any case, Vera got her name because I keep her in a foam-lined rifle case when not in use:

Why a rifle case? The box she came in, while durable, was too short to store her in without complete disassembly (Johnny 5 says Nooooo!) and also had no padding, and the only case we could find anywhere that was suitable was the rifle case, into which she fits perfectly, minus the carriage. On my own, I’d have never thought to use a rifle case - it was my hubby who suggested it: he transports his Reaper miniatures (D&D) in a rifle case because it’s big enough to hold lots of them, even the largest ones.  

Note that the piece by my feline assistant's right shoulder is an extension, which does have to be removed to get Vera in the case:

There’s a scene in one episode of the TV series “Firefly” where Jayne Cobb mentions that he calls his “most favorite gun” Vera, and she is also referred to by name in a couple of later episodes and maybe even the movie, “Serenity,” if memory serves. Once we bought the rifle case to store my knitting machine in, the connection seemed obvious and she’s been Vera ever since. Her ‘nails’ are even painted - I used a shiny silver nail polish on the counter bumps that appear every 5 needles, which makes them easier to see from under the carriage when I need to make a color change. “…See, Vera? Get yourself all dolled up and you get taken places….”

New Dice Bag

This is the latest dice bag I’ve made for my Hubby. The outer layer is made of OnLine Linie 14 Trend Collection “Cedro” color 0108 (a narrow ribbon yarn with some silvery highlights that you can't see in the scan) using size 8 dpns; the liner is Omega Sinfonia Azul Rey color 833 (a sportweight yarn) using size 3 dpns.

The first photo shows the liner in progress (the wrong side of the outer layer is showing):

After knitting the outer part of the bag, I flip the bag inside-out, calculate the difference in number of stitches to get the same circumference, then pick up and knit so that the wrong sides will face each other, making sure to leave enough depth at the top for the bag to gather when the ties are inserted.

This is the outside of the finished bag (my hubby chose the skeleton key to adorn the outside):

This is the inside:

The ties are made from the same yarn as the liner, and are simply two strands of crocheted chain stitch.

You might wonder why a bag intended for 7 one-inch plastic dice would need a liner, since the dice are too big to fall out through the stitches. While the liner is technically not necessary, there are several reasons a liner is desirable. The most practical reason is that it ensures the 4-sided dice (the pointiest of the set; essentially a tiny pyramid) don’t poke through. The added thickness also helps insulate the dice when (not if) the bag gets dropped.  Both liner and outer layer stretch, so they can hold a lot of dice. This is important because we’re avid dice collectors, so rarely is there only one set in a bag. The extra layer also gives the bag a more luxurious feel, which can make a difference if you’re in mid-game battle, worried for your character, clutching your dice bag like your character's life depends on it, hoping the dice inside won’t fail you.  You can buy a thin, flimsy dice bag anywhere, but for the “lucky dice,” only the best will do.

Knitting Styles

I was working on a post about different knitting styles, and my journey in figuring out that there were different knitting styles, when I discovered that the kind folks at Knitting Daily had just posted one on that exact subject.

Perhaps I should give a bit of history on why I would post about such a subject in the first place. Originally, I learned to knit from the Better Homes and Gardens website around 9 years ago because I had a little book on knitted afghans and wanted to make one.

After finding the BHG site, it took me an hour to understand and successfully use the cast-on (the thumb cast-on, which is still the one I use). When I got to the instructions for the knit and purl stitches, it was even more difficult, largely because they show the yarn in the right hand. Having learned to crochet as a child, I couldn't help but hold the yarn in my left hand. Nonetheless, I managed to teach myself well enough to make a striped afghan and eventually a decent sweater, and I've been knitting ever since. Naturally, my knitting has evolved over the last 9 years as I've learned new techniques and corrected old ones.

Case in point, it took a couple of years and the use of someone's knitting machine for me to notice that the stitches in every other row of my knitting were twisted on everything I'd ever knitted. Astonished at my own lack of technique, I figured out on my own how to compensate, at first by turning the stitches before knitting them, which made knitting take twice as long, and then by knitting into the back of the stitch. Ultimately, I trained myself to wrap the yarn the other way on my knitted rows, which is still what I do.

Meanwhile, however, I was determined to find some written explanation somewhere that would tell me I wasn't simply knitting wrong. I flipped through countless books, hoping for an answer, but found only tiny pictures of perfect hands gracefully holding needles, yarn faithfully trailing off to the right. These looked nothing like the crazy wrap-around thing I have always done with my left hand to keep proper tension.

Finally, I found a book I've mentioned before, "The Knitting Answer Book," by Margaret Radcliffe. In it, she discusses the English-American vs. Continental-Germanic methods. At last, I felt vindicated in my knitting style and method of compensating.

I found that book a couple of years ago, and since then, it seems to me the various knitting styles are appearing in more and more publications, such as the above blog from Knitting Daily, in which the English-American method is also referred to as Throwing and the Continental-Germanic method is also called Picking. It turns out, my particular style looks very much like the last picture (Anna-Liza) in the Knitting Daily blog, with the occasional addition of wrapping the yarn around my left pinkie if the yarn is particularly slippery. I have even read of folks who have trained themselves to knit using both styles at the same time, apparently because it helps in dealing with multiple balls of yarn at once.

While my research on the subject was purely selfish, the discovery of varying knitting styles recently helped me teach someone to knit. A few weeks ago, a couple of friends came over, mostly to hang out and also so I could give one of them that long-awaited knitting lesson.

She had apparently learned to crochet long ago, so I tried to show her how I do it, i.e., the Germanic method, but it just didn't seem to work for her. The yarn seemed intent on going anywhere except where she wanted it to. Finally, I noticed she kept unconsciously putting the yarn in her right hand, so my mental light bulb went on and I showed her how to use the English method. She picked it right up and got her gauge even before we were done with her test swatch. I had never successfully held the yarn in my right hand before, but in showing her, I managed it that evening. Had I not already done the research, we probably both would have given up on it. Instead, she went home with a fairly decent project started. Of course, it still seems foreign to my hands to knit using the English method, but at least I can do it well enough to show someone else.

I guess the point is, if you manage to create the proper stitches and remember to compensate for any twisting, no knitting style can be said to be "wrong," as long as it's working for you. Arrgghh, matey, would ya be wantin' to knit and purl?

Circular Knitting Gauge

I've noticed that when I knit socks using a meticulously-knitted test swatch and exacting calculations, they tend to come out much larger than they should.  According to my favorite little book, "The Knitting Answer Book," by Margaret Radcliffe,

this is because I have a different gauge in knitting vs. purling.  I was actually aware that I purl much more tightly than I knit, but I didn't do the mental math on the effect it would have on my circular gauge until I had to re-do a pair of socks for my hubby 3 times before getting it right. 

I've changed to doing test swatches in seed stitch so as to even it out, and that gets pretty close, generally within a quarter of a stitch per inch.  Of course, if the intended recipient is handy, I've just been making socks toe-up and trying them on, with the increases stopping once the right circumference is reached.  Unfortunately, the intended recipient is not always handy, so Ms. Radcliffe suggests an alternative method: sliding the stitches back down the double-pointed needle and just wrapping the yarn loosely behind the swatch, thus knitting all rows without creating a garter stitch.  I'll have to try that. 

I highly recommend this book, by the way.  There are questions I've had about knitting that I could not get answered anywhere else, including what turned out to be different knitting styles, but that's a matter for another post.

Dice Bag

I'm making yet another dice bag for my Hubby. The outside is made with this multi-tonal blue from EllaRae:

I'm lining the bag with this blue-silver yarn from Lana Grossa:

It's for a port city-based campaign, and the intent of the outer color is to approximate the color of the sea.  The inner color has sky and sand hues and the two create yarns an interesting combination.  The bag isn't finished yet, but pics will be uploaded once it is.

Favorite Yarn Store - Woolie Ewe

This is my favorite yarn store, the Woolie Ewe:

 

They're very knowledgeable about yarn and all things yarn-related, and very nice people. They have a great selection of really beautiful yarns. I am fortunate that they're not closer to my house, or I'd be bankrupt.