I noticed quite a few hits in the past couple of days from people looking for my Visio knitting symbol stencils (templates). They're the tools I use to do all of the charts here on String. However those files appear to have gone astray. I'm having problems going back and editing the original posts to edit the links there, so I am offering up this set of links instead.

I've got two sets, both for older versions of Visio. For Visio 5 here's a Zip file containing the basic shape set, increases and decreases, and cables. And here's the same thing for Visio 2000. I know for a fact that my stencils work with Visio 5, Visio 2000 and the last version of Visio in MS Office 2003. I haven't had an opportunity to test the latest Visa version of Visio with my templates yet.

Here's a link to the original post describing my method, but in short - I've built a series of "alphabet blocks" each bearing a standard knit symbol. I build my patterns up block by block. I can group or rotate blocks as needed. Once my blocks are in order, I add chart notations, including my grids and row numbering, and a key. I can also use the same system for colorwork charting by assigning my desired colors either to the whole block, or to a small square unit in a block's center, as needed.

I offer up these stencils to anyone who wants to use them. For the record, I've heard that these blocks can be imported and used in other less expensive graphics programs including Edraw. I know that Edraw can open Visio files, but I don't know if it uses a stencil or template library that can import Visio stencils. I suspect that to adapt my symbols you'd take this Visio file containing most of my symbols, then use Edraw to open it and copy the symbols out.

If you do use my files to create your own charts, I'd greatly appreciate a link back or a line of acknowledgment in your final work. I hope that someone else finds these useful as I do.

Technorati : knitting

First, in answer to a question about how to draw up a loop, I do a normal pick-up one into one chain selvage (or bind off, or cast on) stitch, then I grab it and pull more yarn through, distending the newly made stitch until I've pulled a foot or more of yarn through. Once I've got the giant loop, I use it to knit the next two rows. When I've finished the two rows I grab the strand leading back to the ball and give it a firm tug to pull any left-over yarn back out of the loop, and to snick the newly knit piece up closely to the existing work. Here you see the loop being pulled through prior to knitting with it:

After much trial and error, I've hit on the best way to cast on for the strips in my modular knit Log Cabin Baby Blanket. (Wish I'd looked at yesterday's comments before all that fiddling and seen Karen's suggestion). Crocheting onto a knitting needle, like I do when I start off the waste chain for a provisional cast on, works nicely. It produces an even chain type edge, analogous to the strip's bind off and chain selvage edges. I've described crocheting on before, but here's another swag at it.

In the snap below I've stuck my crochet hook into the final stitch remaining after I've cast off the stitches on the last strip. I'm holding the working yarn BEHIND the target knitting needle, and I'm reaching OVER the needle with the crochet hook

I'm grabbing the working strand with the crochet hook and am about to pull the just-grabbed strand through the existing stitch (in effect, I'm making a crochet slip stitch).

Ignoring the errant strand of Smaller Daughter's hair in the shot above, what we wind up with is a stitch on the knitting needle. I've moved the working strand to the back of the knitting needle again, and am poised to make another.

Crocheting on works especially nicely for provisional cast-ons. Instead of crocheting a long chain THEN fiddling with the bumps on the back of the chain, trying to pick them up, this method produces the chain edge and mounts the stitches in one step. It's one of the core techniques I teach in my occasional "Crocheting for Knitters" workshop.

As you can see, my blanket is growing. According to the logic diagram, I'm in the middle of unit #7:

Finally, here's the working method. It's not a pattern because I am not giving yardage estimates, gauge or dimension. These log cabin blocks can be made to any size and assembled like a standard patchwork quilt, or the working logic can be used to make a larger object as a single square. For the record, I'm using Austermann Batika Color, a bulky weight yarn with a native gauge of 4 stitches per inch in stockinette, on 6mm needles. I'm getting roughly 4 stitches per inch and four garter ridges per inch in garter stitch on US #9s (5.25mm). My initial square was about 3x3 inches (roughly 7.6cm), and all my subsequent strips are about 3 inches wide.

The best way to join ends of Batkia when starting a new ball is to thread the new strand into a standard tapestry needle and stitch it through the center of the chainette for about 2 inches, like feeding an one eel to another. Once the doubled length has been knit, any flapping ends can be trimmed back without fear of raveling.

Working Method for Modular Log Cabin Square

First square:

Cast on 12 using crocheting on.
Row 1: Slip the first stitch purlwise, knit 10, k1b.
Repeat Row 1 until you form a square of garter stitch. In all probability there will be 12 chain selvage edge loops running up both sides of the square. Cast off 11. One stitch should remain. Do not break yarn.

Strips:

Using the last remaining loop, crochet on 12 stitches.
Row 1: Slip the first stitch purlwise, knit 10, k1b. Draw a loop through the first available chain selvage stitch on the previous square or strip (it will be the edge to the left of the new strip's attachment point). Enlarge this loop until it's big enough to knit with. Turn the work over.
Row 2: Pulling the loop tight and making sure you're knitting with the anchored side rather than the side that runs free back to your ball of yarn, knit 11, k1b. Turn the work over.
Row 3: Slip the first stitch purlwise, knit 10, k1b.
Repeat Rows 2 and 3 until your new strip runs the whole width of your piece. The first time you do this, it will be a square of 12 stitches x 12 garter ridges. The second strip will be a rectangle of 12 stitches x 24 garter ridges and will run across the top of the first two squares.
Next row: Cast off 11. One stitch should remain. Do not break yarn.

Repeat the strip directions, always adding strips counterclockwise around the perimeter of the piece, with each strip running the full length of the available side.

Technorati : knitting

I was wrong and I freely admit it. Remember the post in which I described a method for estimating the depth of stripes that would be produced by a skein of space dyed or multicolor patch yarn? I applied that method to my skein of Noro Kureyon Sock, and it flat out missed the mark.

Based on skein size and color strand counting, I estimated that each solid color stripe would last 4-6 rows or so before shading into the next. I still stand by that for the yarn on the outside of the skein, but I didn't factor into my estimation how seemingly random Noro yarns can be. Here's the skein:

I see lots of turquoise and magenta, with side trips to royal blue and deep green. The color segments of the yarn on the outside of the skein appear to last for the lengths I indicated.

But here's the resulting slouch sock (a sock with a deliberately wide ankle part), knit from the center of the ball out. It's brother is just a tiny turquoise cast-on speck right now:

Huh? where did that huge lump of royal blue above the heel come from? And the green/orange mix directly above that? And why is the pink/purple section so unexpectedly wide? Counting the strands on the inner layer visible on the un-dissected skein, pink/purple should be equal in width to green. What gives?

I might have been less surprised had there been more than one skein of this color number available on the day I bought the yarn. Looking at several, each starting at a different spot in the color progression might have revealed larger (or different) color segments than I anticipated. In any case, the color repeat has gone through about one and a half cycles in this sock, hitting the toe's hue blend about halfway between orange stripe and densest part of the magenta, although factoring in the wider circumference of the ankle part than the foot, the second appearance of the pink/purple is longer than that combo's debut.

So there's my caveat. I still say my estimation method works. Mostly. Except for Noro, where all bets are off.

Pattern footnote:

How to do a slouch sock? Easy. US #00s. Standard figure-8 cast on toe, worked on a set of five DPNs. Increase to 17 stitches per needle until just before the heel (68 st total). Increase one stitch per needle to 18 (72 st total), work a standard short row heel across two needles (36 stitches), instead of decreasing away the two sneaky stitches used to minimize any top-of-heel-decrease gaps, keep them, and increase one stitch each on the two non-heel needles for a total of 19 stitches per needle (76 st total). Work leg part equal in length to foot (folded along the heel's natural equator), then work about 20 rows of K2, P2 ribbing and end off.

Why do a slouch sock? Between the wild colors, thick/thin spin, and overtwist, any lacy or texture pattern would be lost in this stuff. Also this yarn isn't a good candidate for stranding or striping with another (although two different but closely related skeins in a simple stranding pattern might be interesting). I've had some breakage, and I'm not inclined to use this stuff for a nice, snug sock that takes a lot of stretching to put on. The roomy top will diminish that strain.

Technorati : knitting

I got a private note yesterday from a knitter who seeing the fuzzy entrelac blanket posted yesterday, wanted to know how I knew the spotty yarn would work well for it. I reply.

Frankly, I wasn't sure what I was going to do with my spotted yarn. But multicolors come in several flavors. While there are no hard and fast rules in knitting, there are some general principles I use to help figure out what to do with multicolors, especially because I'm one of the yarn-first folk. I rarely have a specific project in mind when I purchase yarn, and usually have to find or invent something to do with my new treasures. Also, as long time readers here have seen - I don't always hit on the best use right away. Sometimes it takes me a couple of starts before things work out. I don't mind ripping back. To me it's part of the process of exploration and discovery. Now these thoughts are things that work for me. Your taste is probably different from mine, and there's nothing wrong with that, so please don't think these are put forward as rules for everyone.

For me, first comes yarn choice. Multicolors come in all sorts of types and color combos. I have to like the color set and mix proportions as a whole. I like to look at my target yarn from a distance - 10 feet at least, to see if the skeins "read" well as an aggregate. Lots of times one or more of the colors pops out strangely from a more harmonious background. I tend to avoid those mixes. I do however like multicolors that are composed of different colors but similar intensities.

Once a color combo has caught my eye, I look at the length of the repeat. On skeined yarn, this is relatively easy, especially if the yarn shop allows customers to untwist a skein. Never do this unless you have asked permission and you know you can return the yarn to the original twist, neat enough to be indistinguishable from the on-shelf stock. Then do so once you've made your evaluation. Or ask the yarn shop staff if they can untwist/retwist for you.

On DK and worsted gauge, I figure about 1.5 stitches per linear inch of yarn. On sport and fingering, figure 2.5-3.5 stitches per inch of yarn. A run of a single color as wide as my palm on a DK is probably a bit over 5 stitches when knit up - just under an inch worth of knitting in DK gauge. Shorter areas of color end up looking like little spots. Longer ones produce broken stripes. Really long segments produce larger stripes (depending on the circumference of the piece being knit and the gauge).

What to do if the yarn comes in a ball rather than a skein? You've got to guess and estimate. Look at the put-up. Estimate about how long one circumference wrap of the ball is. For example, if you look at the Noro Kureyon Sock below you can see that the wrap goes diagonally around the ball, and that there are about four or five wraps before the color changes.

The ball is approximately 7 inches long (the spread from my index tip to small finger tip with my hand splayed - it's good to know some standard biometrics of your own hand for guesstimation), so a rough estimate is that one wrap around the ball would be about 15-16 inches. The individual color patches on this yarn are probably on the order of 65-75 inches long, probably something like 24-30 linear inches of knitting at an approximate sock gauge. (My socks are about 11.5 inches in circumference on the ankle, so for socks one color segment would probably make a stripe a bit over two or three rows deep).

A yarn with lots of rapid color changes will read very differently from a yarn that's mostly background color with scattered spots. The rapid color change yarn will, from a distance, almost seem to do an impressionist's blend, and appear as a hue median to all the colors being represented. That means that a yarn with a zillion little spots of color, each individually quite clear will end up looking like a muted blend of all of them from a distance. Tweeds and multi-strand ragg style yarns (two or more plies of different, sometimes variegated color twisted together) are good examples of this effect. My Impossible Socks uses a ragg-twist multicolor tweed in combo with solid blue. The overall effect of the tweedy yarn is much darker and muddier than its constituent bits, even without the navy stripes.

Colors that blend one to the next can also present problems. Sometimes the nondescript areas between vivid colors predominate if evaluated as a general proportion of total skein length. A lovely multicolor on the shelf may actually knit up rather muddy, with only small flashes of the marquee hues. Conversely, colors that shift abruptly from one to the next can produce a rather motley and jarring effect, with each jostling against its neighbors. In longer repeats, I tend to favor yarns that have few or no blended transitions. I also prefer that any transition areas make up less than 10% of the total color cycle.

Because of the "tweens" challenge with shading multicolors and the perceived meld problem in general, I tend to stay away from yarns with wildly disparate color combos, and stick mostly to multicolors with either a well established and pleasing uniting background color; to yarns that present either multiple variants of the same color (like a continuum from light blue to navy); or to yarns that offer up two or at the most three closely allied colors (like red to yellow, with side trips to orange). The Paisley shawl illustrates this visual mind meld. It's a raspberry to blueberry blend. The detail shows the color spots clearly, but the big picture blends both into a medium purply garnet.

In terms of color repeat length, I try to match projects to the repeat length. I've found in general that unless I can engineer repeats to deliberately and predictably flash, I am not wildly fond of large areas of multicolor yarns knit flat. They're just not very interesting to me worked that way. I much prefer trying to introduce movement or to break up the large-field effect. Entrelac works nicely. The color repeats in the strip below (from my Chest of Knitting Horrors ™ graveyard of unfinished projects) uses Entrelac to make the most of a short color repeat. Each square is only about an inch across.

If the repeat is long, you can engineer something fun like my Snake scarf, displaying the long repeat's gradations to maximum advantage, or working center-out medallions that radiate from one color to another (the brown throw is all knit from the same color number Blauband sock yarn).

If the color bits are extremely short, the diagonal movement introduced by the Entrelac patches combined with the narrow "bounce area" of the patch width evens out the distribution of the spots, and makes them look like ice cream sprinkles (jimmies to my fellow Bostonians).

Sometimes I've broken the rules and used directional-distortion texture patterns with self stripers to break up the march of concentric rings of color by zigging the texture this way and that. My SeeSaw socks, published in KnitNet ages ago are a good example. These are in fact my original SeeSaws, still in service after all these years:

If I can engineer it, I really like making yarns flash - knitting them in the round so that patches of the same color align on top of each other to create an almost painterly effect. The wildly jarring colors of my Rainbow Mills Matisse sweater would not have worked well together if the piece hadn't been designed to flash. Look at the cuffs and waist ribbing to see how muddy and non-descript the blend is without color stacking. You can also see the difference in the flash pattern produced by the difference in body and sleeve circumference.

An alternative approach is to limit the width of the strip so that colors bounce back and forth across a narrower strip of ground. That can make the individual stripes deeper, and add interest by adding the "collision lines" where the repeats abut. The piece below was interesting because it was made from four skeins of hand-dyed from the same batch. They were close, but different enough to each present its own periodicity of repeat when knit into strips of equal width.

Sometimes I'm faced with multicolors that just can't be tamed by stitch direction, calculating garment widths to make them flash, or working them in narrow strips. My favorite solution for those yarns is to find another yarn that coordinates - either by picking up a color from the repeat itself, or by adding another color in contrast. Then I work my solid along with the variegated in stripes or other patterning, in a proportion that tames the wild mix, in effect forcing an new uniting background color into the repeat. In the sock top below, the solid is the magenta. The variegated was turquoise, yellow and hunter green. An unlikely and loud combo, but one that worked.

So to sum up, there's a use for almost every multicolor yarn. Things that make using multicolors easier include harmonious, balanced color sets (even if they're bright), and a minimum of muddy areas. Introducing movement by stitch direction or by narrowing the strip being knit can be more interesting than the same yarn knit totally flat in stockinette. It IS possible to use texture patterns with multicolors, and even the most savage multicolor can usually be tamed by introducing a background or contrasting solid.

Hope someone finds this useful, so that a skein that's been languishing in stash somewhere finally meets inspiration.

Technorati : knitting

For some reason the automatic spell checker kicked in and (without my approval) obfuscated my meaning a bit. I repost, with corrections. Apologies for the confusion.

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I did do a small amount of gift knitting this holiday season - mostly large-gauge hiking or slipper socks, knit from DK or worsted weight yarn, respectively. I give all my socks with a must-fit guarantee. If they're not optimal, I usually make another pair or fix the sub-standard offering.

I had to honor that warranty this year for one pair in particular. The recipient was thrilled, but my foot size estimate was off. I based my estimate on a pair of shoes which turned out to belong to someone other than the target. Since the only defect was foot length, and the yarn is nice and big (and I have a small amount of additional yarn but not enough to do a whole new pair), I decided to lengthen rather than make another pair. Plus a tutorial on doing so might be of use to my one reader out there in blogland. :)

The re-toeing process works in fundamentally the same way, regardless of whether the original sock was knit toe-up or cuff-down. I use this opportunity to present a quick how-to for those looking to add length or replace worn areas on the toe or ball of the foot.

Here's my original pair, knit from the Jaeger Matchmaker DK leftovers from my dropped leaf sweater:

The measurement from the tip of the toe to the back of the heel is about 9 inches. The recipient has requested about an additional half inch of length.

Step one is to unravel the toe area. It's always easier to unravel any area that contains increases, decreases or cable crossings from the top. Knitting can be unraveled from the bottom, but anything other than plain stockinette or garter stitch can be problematic. Because these socks were knit toe-up, I need to start unraveling above the increases that form the toe. If these were cuff-down socks, I'd begin unraveling at my grafted or bound-off seam. In both cases, the process is the same. Identify the stitches that in the toe form the decrease line (in flat feature toes), then boldly snip and get on with it. Here I've put a safety pin between the side stitches a few rows up into the sock foot from my snipping point, and am about to cut. Note that the only one stitch needs to be snipped to start the process:

Having cut, I'm now placing the newly freed stitches of the sock foot on my needles as they are liberated. If I wanted to re-employ the knit part that I'm excising here, I would use two sets of needles, picking up the stitches on both sides of the unraveled row. (I might do this if I were lengthening a sleeve or sweater body above the ribbing, if I intended on grafting the ribbing back on rather than totally re-knitting it). In this case, I'll just rip out the toe and stash the remaining mini-balls in my Box of Future Stripes(tm) - there being few yarn scraps in this world that I find too short to save. The less frugal than I would probably give them the fling.

Why not use the raveled yarn to re-knit the toes? Because I already know that the bit ripped back is too short. Socks benefit from there being as few joins as possible, especially in the sensitive toe and heel areas. If I were to use the ripped back yarn I'm guaranteed to run out, and will need to add on more. That means that instead of three ends to darn in on each reworked toe (the original sock body end, plus the two ends of the re-knit area), I'd have five (original, re-knit section, extra yarn added to eke out raveled bits). More ends = less comfort for the wearer.

While I'm picking up, I don't pay any attention to how many stitches end up on each needle. Because I've marked the exact center of the side, I can assort the stitches appropriately among the needles once they've been rescued. Here you see the result. All stitches reclaimed and on the needles:

Once the stitches are on the needles, it's a simple matter to knit extra length and work a standard toe, ending with Kitchener grafting. As you can see in the after picture below taken after the toe was re-knit, there is no line of demarcation between the body of the foot (knit toe-up) and the new toe (knit in the other direction). My cuff-down grafted toes do turn out to be a bit pointier than my no-sew figure-8 cast-on toes. In any case, here's After Sock and Before Sock. Measured against each other, I've added a bit over a half an inch to the sock's heel to toe length. All I have to do now is fix the other one.

Ripping back and picking up after a garment is finished is a handy technique to have in one's bag of knitting tricks, and one that many people overlook. I've used it to replace worn sock feet, re-knit mitten ends and glove fingers that sprouted holes, lengthen the cuffs and body of sweaters for rapidly growing children, and replace worn elbows or ripped cuffs. So finished doesn't always mean permanently done. Think of it more as "in a resting state that's presently useful" than as absolute finality.

Hope you found this useful!

Technorati : knitting

Apparently my last post caused some confusion. A couple of people wrote to say that they didn't understand why the original graph wasn't knit-able. I'll try to explain again.

One principle of lacy and other texture knitting is the equivalence of decreases and increases. In patterns with parallel edges, for every new stitch introduced into a row via a YO, Make 1 or cast on, there is an equivalent stitch removed by a complementing decrease. That decrease can come in many forms - a K2tog, a SSK, a cast-off, or as part of a multiple stitch decrease (Sl-K2tog-PSSO, K3tog, SSSSK, etc.) Yes, there are some exceptions - patterns that deviate by having a decreased stitch count on one or more rows, but if they have parallel edges, they must restore the stitch count on subsequent rows. I've graphed both types here before.

Walker's Porcupine Stitch uses increases and decreases balanced throughout to maintain parallel edges

By contrast, her Starlight Lace Stitch is a parallel edge insertion that has a modified stitch count on rows 16 and 14, that is restored in both places on the next right-side pattern row. The presence of those evil gray "no stitch" boxes is a dead give-away that stitch count monkeying has happened.

To create a panel with one or more decorative edges - edges that zig in and out to make nifty curves, scallops, or sawtooth or triangle points - the stitch count has to be deliberately altered so that the width of the piece grows and then shrinks in a predictable manner. Most of these decorative panels are edgings - strips with one nice firm straight edge that is usually knit or sewn onto the thing being trimmed, and one fantastical dagged edge - the decorative points or ruffles that hang free. There are two-edged edgings that in the past were used as trim or decorative strips all by themselves - lingerie straps, camouflage for shelf edges, free strips appliqued onto towels and house linen, but they're far less common and are rarely seen in modern pattern collections.

The stitches introduced (or decreased) to form the points can occur anywhere in a row. Placement as well as the number helps determine the overall shape and depth of the point. If the new stitches accumulate or disappear from the left of the location of increase/decrease, the points tend to be a bit sharper. If they accumulate between the stable edge and the location of the increase/decrease the points formed are more like waves or scallops. We saw that in the pattern I charted in the last post, where the point-forming increases/decreases were relatively close to the stable right edge of the piece, stitches were accumulated between the stable right edge and the location of increase decrease, and that spot was followed by a relatively large section that had a stable stitch count. Here are simple graphs of a few basic edging shapes, stripped of all lace detail. Note that in each and every one, if a row has more (or fewer) stitches than the one that preceded it, there is a clearly discernible cause on that preceding row - an increase or a decrease that's clearly to blame.

It's the absence of any stitch-to-blame in the historical chart that made it un-knitable:

Yes, the graph looks good. The points march in and out in clearly defined order - but the causes for that patterning are absent. Every YO on this graph is countered by a decrease. There are none left over to form the basic triangle point shape.

Now as to why the chart was published this way - the pattern book I was working from is a direct facsimile of a work produced in Germany in 1921, in a language I can't read. I did double check the instructions, both against the English key thoughtfully provided by the book's modern editors; and against the original diagrams presented at the front of the book. Those show standard symbols and a little engraving of what the resulting work should look like. I also successfully reproduced another pattern on the page that uses the same symbols, so I'm pretty sure that in spite of not being able to read the accompanying text I didn't miss anything substantive.

My guess is that because charting was new, and the symbols used in the original book are not standard (charting symbols aren't standard even today), among the pattern designers, the artist that laid out the pattern, the typesetter, and the proofer, errors slipped in. Proofing knitting patterns isn't an easy thing, as any modern professional pattern writer/editor can tell you. In my experience, the most accurate patterns appear to have been produced between 1950 and arbitrarily - 1985. Stuff before in general isn't as stitch for stitch perfect or isn't in modern notation; and stuff after seems to have suffered from a lack of skilled manpower and/or editorial time. Not to say everything published after 1985 is junk, but we've all seen books rushed to market that required dozens of pages of errata. Books published during the designated "sweet spot of knitting" era tended to require far fewer corrections than do many contemporary works. Kudos to those professional authors/editors/publishers who have taken on the extra time and expense in pursuit of perfection. Eyebrows are raised at those who cut corners. Slack is cut for pre-modern works, especially those that pioneered new forms of instruction.

So the moral of the story in knitting as in far more weighty world matters, is "trust, but verify."

Afterword: People new to charting might find the Charting 101-107 series here on String useful. You can find those posts under my Reference Shelf tag.

Technorati : knitting

More on corners. Using the same principles as the knit-from-center-out framing area on my cashmere shawl, I've done a mitered corner on my baby blanket. I do envision a problem now that I've finished a credible Corner #1, but I'll deal with it when I get there.

The first step was to make sure that I had a multiple of my halved row count available as live stitches along each edge of the project (small alerts should be going off in your head right now, but back to this later). That's because using my chosen attachment method, two rows of edging are attached to each live stitch.

Edging right side row: S1, work pattern to end
Edging wrong side row: Work pattern to penultimate stitch, SSK last stitch together with a live stitch of the body.

I can modify this scheme by doing an occasional SSSK on that wrong side row, in which one edging stitch is knit together with two live stitches from the body. This can be periodic and eat a specific number of stitches over a given number of repeats (eating one on every Edging Row 1, or every third row of the edging, for example); or it can be ad-hoc - performed when the thing looks like it's getting too ruffly. Being a precise person, I prefer the former, but I'm not above sneaking one in using the latter should it be necessary. You've probably already figured out that working an edging onto a top or bottom of live knit stitches (or stitches rescued after unzipping a provisional cast on) will require a different rate of attachment than would knitting them onto stitches picked up off a side edge formed when the body was knit, via a standard slip stitch edge.

The second step was to identify a clear diagonal on the existing pattern, and use that as an alignment point on which to build my mitered corner. In this case, the edge of the eyelet diamonds makes a good divider.

So having stated the obvious, I violate it all. To create the live stitches all the way around my perimeter, I picked up, putting all the new stitches on a large circ. I started at the end of a knit-side row of stockinette, placed a marker and picked up a stitch in every slip stitch selvage on my left side edge. Then - not having done a provisional cast-on because I was on vacation and was lazy - I placed a marker and picked up the same number of stitches as I had stockinette stitches across the bottom of my half-hitch cast-on row. Then it was a march back to the origin point, placing a marker then picking up stitches along the remaining selvage.

It so happened that my picked up stitch count on each side is pretty close to a multiple of my edging row count-halved. So I started knitting my edging a couple of stitches in from my corner, commencing with good old Edging Row #1. (Hearing that ding-ding alert again? You should be.)

All is well and good (sort of). I've now marched around three of my four corners, and am in the home stretch, working my last straight side. Then it's on to the final corner and graft.

Now. Why all those alerts?

Because my corner as graphed works best when I commence it on the tallest row of my point - not on Row #1, which is the shortest row. I didn't figure that out until I was well along. Not wanting to rip it all back a THIRD time, I'm going to see if I can somehow cheat on Corner #4.

Here's a graph for my modified edging and corner, with attachment instructions (done to the best of my ability).

Technorati : knitting

Where have I been? Well, first there was another spate of chaos deadlines at work. Then it was the beginning of Birthday Week here in the String household (they're 7 years and four days apart, with mine shortly thereafter). And to no one's surprise, I came down with a nasty flu. I'm not yet over that, but it was severe enough for me to stay home from work - something I've done only once or twice in the last decade.

For her birthday Smaller Daughter specified a volcano cake with a dragon on it. She'd seen something like this in a kiddie cookbook - a bundt with a lava-like frosting poured on, surmounted by some clever marzipan decorations. So we made it a group project. I provided the almond bundt with chocolate fudge filling and frosting; Older Daughter molded the marzipan dragon with dried apricot wings; and Smaller Daughter made the strange red prey creatures fleeing from the dragon:

We were hard pressed to find enough room for the obligatory birthday candles. The cake and decorations however were delicious.

I did manage to make some progress on the lace scarf over the last week. I've finished the center section, and am working on the edging. It looks like I'll have to nip into my third skein of Prescott, so I'm thinking of pausing on the edging to go back and add some length to the center section before lapping all the way around that last end. I'm not doing anything fancy here - no mitered corners. I'm just working an extra repeat of the pattern into the cornermost stitch, and hoping that all blocks out evenly later.

I played with quite a few edging patterns for this piece, finally settling on the "Doris Edging" from Miller's Heirloom Lace. It has framed diamonds that exactly complement the center strip. Along the way I noodled up another simple triangle-based edging. This is an out-take, and didn't end up on the scarf. I won't violate copyright by sharing Miller's edging (which I used more or less verbatim), but I will share this one:

Knitting an edging onto a piece isn't difficult. It helps if your base item was worked with a slip stitch selvage edge, but that's not mandatory. I've knit edgings onto all sorts of things, including finished fulled/felted items, fabric, and leather (some caveats on this, below). The slip stitch selvage just makes it easier. Your chosen trim will have one edge intended to hang free. Most often that will be dagged, serrated, scalloped or otherwise fancified. It will also have one (more or less) straight edge. This straight edge is intended to be sewn or knit onto something else. I like to work in the orientation shown in the knit sample and pattern, above - with my straight edge on the right, and the fancy edge on the left. My right-side rows commence from my main piece outward, and my wrong-side rows return from the fancy edge back to the main piece.

Sometimes I use a provisional cast-on and start my lace rows immediately after it. Other times I use a half hitch cast on, then work one row back in knits before starting my lace patterns. There's no real rhyme or reason here. It's just what I felt like doing at the time. In this case, I cast on using half-hitch, and worked a row of knits back, working my first join on that "back from cast-on" non-repeated row. The join itself is quite simple. When I get to the last stitch of my wrong side row, I pick up one stitch in the edge of my established body piece. Then, for the first stitch of my right-side lace row, I either knit or purl that newly created stitch along with the next stitch after it on my needle.

If I knit those two together I end up with a neat column of stitches that makes a visual line between the lace edge and the main body. While this can be desirable in some cases, it does present a different appearance on the front and reverse of the work. Because the lace center of this piece is garter, and the edging is also presented in garter, I used a P2tog to make the join. The front and back of the work look less different from each other if I purl the join instead of knit it. Once the join is made, I work out the remainder of my right-side lacy row, and the return row. So long as I remember to pick up one stitch at the end of every wrong-side/return row, then work that stitch together with the next one as I begin the right side row, my edging will be firmly united with my main body.

Sometimes you don't want to do a row-for-row join. Occasionally the stretch of the lace edging or the ratio of the edging rows to body rows isn't 1:1. This might happen if you are working the edging on smaller needles; or if you are working the edging across a row of live stitches (or across the top or bottom cast-on or bound-off edge) rather than along the "long side" of the work, parallel to the main body's knitting. In that case you may need to either work additional non-attached lace rows every so often, or pick up at the end of the wrong-side/return rows by knitting two body stitches together, again every so often. The former adds more length to the lace, the latter subtracts width from the body. Which method is used depends on the stretch of the body.

The biggest caveat in attaching knitting by knitting on rather than by seaming is that if you do so, the lace is no longer "portable." Let's say in a fit of Suzy Homemaker frenzy, you edged out a set of exquisite hand towels. It's now some years later, and your children have stained those towels beyond recognition, but the edging still looked good. If you had knit the edging separately and seamed it on it would be very easy to remove and re-apply to new towels. But even if you had run a band of slip stitch crochet down the edge of the towel to provide an easy edge for attachment first, if you had knit that edging onto the towel, removing the fancy lace from the towel will be ...problematic.

As far as knitting onto fabric, fulled material or leather - it CAN be done. If the edge can be pierced by a needle tip (or was conveniently punched beforehand), you can knit right onto the edge of anything. BUT the warning about not being able to take the lace off again or adjust it later is strongly in effect. If you want to attach a lace edging to any of these substrates, it's worth it to work one row of slip stitch or single crochet along the item first, then knit (or seam) your knitted edging onto that crocheted foundation row. The foundation row of crochet gives you a stable, evenly placed line of stitches for the joins, and stabilizes the base item's edge somewhat. It also (in the case of leather) makes working into previously punched holes easier (a crochet hook is much easier to thread through and grab a strand than is a knitting needle's tip). Plus, if you think the item being trimmed might shrink, consider seaming rather than knitting on so you can make adjustments later.

So. If you plan on using a lace edging again on another item, or you think your base item might shrink - take the time to seam (collars, cuffs, bed or bath linens). If the edging will remain on that piece, living and dying with the item that bears it - consider knitting on instead (knit counterpanes, scarves). To illustrate this post I wish I still had the denim jacket I trimmed out in knitted lace, or the baseball jacket that used strips of recycled fur interposed with white Aran style heavy cables...

In any case, back to sniffling and a nice lie-down.

Technorati : knitting

Apparently my post on knitting patterns from books published prior to 1920 or so has struck a chord. I've gotten a couple of requests on how to go about translating these older knitting patterns to modern notation. I did a six part section on how to graph up patterns from written notation before (Charting 101, 102, 103, 104, 105 and 106 ), so this sort of follows as optional post-lesson workshop.

This time I'll start with a web-available pattern. K. Harris at Vintage Connection has posted a transcription of a knitted insertion pattern that first appeared in The Delineator magazine, in June 1896. I'll be producing a modern notation graph for that lace panel. Before we begin, it's worth noting some common features of turn-of-the-century knitting. Not every technique known today was widely used, and terms varied a bit - even more widely than they do now. I'll try to cover some of the most common notations.

Knit and purl - k, p

Not much difference. Basic knits and purls were pretty much as we know them. There were however a couple of associated usages that are less common today. Knit plain usually meant work in knit stitch only. One complication - it follows then that for things knit in the round knit plain came to mean "work in stockinette." Occasionally by extension knit plain was used to indicate stockinette done in the flat rather than in the round, even though intervening rows of purl by necessity exist. I've also seen it used very infrequently to mean "continue working in established pattern," but that's rare. More often the term work even was used in that context.

Another alternate usage - purls were sometimes referred to by the term seam, as in the instruction "knit two, seam two" to produce k2 p2 rib. This is probably a hold-over from early sock making, in which a column of purls on the back of the leg was used in imitation of a seam line.

Narrow - n, k. 2t, t,

The modern equivalent of narrow is K2tog - the standard right leaning decrease. Sometimes this is written up as K2, with the "tog" part of K2tog being left out entirely. Older patterns did not use SSK. Occasionally they call out a SSK equivalent of "slip one, knit one, pass slip stitch over" (see below) but most often they don't bother with a left leaning decrease, and use K2tog, even when the cognate would be visually more balanced or appealing. Close inspection of accompanying illustrations reveals that the knitters did employ K2tog for almost all decreases. Less frequently this decrease is referred to as together (t) or knit 2 together (k. 2t.).

One unusual notation on narrow - a couple of patterns I've seen use n followed by the note "by slipping the needle through the back of the stitches." This does sound a bit like a proto-SSK. But unless otherwise modified or explained, it's pretty safe to assume that any n means k2tog.

Slip - s

Another movement that's pretty standard. Unless otherwise modified, slip in historical context means slip purlwise - transferring the stitch from the left to the right hand needle without changing its orientation.

Slip and bind off - sb, sbo, sl&b,

Another historical way of referring to the left leaning decrease or SSK equivalent, this refers to the s1-k1-psso unit.

Over - o, th, w, tho, th. o,

Yarn overs or eyelet producing increases - still a source of multiple terms today - have even more names if you go back through time. I've seen YO referred to as over (o), throw (th), throw over needle (tho or thn) eyelet (e), widen (w), make (m), put over (po), yarn on needle aka yarn over needle (yon), wool round needle (wo, wrn, won).

Special note on double YOs. Most of the time modern patterns use a multiple-unit YO if a really big eyelet is needed. But in historical patterns when YOs were used to make columns of fagot-stitch lace, it was common for the YO that formed them to be specified as a double yarn over, probably because of the yarn manipulation used to create them needed to allow for a subsequent p2tog. If a pattern with fagoting calls for a double yarn over but the stitch count on the subsequent row doesn't account for the additional new stitch (or doesn't mention dropping it), it's a good indication that a modern redaction will call for only one YO and not two.

Make - m

This can be problematic. It's on the previous list as a euphemism for YO, but it is also used in historical patterns for invisible increases - where an additional stitch is added without creating the eyelet hole formed by a YO. Modern "make" is usually interpreted as a raised bar increase, although other forms of adding a stitch like knitting into a stitch on the row below are also sometimes used. A bit of close examination of any illustrations or even experimentation may be called for here. The term made stitch is also sometimes used to indicate the new stitch formed by a YO in a previous row - especially when more than one YO created multiple adjacent loops on the needle.

Purl two together - p. 2 t., p2to, pto

Purl two together was a very common instruction, especially when columns of fagoting style lacy knitting were used.

Crossed knit - c, t, b, tw

Crossed knits are modern twisted knit stitches, produced by knitting into the back of a stitch (ktbl). I haven't seen a historical pattern that includes a purl through the back of the loop (ptbl), but that doesn't mean that one doesn't exist.

Now with all this set out, I can graph up the diamond insertion from the Delineator. It starts out with a cast-on of 23 stitches. It includes double YOs, but all double YOs are followed by p2tog units, producing the columns of fagoting in either side of the center design. I'll show the progression from as-described rows through modern notation.

First, as written, preserving the double YOs; without flipping the wrong-side rows in accordance with the modern charting convention of showing the work as it appears on the front (public) side; and without centering the rows or norming the chart to have parallel edges we get this: (click on images below for larger versions):

We quickly see that stitch counts vary from row to row, although the pattern is more or less internally proofed because wrong side rows do contain the same number of stitches as the right side rows that preceded them. We also see that the double YO followed by P2tog problem is here. Were those YOs to each be "real" each following wrong side row would need to be two stitches longer, and the lacy effect would not be achieved.

Other features of this pattern are pretty straightforward. YOs are YOs, whether they appear on the front or reverse side rows. The K3tog unit only shows up on front (even) side rows. P2tog when seen from the back is a plain old k2tog, so that's also easy to flip.

So. Norming the presentation so that wrong-side rows are shown using the correct right-side row equivalent symbol, and isolating the side columns of fagot stitch, and consolidating the YOs we get:

I've gone through all of this not only for the fun of sharing, but also because I am using this particular pattern to knit up a new quick lace scarf. I'll edge the thing out with something complementary, but for now, here's how it looks:

Knit somewhat overscale in Swift River Prescott on US #8s, one panel of this lacy pattern is perfect for a scarf - curl-free and totally reversible!

Technorati : knitting

Self stripers, multi-ply color twist yarns, and hand-dyed yarns are lots of fun. There's a ton of color there to enjoy. But sometimes a vast and unbroken expanse of color play can be boring or can produce some oddly pooled or cluttered results that look nowhere as nice as the yarn did in the skein. That's why I like to fool around with multicolor yarns, trying to find a way that they play best, or are shown to better advantage. Sometimes it's not easy (regular readers here know of at least two of my multicolor yarn experiments have landed in the limbo of my Chest of Knitting Horrors^tm over the past couple years. But sometimes it is easy.

I finished up a pair of socks as a "chaser" after the vest was done. I used a stash-aged 50g ball of Stahl Wolle Socka Color, in a multistrand twist of maroon, pine, blue, and marigold - #9140, plus another well-aged 50g ball of Patons Kroy Socks in hunter green - #409. While the colors aren't exact matches, they are close enough to complement each other. Both of these were found in last-ball sales, but several years and many miles apart. Since I need around 80-90g of most fingering weight sock yarns to make a pair, between the two bargain basement balls I had enough to finish and still have leftovers - provided I used more or less equal amounts of each.

My solution was to work heels, toes, and ribbing, plus about a little under a third of the sock's body in my solid green, plus the remainder in the multicolor. I used very simple seven-row striping repeat, working five rows of multi, and then two rows of solid green (2/7 = about 28% of my sock's body). I like how the multi is visually broken by the bands of solid green. The end result has at once more contrast and more subtlety than working the whole sock from multi alone, even if I still did contrasting color toes, heels and ribbing.

Of course the other advantage of working simple stripes on socks is to idiot-proof achieving two socks of identical size. It's very easy to count five row units and two row units. When I had completed ten muticolored stripes, it was time to start the heel, which is much easier than having to count every row or trust in doing a measured or eyeballed estimation of foot length.

So. If you find yourself with odd lots of sock yarn, don't despair. 100g of fingering weight sock yarn knitting is ample for most socks up to around men's US shoe size 10.5 or so (slightly smaller if yarn-eating textures are used). You can either work color block style, using up one leftover and then another, or you can stripe. But how wide to make the stripes?

Heels, toes, and ribbing in my standard short-rowed heel sock consume about 25g (a conservative estimate). I have large and wide feet for a fem, so if you are knitting for yourself chances are that you use roughly what I do or less. Weigh it out and set it aside. Then weigh the rest of your leftovers. If you have (for example) 40g of blue, 20g of yellow and 20g of green, you've got a ratio of 2:1:1. If you worked a stripe repeat conforming to that ratio (let's say two rows of blue, two rows of yellow, two rows of blue, two rows of green), you should have enough of each color to complete the pair.

Obviously, I had enough and did complete my pair. And I did have leftovers. As expected, I had a bit more of the multi left than I did the green, because my heels, toes, and narrow green stripes added up to about 60% of total yarn consumption.

Technorati : knitting

Rebecca notes that the patterns in the on-line repros of antique knitting and crochet books that I reported on yesterday call for needles specified by outmoded sizing systems, and asks for help in translating those sizes to modern ones.

I reply that there several sources for info on knitting from these older patterns floating around the Web. Here are a couple.

• The most complete size comparison chart I know about that shows older vs. modern needle sizes is at Lois Baker's Fiber Gypsy website.
  
• I've also got one here at String that speaks to the equivalents between historical and modern needle sizes. I add some common vintage yarns typically used with those needle sizes along with suggestions for equivalent modern yarns (I'll be updating this soon based on the new info from yesterday's books).
  
• The list of ancient yarns with approximate yardages maintained at Vintage Knits is also very useful if you're trying to work from an older pattern specifying an unknown yarn (often without yarn specs.)
  
• The yarn database here at wiseNeedle can be helpful, too. We've got a smattering of reviews for actual vintage yarns have entered by knitters who stumbled across older products in stashes or yard sales (reviews of discontinued yarns are always welcome here!). Other people have posted reviews noting that they have used various modern products as substitutes for now discontinued yarns. You can find the former by looking up the old yarn name like you would any modern one. You can also use the search comments field on our advanced search page to look for mention of an older yarn in any review.
  
  If you've got a yarn review to add, the most efficient way to do it is to first look up the name and see if it's in the collection. If it is - click on the link on the yarn's page to add your comments. Or if the yarn is new to our collection, here's a page where you can add both basic data and your comments at the same time.
  
• The knitting terms glossary also maintained here at wiseNeedle contains historical British and American usages as well as modern ones. You can limit the result to two or more languages by holding down your <CTRL> key and highlighting the desired ones from the drop-down list.
  

Technorati : knitting

Out web-walking again, I've stumbled across a treasure trove of books on spinning, weaving, and other textile arts. It includes historical and recent works on lacemaking, embroidery, tatting, knitting, crochet and some other less practiced crafts, as well as ethnographic material, periodicals, and academic papers. I'm sure I'm the last to find out about it, but I share the reference all the same.

This textile-related archive is maintained by the University of Arizona. Its collections are available on-line, with the individual works so distributed either aged out of copyright, or presented with the authors' permission. There are thousands of items - mostly geared to industry and manufacture, but with a healthy smattering of works detailing hand production. Scans are available as PDFs, with the larger books broken out into smaller segments of under 15MB. Not all are in English.

Among the works I found that are of greatest interest to me in specific are:

Whiting, Olive. Khaki Knitting Book, Allies Special Aid, 1917, 58 pages. PDF

This compendium of knitting patterns presents sweaters, wristlets, socks, scarves, mittens, hats, caps, and baby clothes intended in part for troops overseas during WWI, and for the comfort of refugee families displaced by the war. Patterns for knitting and crochet are both included. The socks shown mostly knit top-down, some have a gradually decreased instead of grafted toe. Some of the socks are worked on two needles and seamed. One pair in particular (marked as a pattern from the American Red Cross, p. 13) seems to include a written description of a grafted toe, but it does not name the technique. Directions are a bit more detailed than is usual for pre 1940 knitting booklets. Fewer than a quarter of the patterns are illustrated with finished item photos. Aside from a list of abbreviations in the front, there are no how-to or technique illustrations.

Nicoll, Maud Churchill. Knitting and Sewing. How to Make Seventy Useful Articles for Men in the Army and Navy, George H. Doran Company, New York, 1918, 209 pages. PDF

This book is a bit more detailed than the previous one. It also contains a rundown of standard troop knitting patterns - hats, mufflers, balaclavas (called helmets), mittens, socks and the like. Every project is illustrated either with a photo or a line drawing of the finished product. Instructions are written out in a fuller format than in the Khaki Knitting Book. It also has some valuable bits of instruction including a list of yarn substitutions, plus two full size color plates showing the wools used, identified by name; a small stitch dictionary section,

Of special note are some unusual mittens (including a mitten with truncated thumbs and index fingers - p.68), half-mittens - p. 77, "doddies" or mittens with an open thumb, p. 80, and double heavy mittens intended for seamen or mine sweepers hauling cables - p. 94). The grafting method of closing up sock toes is clearly described AND illustrated, but it is called "Swiss darning" (p.131). I've heard that term used for duplicate stitch embroidery on knitting, especially when the decorative stitches are sewn in rows mimicking actual knitting, rather than being stitched vertically, but I have never before seen it applied to actual grafting. The entire section on socks and stockings is particularly clear and useful. There are even a couple of crocheted and knit mens' ties in the sewing section.

Finally, the sewing section (about a quarter of the book) might be useful to people doing historical costuming or regimental re-creators who are looking to augment their kit. The one drawback is that most of the sewing patterns are predicated on Butterick printed patterns, and the schematics are not provided in the book. Among the offerings are money belts, a chamois leather body protector and waistcoat, various types of shirts and undergarments, pajamas made from heavy blanket fabric, and a book bag (like a messenger's bag).

Egenolf, Christian. Modelbuch aller art Nehewercks un Strickens, George Gilbers, 1880, 75 pages. Note: Reprint of 1527 book. PDF

Ostaus, Giovanni. La Vera Perfezione del Disegno [True Perfection in Design], 1561, 92 pages. Note: 1909 facsimile. PDF

These are two modelbooks of the 1500s. There are several others in the collection, but they are mostly books of needle lace designs. Ostaus also offers up mostly patterns for the various forms of needle lace, plus some patterns that can be adapted to free-hand (as opposed to counted) embroidery, plus a large section of allegorical plates to inspire stitched medallions, slips, and cabinets. One thing I've always liked are some of his negative/positive patterns. These are designs that if laid out on a strip of thin leather or paper and cut can be separated longitudinally into two identical pieces. There are several of these scattered around the middle of the book.

Starting around page 73 or so there is a section of graphed patterns, a number of which landed in my New Carolingian Modelbook collection.

The Egenolf book also is mostly line drawing suitable for freehand embroidery. Some are pretty cluttered, but some are very graceful. The oak border on p. 32 has always been one of my favorites. There's one plate with a counted pattern, on p. 72.

---. Priscilla Cotton Knitting Book, Priscilla Publishing Co., 51 pages. PDF1, PDF2, PDF3, PDF4, PDF5, PDF6.

This books is obviously a seminal source behind many of today's reference books on knitting technique and patterns. Notation is sparse and "antique" with n (narrow) being used for k2tog, and o for yarn over, and other oddities. There's a fair bit of circular doily knitting, but it is of the knit radially and seamed variety seen also in Abbey's Knitting Lace. In fact many of the doilies appearing in Abbey appear to have been adapted directly from this work. You'll also recognize many Walker treasury edging patterns in these pages.

In addition to the stitch texture and lacy knitting sections, there's a bit on "cameo knitting" which appears to be another name for stranding (in PDF2). The section on filet knitting (in PDF3) is relatively extensive, and clearly shows both the strengths and weaknesses of this rarely described style.

---. Priscilla Irish Crochet Book No. 2, Priscilla Publishing Co., 52 pages. PDF1, PDF2, PDF3, PDF4, PDF5, PDF6, PDF7, PDF8.

This has got to be the single most complete and eye-popping source I've ever seen on Irish crochet. Not only does this contain an amazing amount of eye candy, it also gives directions on how to create it, offering up pattern descriptions for the individual motifs, the joining brides and grounds, and the working method of fastening the motifs to a temporary backing while the grounds are being worked.

---. Egyptisch Vlechtwerk [Sprang], Holkema & Warendorf, 36 pages.PDF1, PDF2

As an example of the depth of the collection, here's a work on Sprang, one of the lesser known fiber manipulation crafts sometimes mistaken for early knitting. It is in Dutch and appears to be from before WWI, but it is illustrated with photos of finished pieces and works in progress.

These are just a small sample of the hundreds of works available at the University's website. Again, most are on the industrial aspects of the textile arts, from fiber acquisition (including sericulture and sheep raising) through spinning, and weaving, but a goodly number are of direct interest to hand-crafters. Topic lists exist for knitting, crochet, embroidery, cross stitch, lace, tatting, and a multitude of other subjects. Support this valuable resource by visiting and using it. I know I'll be combing through here for years...

Technorati : crochet, embroidery, knitting, lace

Techknitting is posting an interesting series on stranding, and as part of it, mentioned the use of Strickfingerhuts (knitting yarn guides/knitting thimbles), linking back to my original post on the subject.

For those who are unfamiliar with them, they are those gizmos that sit on the end of the left hand index finger, that are used by Continental style knitters (pickers) to hold and separate two or more yarns while doing stranded colorwork.

Adding some more detail on the subject, I'd like to address a problem TK points out as being common among those who hold two yarns in one hand while stranding - differential feed.

If a row has more or less equal numbers of stitches of both colors, both yarn strands are consumed at the same rate. But if a row has lots of Color A, but very little Color B, A will be eaten at a much greater rate, eventually causing the knitter to readjust his or her grasp of the yarn to even things out.

Those of us who do use Strickfingerhuts find that the differential feed rate problem is greatly minimized compared to trying to hold both yarns in the left hand unassisted. Yes, eventually the difference in yarn consumption catches up with us and we have to yank the strands even, but no where near as often.

We do however find that over time we prefer to put the dominant color (the color most represented on a row) in either the left or right eyelet to minimize the feed problem. There's no hard and fast rule to this, it's a matter of personal preference.

In stockinette in the round, I prefer to have the dominant color in the right eyelet, and the less represented color in the left. This helps when I lock in my floats:

Although I usually work stranding in the round, occasionally I have to do it in the flat. If I'm knitting stockinette in the flat using a Strickfingerhut, and I'm on the purl side, I prefer to have the dominant color in the left hand eyelet.

For the record, I notice no difference in the appearance of the finished product if I mix eyelets - sometimes putting the dominant color in one, and sometimes in the other. I do however note that some other Strickfingerhut users do, and advocate always keeping the background color in the same eyelet regardless of its relative dominance on any one row. Again, experimentation is your friend.

Technorati : knitting

I've played around some with methods of producing and applying the edge finish to the khaki vest. First I tried the separately knit/sewn on band method, using a couple of different approaches to the seaming (fold band longitudinally, sew the band up, then apply it; sew on both sides in one pass; sew on the display side, then do a separate seam to affix the facing side). Of all of them, the last method worked best, but it was the most effort intensive of them all.

So I looked further. Plain I-Cord (knit on or applied) was too narrow to stabilize the edge, and two courses of it would have been too bulky. I didn't like the way that picking up along the edge then knitting out looked - especially along the curve of the armhole.

Even more experiments ensued. Finally I landed on knitting-on a strip parallel to the edge, then going back and seaming down the free side on the inside of the piece. Doing that I could produce an edge of any desired width, go around curves and even plan on mitering the vest point corner. Here's a swatch with a mitered corner. Note that I haven't sewn down the facing on the inside yet, but natural stockinette curl is keeping it nice and neat. (For some, the inside seaming might be optional, but I plan on doing it on my finished piece).

To miter the corner of this 8-stitch strip, I used short rows. Here's how I did it:

Applied 8-stitch Strip Facing with Mitered Corner

Start with the public side of the work facing you, holding it with the bulk of the piece on the left, so that you're working up the right side of the thing (upside down from the picture above). Using straight needles, cast on 9 stitches, then pick up one stitch in the edge of the piece being finished. While the strip is 9 stitches wide, one is consumed during joining, so the part that protrudes is really only 8 stitches wide.

Row 1 (wrong side): P8, k1.
Row 2: S1, k6, ssk, pick up one stitch in edge of swatch
Row 3: S1, p7, k1

Repeat Rows 2 and 3 until you reach the corner, having just completed an odd number (wrong side row)

Row 4: S1, k6, wrap and turn.
Row 5: Slip the wrapped stitch, p6, wrap and turn
Row 6: Ignoring any previously wrapped stitches, S1, k5, wrap and turn
Row 7: Ignoring any previously wrapped stitches, Slip the wrapped stitch, p4, wrap and turn
Row 8: Ignoring any previously wrapped stitches, S1, k3, wrap and turn
Row 9: Ignoring any previously wrapped stitches, S1, p2, wrap and turn
Row 10: Ignoring any previously wrapped stitches, S1, k2, knit the next stitch along with the loop around its base, turn
Row 11: Ignoring any previously wrapped stitches, S the stitch you just knit, p2, purl the next stitch along with the loop around its base, turn
Row 12: Ignoring any previously wrapped stitches, S1, k3, knit the next stitch along with the loop around its base, turn
Row 13: Ignoring any previously wrapped stitches, Slip the stitch you just knit, p4, purl the next stitch along with the loop around its base, turn
Row 14: Ignoring any previously wrapped stitches, S1, k5, knit the next stitch along with the loop around its base, turn
Row 15: Ignoring any previously wrapped stitches, Slip the stitch you just knit, p6, purl the next stitch along with the loop around its base, turn

The corner is complete, return to repeating Rows 2 and 3. Optional finish - seam down the inside edge of this facing.

I've stated applying this same edging to the armholes of my vest (having previously seamed the shoulders).

I plan to do the bottom edge next, incorporating the mitered corner on the vest points. But I haven't played with the buttonhole band treatments yet. Sadly, I have misplaced my copy of InkKNitters. It's here. Somewhere... Weekend plans include tossing my knitting library to find it.

Oh. Unless a monsoon is upon us, weekend plans also include attending the annual Gore Place Sheepshearing Festival in Waltham, Massachusetts. Not a big festival as fiber fairs go, but very local and lots of fun. Look for me with both Elder and Smaller Daughter in tow.

Technorati : knitting

After yesterday's post on my Galaga Hat, I've gotten a couple of questions about the method for working back and forth seamlessly to make a tube. In specific, some people wanted to see illustrated how I make the wrap and turn join. I try to oblige them (click on pix to see them larger):

I've shown just the knit-side round. The purl side round works in exactly the same way. Work to the marker, making sure to work the last stitch before the marker along with the loop around its base, shift the marker over, wrap the stitch after the marker, flip the piece over, return the marker to the right-hand needle, and continue with the rest of the round.

Why go through all this trouble?

I don't have enough yarn to strand around the entire piece. Nor do my motifs span the entire circumference of my hat. I am in effect working spot Intarsia motifs (actually I'm stranding between them, but limiting that stranding to the spot motifs). Rather than cut the yarn at the end of each motif, or stretch it back to the beginning of the spot design on each row, I am working the equivalent of flat knitting - going back and forth, alternating rows of knit and rows of purl. When I purl or knit back to my spot motif, my contrasting color ends are on the correct side of the motif for the next round. But I hate sewing up, and want to make a hat without seams. Rather than knit this totally flat (a valid option), I'm using wrap and turn to make the join at the end of each round.

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I had started this post back when I was up to the shoulders of my ribbed leaf pullover, but life intervened and it languished. Also, the diagrams ended up taking more time than I thought they would. For the record, I write these entries mostly in the half-hour I steal in the morning after breakfast, while my kids are getting dressed for school. Some of the longer and more illustrated ones can take a couple of days to pull together. Yet another reason why my blogging rate has fallen back since leaving the world of consulting for full-time employment.

For the record, I'm now just a couple of rows away from completing the sleeves of the ribbed leaf pullover. I'll use the piece to do some assembly and finishing posts later this week and next.

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Some deadlines have passed, others remain. I did have an hour or so of knitting time last night, which I used to excellent effect, both for some much needed relaxation, and to advance my leaf pullover. I am now finishing up the front, at the point where the centermost stitches are set aside and the shoulders are completed.

Now this stage of production is one that has inspired a huge number of wiseNeedle advice board questions. The directions to join in a second ball of yarn and knit both shoulders at the same time tend to confuse people who are new to knitting. Here's the basic concept. My postulated directions say something like

Work across 25 in pattern, place center 20 on holder, attach second ball of yarn and work remaining stitches; continue in pattern and commencing on the next wrong-side row, working both sides at the same time, decreasing 3 stitches at each neck edge 2 times, then 1 stitch at neck edge three times. Continue until piece measures 20 inches from bottom and bind off.

Here you see a basic sweater front (or back), knit in green yarn bearing a big R in the center so we can keep track of the right (read public) side. You see all 70 stitches on one needle, ready to commence a right side row.

At this point, I've followed the direction to "Work across 25 in pattern, place center 20 on holder". Note that the stitches on my right hand needle have been completed.

Now I'm beginning the part that confuses many beginners, "attach second ball of yarn and work remaining stitches." It's not difficult. We're going to do the left and right shoulders simultaneously, mirroring all shaping so that they are symmetrical. The stitches on the holder form the bottom of the neck opening. Sometimes the pattern specifies that they be bound off, other times it asks that they be placed on a holder so that they can be used "live" to form the collar. In either case, they are now parked and won't be touched again until the pattern revisits collar production and finishing.

Take another ball of the same yarn and starting with the stitches on the far side of the stitch holder, finish out the row. Leave enough tail at the neck edge for easy finishing later. This next diagram shows the work after I've completed the "work remaining stitches" bit. I've finished my right side row.

The diagram below shows the work flipped over to work back across the wrong side (the non-public side). I've got my two balls of yarn set up, one for each shoulder area, and I've indicated the spots where the decreases should happen.

We're up to continue in pattern, working both sides at the same time, decreasing 3 stitches at each neck edge 2 times." The pattern is now directing the shaping of the neckline. When a pattern calls for decreasing more than one stitch at an edge I usually bind off at the beginning of a row. Yes, that makes a stepwise decrease, but as you'll see I minimize the jaggedness a bit. The only exception to this is if I'm working in a giant superbulky (3 stitches to the inch or fewer). In a yarn that big, the steps can be quite noticeable. But back to 99.99% of all knitting.

To accomplish my first set of bind offs I have to remember to work my rows in pairs beginning on a wrong-side row- two rows each with stitches bound off at the beginning yields symmetrical decreases at the right and left edge of the work. In the diagram above, I am poised to begin my initial shoulder decrease. I have worked back across the first bunch of shoulder stitches, ending at the neck edge. No bind-offs yet. But as I begin the second set of shoulder stitches I bind off the first three, then continue across the row. Then I flip the work over to begin my right-side row, work across the shoulder side I just decreased, and perform a similar decrease on the other shoulder

At the end of my second decrease row (in this case, a public side row) I finally have symmetrical decreases on either side of my neck edge, formed by binding off stitches at the commencement of two successive rows. My bind offs are a bit jagged and step like, but that can be diminished somewhat by slipping rather than working the first stitch bound off prior to ending it off.

I am ready to go on to the next direction in my instructions. It says to decrease "1 stitch at neck edge three times". It doesn't say to do this by binding off. I could do it that way, and many patterns say so. But I don't like the jaggies formed by binding off. If I've got only one stitch to get rid of, I'll use plain old K2tog and SSK decreases. Depending on the pattern, I might work them in the edgemost stitches, or in the next-to-edgemost stitches, allowing them to form some sort of decorative detail. Also unlike the bind-off style decrease, there's no logical reason to separate these between two successive rows. I generally work them on the same row. Most of the time that's a right-side (public side) row, but in my current project - a piece with heavy texture patterning - it's easier to do them on the plain purl worked wrong side, using P2tog and P2tog through the back of the loop so as to produce the same effect on the public side as K2tog and SSK. In any case, I place them on either side of the neck edge, creating the curve that is the foundation for whatever collar treatment is specified by the pattern in hand.

An aside: It's interesting to note that older patterns more commonly suggested completion of one shoulder and then the other rather than knitting them in parallel. Most often those pattens gave directions for the first shoulder, and then said something like "repeat for second shoulder, reversing shaping as necessary." (A direction that caused me to blink in wide-eyed terror while knitting my very first sweater.) There's no reason why patterns written in that style can't be worked in the "at the same time" method. I prefer the two-together method because it's how I idiot-proof my own knitting to ensure that my shoulders end up being exact cognates of each other. But not everyone likes working this way.

Reasons to stick with the older method might include the unavailability of a second ball (if for example you are working off one immense cone of yarn and don't want to break it to create a second ball); or the need to concentrate on one set of shaping directions at a time. So long as the you take care to make sure that row counts are the same and that placement of the decreases is a parallel as possible, working one shoulder at a time is a perfectly legitimate way to go. There's no shame in working the one at a time method, it's just a matter of mental wiring and personal comfort.

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A couple bits from my mailbox today, plus a long-lost toy.

Yards, grams, and ounces

A reader wrote to ask how to convert ounces and grams to yards, because she'd found a pattern and wanted to buy enough yarn to knit it. I answered with this:

You can't convert ounces and grams to yards. Yards measures length. Ounces and grams measure weight. One ounce equals 28.35 grams (give or take). One gram equals roughly 0.35 ounces. There are dozens of conversion calculators on the web that can help you flip between the two if you don't have a calculator or pencil and paper to hand.

Let's say you had 1.75 ounces (roughly 50 grams) of a 100% wool. You could have about 250 yards of fine fingering weight yarn, or around 135 yards of sport weight wool, or around 120 yards of DK weight wool, or around 100 yards of worsted, or about 80 yards of bulky. And that's without factoring in stuff like how lofty or dense the yarn is, whether or not it's made up of multiple strands tightly twisted, or one giant fluffy strand. One five stitch per inch worsted for example might be about 110 yards for 50 grams, but another might be only 90, all depending on the denseness of the strand.

This is further complicated by fiber blends. 1.75 ounces of acrylic at 5 stitches per inch (the textbook definition of worsted) might have significantly higher yardage than 1.75 ounces of 5 stitch per inch wool because the acrylic fiber is in and of itself less massy.

All this being said, there are very loose guidelines of roughly how much yardage a pound of yarn might contain. But remember - use these numbers as a rough guideline only, and only for the fiber type and gauge specified. If you're planning a yarn purchase and are going on only this type of info - buy at least 25% more than you think you need. I can guarantee that three times out of four, you'll end up using more yarn than you originally planned. Here's one set of rough yards per pound figures. Remember - it's for hand-spun 100% wool only.

Why post patterns for free?

Another person wrote to ask why I post patterns for free. She specifically asked if I was doing it to undercut the people who charged, and wondered why I didn't write for magazines or other publishers. I wrote back:

I'm flattered that you think my patterns are good enough for professional publication. I think they're borderline. I don't do lots of multiple sizes, they tend to be pretty sketchy. Some are more like method descriptions than hard and fast patterns with set yarn quantities.

I post patterns because I find the process of working out the problems they present to be fascinating. My patterns are posted more as a by-product of that exploration rather than the cumulative product. I want to share the fun of both inquiry and production.

I have dabbled in writing patterns for a yarn maker and an on-line magazine. I'm a proposal writer by trade. I spend my professional life running the gauntlet of multiple concurrent hard-stop deadlines. Knitting is an area where my only deadline is "whenever." I found out that harnessing the creative process to a fixed delivery framework squeezed all the fun (and much of the creativity) out of it. I can't work under a mandate that inspiration will occur between Thursday next and the 30th of the month, will involve one particular technique and one particular yarn in a color not of my choosing; or that the finished object and full proofed pattern in five sizes will be delivered without delay within 15 days of yarn receipt. Even the web-based magazines brook no delay. So I retreat to my own deadline-free tenth-of-never world, doing whatever the heck I want, when I want to do it.

Why not self-publish and sell the result? Because the burden of handling the business end of the thing (payments, refunds, shipments or downloads, record keeping for taxes) is not commensurate with the pocket change income the effort would bring. I'm re-thinking this in reference to my embroidery book, but to do it for lots of little knitting patterns would be a big pain. Also because patterns people pay for are held to a higher standard than are give-aways. To be competitive, I'd have to knit the trial in a color that photographs well (opposed to the color I want to use), figure out that range of sizes, and use a much higher standard of test knitting than I currently do. While I don't put out junk as a rule, errors are there. I get to them when I can. But I don't want to knit everything twice or more - once to create it and at least once more to test the directions, possibly trying out every size offered.

Long Lost Toy

Well, not lost. It's been sitting in a corner for a while. I made it for Larger Daughter when she was four. Now that Smaller Daughter is out of the hobby horse years, poor Hero isn't seeing much action. But he's one of my favorite projects, out of all the things I have ever made.

I had no pattern, some black and green Melton wool scraps left over from some SCA outfits, stuffing, a stick, two brass rings, plus a bit of trim, glue-on jewels, a couple of and bells left over from making holiday ornaments. I improvised and here's the result.

A stick horse menacing enough for a Nazgul's child. Needless to say Hero will be spending his retirement here, and not getting passed down to anyone else.

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When they only sort-of match. Kind of.

Here are my 1.4 mittens. As you can see, they're very quick. Even faster to do than socks. Now I can see how girls of long ago had the goal of knitting an absurdly large number of mittens to stow away in their hope chests against the needs of their future family. At my almost half a mitten a night rate (in about 1.5 hours of knitting time), I could do a pair a week and still have time left over for other knitting.

Too much fun, especially since I have no hope chest deadline. I think I'll have to do another pair for me. Another chance to graph, and to do so on a larger field (at least 35x69 boxes to the mitten tip, instead of 28x61, perhaps a few more). Now, what to put on mine... Sprites from old computer games? Cute, but hardly original at this point. Words? I would have to find some pithy piece I could endure reading day after day. Some other graphed pattern from my book? Perhaps the bunny I shared here before? Something from my out-take notes - the patterns that weren't documented well enough to make it into the book, or proved out to be from after 1600? Perhaps. Some doodle with no prior precedent? Also not unlikely. One caveat though, I may be delayed in my start on my sequel mittens. I've gotten a begging/pleading/groveling request for another Klein Bottle hat.

Two quick cheats - Got a mitten or other strong left/right directional chart on your computer and want a quick and foolproof way to swap that left/right thumb placement without sitting down and taking the two tedious minutes to transcribe it on the hard copy? Most printer drivers in both the Windows and Macintosh worlds have a "print mirror image" setting buried way down on their Advanced Features page, accessible off the printer set-up or print controls dialog page. Use that to print a new copy of your graph. Instant left/right swap.

Or if your printer driver doesn't have that setting, get a sheet of clear viewgraph transparency plastic that's meant to go through your printer (the stuff that's used on overhead projectors). Print on that. Put the result in a page protector with a sheet of white paper behind it. When time comes to do that second mitten, flip it over. Overhead transparencies are becoming rare in this day of cheap full screen projectors, but many teachers still use them and they're still in the office supply stores.

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June over at Twosheep recently wrote about a tubular cast on. That sent me off looking up various ones. June recommends the one from Montse Stanley's Readers' Digest Knitters' Handbook, although she notes that doing it in stockinette is not as stretchy as doing a ribbed tubular cast-on. She gives links to a couple of nicely photographed instructions at My Fashionable Life, and Little Purl of the Orient. I don't have that particular Stanley book on my shelf, but I use an entirely different tubular cast on than the one described at those sites and in the book.

I learned an at once more fiddly and simpler method for a ribbed tubular cast-on during the second sweater I ever knit - Penny Straker's Eye of the Partridge unisex raglan. Straker's pattern format included a side bar with helpful advice or bonus illustrations of techniques and tricks. This one included instructions for the cast-on I did Partridge as a gift for one of my sisters. I knit it in Germantown worsted (very much like Cascade 220), in an dusty antique rose and a deeper, almost blood rose for the darker complementing color. It's long gone now otherwise I'd put a photo here instead of the sample photo from the pattern, shamelessly lifted from a web-based retailer (the pattern itself is still available, and also comes in a kids' version).

Straker's method calls for using a provisional cast-on, and casting on half of the stitches called for in the pattern. If for example, the pattern asks for 100 stitches, I cast on 50. Then I knit in plain stockinette for four to ten rows (usually 6). At the completion of the last row, I unzip my provisional cast-on, and place all the newly freed stitches along the bottom edge onto a second needle. I often use a needle one size smaller than I used for the stockinette piece to make this easier.

I now have a long, skinny snake of knitting, suspended like a hammock between two active needles. I hold the needles so that the strip is folded in half, with the purl side on the inside. Then I take a third needle and alternately knit one stitch off the needle closer to me:

and purl one stitch from the needle that's further away:

(Pictures courtesy of Younger Daughter, already at 8 as good a photographer as her mother will ever be)

When I'm done, I have a nice, neat, stretchy tubular edge in K1, P1 rib that can be made wide enough to accommodate a drawstring. I use this routinely for almost all of my hem edges - even for circular knitting. I've made the small divot at the join into a design feature on some pieces where I've started my cast-on at the neckline. On others, I've used the dangling tail to snick it up and make the starting point invisible.

In this case, I broke into twisted rib the row immediately following the cast-on row. How's the leaf sweater coming? The front of it is starring in the cast-on photos, above. Here's the back - blurry and hard to see, but proof that I'm done with it. Also proof that yes - a texture pattern that's mostly stockinette will also curl.

For the record, here's a bit of detail in which you can barely make out the texture pattern and the armhole decrease area (click on this for a close-up):

And because I'm still sniffing around for a small project to run in parallel with my leaf sweater, plus I'm having fun with my ancient Unger Britania- I'll take another lead from June. It's mittens next. The shape of a traditional Norwegian mitten looks pretty simple, yet with ample scope for fun. Hello Yarn offers a PDF of a blank mitten graph. I think I'll take that idea and run with it - redrafting the template for a smaller gauge, and using some of the historical graphed charts from my book on embroidery. If nothing else, I'll enjoy the doodle time.

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A couple items from my inbox.

Question on Justin's Counterpane

Cindy wrote to say she was having problems conceptualizing how the pieces to make my Justin's Counterpane pieced blanket fit together. This particular blanket is a large scale intro to white cotton/lacy knitting. Only twelve main units are needed to complete it - six keyhole shaped motifs, and six whole octagons. Ten triangles are used to eke out the sides and make them straight. An optional edging finishes the thing. They're put together like this:

I did not use additional triangles at the corners to make a true rectangle because it's easier to go around a more gentle angle without mitering than it is to go around a 90-degree turn. And I didn't want to go through the bother of mitering my corners.

Because of the relatively few units used and the simplicity of the classic pinwheel motif, I think that people wanting to make a first item in this style might find the pattern useful. Being a blanket, it doesn't have to fit anybody so gauge is a guideline, not a mandate. It can be worked in any cotton or cotton blend yarn you like. The yarn I chose was a very inexpensive DK weight, but by using the appropriate size needles, a piece of usable dimensions could be made in anything from sport to worsted. Much heavier than that though and you'll get into weight issues, cotton being quite a bit massive than its equivalent thickness in acrylic or wool. (You could even work this in standard wool or acrylic, but I think the design will be crisper in cotton.)

In any case, some basic guidelines for knitting and seaming together pieced counterpanes include binding the motifs off especially loosely; blocking the units before assembly, by wetting them down and pinning them out while stretching them to their maximum extent; and using whip stitch or when possible, mattress stitch done in half of the edge most stitch to sew them together. Back stitch or mattress stitch done further into the motifs will make the seams too dense and rigid, and may introduce cupping.

Bargain Hunters' Blocking Boards

Rachel and I had an eMail chat recently. I think it was over on one of the knitting-related boards at Live Journal. She was looking for advice on blocking. In specific, she was looking for low-cost alternatives for blocking. We went through the standards - pinning out on carpet covered with towels or on a padded table or bed, but she wanted a rigid surface that was easy to stow in addition to being inexpensive.

I recommended getting a half-sheet of drywall from the hardware store, taped around the edges to reduce crumble, and topped with a flat sheet through which the pinning happens. I also suggested scouring yard sales or opportunity shops for the squishy/spongy foam pattern/alphabet block floor tiles or play mats favored by the parents of toddlers. They're indestructible and often outlast the toddler years, landing at second-hand venues. Top those with a sheet and pin away, happy that you've found a modular, easy to store solution that as a creative recycle, nibbles away at the waste stream.

Rachel decided to go with the play mat idea. She sent me a note of thanks, and included this shot of her shawl blocking:

(Photo is hers, used with permission). She also notes that she got her mat at WalMart, and it was less than $20. Love the shawl, Rachel, and as ever - I'm delighted to have been useful.

A quickie today.

There have been a few times when I've wanted to work I-cord (or a knit edging) onto the perimeter of something, completely encircling it, and ending up by grafting the final live stitches onto the original cast-on row with the hope of creating as near seamless a join as possible. Here's an example:

To date when I've needed to do this, I've either knit several rows extra of the I-cord "free" prior to beginning to apply it to the edging, or I've used a provisional cast-on with waste yarn for wider knit trims. Working several rows of extra I-cord gives me a snip zone I can cut and then ravel back to produce the cast-on edge live loops I need for grafting. I suppose for narrow trims, I could do a similar thing - knitting several rows of plain garter or stockinette prior to beginning simultaneous application to the thing being trimmed and commencement of my trim pattern. A judicious snip and ravel back will reveal those live loops just as nicely as working sacrificial to-be-cut I-cord does.

But I had a "doh!" moment last night. Why not just cast those few first stitches directly onto a large safety pin or small stitch holder? Unclasp, transfer stitches onto a live needle, and go! To do this, I'd use the simplest of provisional cast-ons, starting out by holding my strand behind my stitch holder and picking one stitch up knitwise, then I'd shunt the yarn to the front of the holder and with my needle tip in back of it, pick up one stitch purlwise, and so on.

Here are seven stitches picked up on a stitch holder:

It looks kind of like the figure-8 cast-on I favor for toe-up socks:

EXCEPT that by picking up the stitches instead of winding the yarn around the needles I've managed to mount every other stitch with the leading leg in back. Not a problem. I'd work one corrective row of purls back before beginning my edging, and on that row, I'd purl into that back leading leg to eliminate any inadvertently twisted stitches. Or I could reverse the direction of the stitch holder and wind the yarn on exactly the same way as I do for my fig-8 cast-on, eliminating the problem entirely.

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I got a note yesterday from someone who commiserated at the slow going doing a piece so full of left twist and right twist 1x1 cables, and who wanted to know if there were other ways to do them.

There are several ways to go about it. Some are documented in B. Walker's stitch treasuries, others elsewhere. The first and most obvious is to do a plain old 1x1 cable, slipping the stitch that needs to go in back onto a cable needle or spare DPN, working the one that needs to land on top, then returning the slipped stitch to the active needle and working it, too. Nice and neat, but time consuming.

Some people have a knack for working these small cable crossings without using a cable needle or other aid to hold any stitches. This works best in a nice, cooperative and slightly sticky wool, but with practice can be employed in most other materials, too. Famous Wendy is especially good at it, and has a nice tutorial on no-needle cables on her website. Although it is employed there for a 3x3 cable, the same principle holds for a simple 1x1 twist. Grumperina also has an illustrated no-cable-needle tutorial. Her method is slightly different and works well, too.

But being a klutz and prone to dropping stitches, I prefer some of the other less adventurous methods. My irrational preference here is sort of like people who prefer to keep their fingers on the keyboard while using a word processing program, disdaining use of the mouse in favor of key command sequences.

Here are a couple of other ways to make 1x1 twists. B. Walker advocates the second method described below for each (the ones I attempted to illustrate). As with most cases in which there are several ways to accomplish the same thing, experimentation is always a good idea. Different methods will give different gauges and depending on the materials used, may have an effect on fabric drape and loft. If you've got a pattern that's heavily dependent on LT and RT, take a moment to play with the various ways to accomplish them when you are swatching. You may find that one of the many ways to produce them works best for your project in hand.

Left Twist (LT) Methods - Rightmost stitch ends up on top

• Identify your two-stitch unit. Skip the first stitch and knit into the back of the second, then knit the skipped stitch through the back of the loop and slide the entire unit off your needle.
• Identify your two-stitch unit. Skip the first stitch and knit into the back of the second, then knit BOTH stitches together through the back of the loop and slide the entire unit off your needle

Knitting into the back of the second stitch

Knitting both together

Completed twist unit

Right Twist Methods - Leftmost stitch ends up on top

• Identify your two-stitch unit. Skip the first stitch and knit into the front of the second, then knit the skipped stitch and slide the entire unit off your needle.
• Identify your two-stitch unit. Knit both stitches together, but do not remove them from the left needle. Knit the first stitch again, and slide the entire unit off your needle.

Knitting both stitches together

Knitting the first stitch again

Both completed twists (placed a couple of rows apart, they make up the C shape in the center of the mini-swatch)

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A person posting on one of the historical knitting lists asked a question yesterday about this 18th century Spanish knitted cap. I've poked around the Victoria and Albert Museum's on line photo collection, but I hadn't taken the time to zoom in and look closely at this particular item.

At first glance the cap appears to be covered with knit-purl texture patterning, but if you zoom in (and especially if you have the ability to get an even closer look at the image) you'll see that the texture isn't formed by knits and purls. Instead, the design is made up of some sort of stranding that floats over a stockinette background. The question was about how this might have been done. Unfortunately, we can't see the back of the work. So I got to thinking...

The most obvious way would be for someone to work up a plain stockinette cap, then hand-stitch the floats over counted stitches, to produce a diapered or pattern darned effect. This would certainly work, but lacks elegance. If I were making a hat like this, I'd much rather do the decoration at the same time as the base knitting, rather than going back later.

This leaves two methods - some sort of in-row wrapping, or slipping stitches with the yarn in front of the work.

Let's look at slipping first. If you knit a row, then holding yarn in front, slip several stitches, and then resume knitting, you make a fabric that has a base row of normal height, then a distended area where stitches were slipped. If you continue to do this on subsequent rows without rows of intervening plain knit, you pull those stretched stitches up even further, creating a vertical column with a grossly distorted base structure. It doesn't look like the knitter of this cap made the floats by slipping with yarn in front because if you zoom in and examine the long vertical bars of the ornamentation, a float seems to happens on every row, and there is no evidence of vertical distortion.

This leaves the wrap method. Wrapping stitches for ornamental effect isn't widely practiced any more although it still survives almost as a curiosity in some cotton knitting. You can see an example of wrapped stitches in the cover pattern on the Lewis Knitting Counterpanes book published by Taunton Press. In this case the wrapping is pulled very tightly to magnify the gathered effect of the pattern. The wraps are peeking out beneath the bellies of the scallops:

I've also seen texture designs in European pattern collections that use wrapped stitches. There are a couple of the tight-wraps-as-gathers type at the end of Omas Strickgeheimnisse, a German-language knitting texture pattern dictionary. I thought there was at least one in the Bauerliches Stricken series (another 3-volume German stitch dictionary), but thumbing through, I can't find it now. Some of the on-line Russian language stitch collections also show wrapped stitches I found these by searching for УЗОРЫ which may mean pattern or stitch in Russian. It also seems to transliterate to the letters "uzori or uzor" in Western alphabets, which are also good starting points for searches. (No I don't speak or read Russian, I've stumbled across this bit of trivia while web-walking.) I don't have time this morning to fish up the citations for these dimly remembered Russian texture patterns. I'll have to leave that for tomorrow.

However, none of the contemporary sources for these wrapped stitches employ them in the way I envision that the Red Cap Knitter did.

I don't think it would be difficult to do this, just a bit fiddly. I like fiddly. Remember that this is a thought experiment. I haven't tried the method out yet. Perhaps over the weekend I'll have time to do so. Here goes.

Let's say you want to lay a ladder across four stitches. You knit the four as usual. Then you take your yarn and move it to the back of the work. You transfer four stitches from your right hand needle back to the left hand needle, then you move the yarn strand to the front of the work, laying it in the "ditch" between the first stitch to be wrapped and the ones that came before it. Then you slip those four stitches back to the right hand needle. You draw the yarn strand across the front of the work over the four, then return it to the back. You have now "lassoed" your four stitches. Give the thing a slight tug to maintain tension, and knit the next stitch as usual.

Now all you need is a suitable graph, and you're set. (Credit: This particular graph has been researched by SCA pal Carol.)

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Yesterday I described two of the more usual methods for attaching edgings to project bodies - plain old mattress stitch seaming, and knitting onto a live stitch or finished edge. Today I continue with a third method. I'm not quite sure what it's called, so I'll call it the drawn loop method for now.

I learned this while doing the Forest Path Shawl (Interweave Knits, Summer 2003). If you plan on finding a copy of IK and working the Path, be aware that it appears to be sold out from the back issue collection on the IK website, and that there's a correction posted in the magazine's errata pages.

Drawn loop is intended for working a knitted trim onto a finished edge, and seems to be the least bulky of the three methods when used for that purpose. Like plain knitting on, the attachment is worked row by row as the knitting proceeds. Many patterns that use plain knitting on include directions to pick up an endless number of stitches prior to working the attached edging so that the trim is applied to live stitches rather than the original finished edge. The drawn loop method avoids that annoying exercise in endless counting although it does work best when done on a slip-stitch selvage. Unlike knitting on, there's no column of double stitch thickness decreases formed where the edging meets the main body. As such, it's particularly airy. It is however a bit fiddly to do, and works more easily with a smooth finish yarn than with a hairy mohairy type lace yarn.

To use drawn loop, you cast on much as for knitting on. If you use half-hitch, knitting on or a cable cast on to add your edging's worth of stitches, you do so to your right hand needle, but instead of making a slip-knot for the first, you establish that first stitch by picking up a stitch in the edge-most loop of your main body, then work back a wrong side row to return the yarn strand to the rightmost side of your edging (and point of attachment). If you had the foresight to have incorporated a slip stitch edge in your main piece this will be easy. Otherwise you'll have to eyeball where to pick up. Difficult (which is why many patterns want you to pick up stitches along finished sides) but with practice this is do-able.

If you use a provisional cast-on like a crocheted chain, you'll put those new stitches onto the left hand needle, then work a wrong side row using your good yarn to return the rightmost side of the edging (and point of attachment).

Once you're back at that rightmost edge, you use your needle tip to draw another stitch up through the next selvage loop of the main body. Here's where it gets tricky. Enlarge that "stitch" until it's a loop of about 18 inches or so diameter (how big to make it will become clear after you've done a couple of iterations). That loop will have two "ends" - one firmly attached to the knitting, the other sliding free trailing back to your yarn ball. Grab the fixed end and give it a gentle tug to make sure there's no extra slack, then using the loop, work across the right side row of your edging. Flip the work over as usual, and work the wrong side row back, again using the giant loop. When you get back to the point of attachment, give another slight tug to the strand coming from the yarn ball to pull out any excess left over from your giant loop. Then repeat the process, drawing up another giant "stitch" in the next selvage loop and using it to knit a pair of edging rows. All of this sliding of the yarn back and forth as the large loops are made is the reason why this method works better with smooth rather than hairy finish yarns.

Again, like any attachment method that involves butting two pieces of perpendicular knitting, some adjustment of the ratio between rows worked to selvage stitches may be necessary. If the newly done edging is beginning to get too ruffly and fluttery, you may need to rip back a row or two and skip a selvage stitch. If the edging is drawing up and the body is beginning to gather, you may need to work an additional pair of edging rows without attachment.

Like I said, it's fiddly but effective, creating the lightest possible line of attachment between an edging and a live-stitch-lacking main piece, and avoiding pain-in-the-neck sessions picking up a zillion stitches around a piece's perimeter. I used drawn loop to good advantage on my Spring Lighting Lacy Scarf pattern, and plan on using it again on future designs.

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Now. Back to the present.

Sallyknitter sends an eMail asking how one goes about attaching an edging to a row of live stitches. I'll try my best to answer.

First, there are several ways of doing it. The simplest but most fussy is to knit the edging entirely separate, as a long strip - then sew it on using mattress stitch. Effective, but boring. Plus even using mattress stitch you can end up with a relatively bulky seam on the reverse compared to the rest of a gossamer-fine lace piece. I used this method on the two counterpane patterns in the wiseNeedle pattern collection, and on the tragic pink blanket now awaiting repair.

Having had my fill of producing an endless roll of edging, then an eternity sewing it on neatly, I now prefer knit-on edgings. They have the advantage of keeping one's stitches securely on the needles until they are both edged and bound off in the same pass. Knitting them on is relatively easy. Let's use an edging pattern I've described here before:

To work this onto the edge of a row of live stitches, I wouldn't even need to break my yarn off after completing the last round of my main piece. Using a half hitch I'd cast 8 stitches onto my right-hand needle, adjacent to the last stitch worked in the main body. If I started with half hitch, I'd purl 8 back, working row 12 of the pattern, with the exception that the blue box would be a plain purl instead of the "artifact" stitch left over after binding off 6. If I were to use a provisional cast-on employing waste yarn, I'd cast on 8 onto a DPN or the left-hand needle, then work across starting with row #1, but working the first stitch as a plain knit.

I'd then work the rows of my chart as directed. You'll note that on the final stitch of the even numbered (wrong side) rows, I purl the last edging stitch along with a live stitch from the existing edge. In the case of this particular pattern, given the row and stitch gauge difference, I found I had to "eat" additional live stitches as I attached, in order to prevent ruffling (which on some pieces can be a design feature rather than a bug). So on rows 6 and 12, I purl one stitch from my charted edging along with two live stitches from the piece's body.

Now. What do you do if there aren't live stitches? You pick them up. To knit the edging above onto a FINISHED edge, instead of purling the last even row stitch together with one stitch from the live body, I'd finish the even rows by picking a stitch up along the body of my finished piece. My odd numbered rows would then begin with a K2tog, knitting that new stitch together with the first stitch of my edging pattern.

Using these method, any edging from dead simple I-cord to elaborate lace can be attached to a live stitch edge or a finished piece. You can even use an edging to both finish and seam together TWO edges. I did that on these pillows.

I recently learned another slightly more involved method of knitting an edging onto a finished piece. It's the one I use in the Spring Lightning lacy scarf (pattern elsewhere on wiseNeedle). More on that tomorrow.

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This was the entry that I was hunting for when I discovered my missing month. It describes crocheting onto a needle to start a provisional cast-on instead of just making a crocheted chain and picking up stitches along the back ridge of bumps. This was originally posted on 22 June 2004.

WORKING REPORT - CRAZY RAGLAN

Enough boring everyone with rehab junk. You came here to read about knitting, and not to visit This Old House.

I've ripped out the entire mindless knitting raglan and started again. This time I'm doing it in the flat, and working both pieces side by side. Because I hate seaming ribbing I've decided to add it later in the round, after I've sewn the sweater body, so I've started out with a provisional cast-on. I favor the crochet chain method of provisional cast-on, but I detest fiddling with the crocheted chain, picking up the bumps along the chain's back. Instead I crochet my chain directly onto my knitting needle. Here's how:

First I pick a nice smooth cotton string-type yarn, and a crochet needle a size or two larger than I'd use with it for a crochet project. In this case, I raided the Baby Georgia I was using for the filet knitting project, and grabbed a Bates F size crochet hook (more on hook sizing another day).

To start, I chain up about five stitches, just to have a stable spot to begin and an end to hold as I do so. Then I take my knitting needle and hold it like this:

Holding the yarn in the back of the knitting needle, I reach up across the front of the knitting needle to grab the strand and form my crochet stitch. This lays a loop around the knitting needle itself, with the leading leg of the loop correctly oriented. After the stitch is formed, I use my left forefinger to flick the yarn around to the back of the knitting needle again:

Once the yarn is in the back of the needle, I'm ready to crochet on my next stitch.

I usually crochet on several more stitches than I need, just to be sure I have enough, and end off with five or six plain chains as insurance. Once the stitches are on the needle, I can switch to my knitting yarn and begin my first row of knitting. If I have more stitches cast on the needle than I need, I just slip off the excess. They become normal crochet chain stitches and sit quietly until the end of the project. No worries.

When it's time to awaken the provisional stitches and begin knitting in the other direction, I find the last chain stitch I did (tie a knot in the dangling end if you think you might not remember which is which), carefully unpick that last stitch, then pull the strand to zip out the crochet stitch by stitch. As each knit loop is freed, I slip it onto a waiting needle.

Here's my newly re-started raglan. Note that I'm knitting the back and the front at the same time. That way I am guaranteed that they match row for row and decrease placement for decrease placement.

I've done something here with the crocheted provisional cast-on that helps me keep life straight when working two pieces side by side. I've crocheted all of the stitches I need for both back and front in one long strand. First, following the procedure above, I made enough stitches for the back. Then I crocheted about ten free stitches without making loops on the needle. After that I made the stitches for the front, ending with a few extra chains. Using a different ball of yarn for each piece, I knit across first the front and then the back. The little bar of crochet anchors my two pieces together in the center and helps me remember which direction I'm going so that I don't get to the half-way mark, then head back across the same piece instead of working the other one. (As the work gets longer I'll safety pin the two pieces together closer to the top for the same reason.)

How did I manage to take the photos above? Not by growing extra arms, that's for sure. So far all of the "hands working" shots on this blog have been taken by Alex, my 8th grade daughter. She may not knit, but she handles a mean digital camera.

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[Repost of material originally appearing on 8 August 2006]

More questions and comments today via eMail.

Do you always use the half-hitch cast-on on two needles for medallions?

No. For octagonal or square medallions predicated on a starting stitch count of 4, or for triangular or hex medallions that start out with 3 stitches, I tend to use an I-cord beginning, working one round of I-cord, then introducing more needles as the work grows. But my I-cord also starts out with half-hitches rather than another, firmer cast-on. I often use the cast-on tail to thread through the half hitch "spine," drawing up the center purse-string style to make it nice and solid, but not lumpy. The only exception to this is if the center of the medallion is a large hole rather than a solid bit. If the edge of the cast on will be on display because it frames a central hole and structural integrity is key to a neat hole, then I use something more solid - either long-tail or one of the knit-on cast-on family.

I see several sources for learning how to knit lace in the flat, how about a source for the basics on inventing your own in-the-round medallions?

It's true that analyzing and inventing medallions aren't as widely addressed as flat lace. Some of the shawl books and specialized Shetland Knitting do go into a quite bit of detail on using lace patterns for center-out, radial increase pieces, but they mostly stick to squares. The most recent edition of Interweave Knits (Fall '06) has an informative article on what to do if your lacy pattern is interrupted by changing stitch counts - again very useful, but only part of the story. The Lewis Knitting Counterpanes book put out by Taunton gives lots of patterns for medallions, but is rather less useful as a source of hints for designing your own.

In spite of all these great sources, my at-the-elbow source for medallion knitting tips remains the venerable Mary Thomas Book of Knitting Patterns. It's the companion volume to her Knitting Book. Thomas is one of my personal heroes, both for these books and for her embroidery series. Judith in Oxon in the UK tells me that Mary Thomas grew up in her town, but is now forgotten there. What a shame.



Knitting Pattterns was first published in 1943, and has been in print ever since - most recently in an inexpensive Dover re-issue (pictured above). There's an extensive on-the-web preview of some content at Google Books if you're unfamiliar with it (the 1938 Knitting Book preview is also available, current inexpensive Dover edition shown above). For two slim volumes I am constantly amazed at how much info they contain.

The Thomas books bridge the Victorian and post-Victorian era ladies' pattern magazines, compendiums and encyclopedias of needlework (Weldon's, de Dillmont) and modern knitting guides (Vogue, Principles of Knitting). Thomas tried to seek out what was offered in conteporary scholarly info on textile history, and to explain some of the more esoteric aspects of craft execution in a non-ambiguous way - targeting an audience interested in process and technique rather than in devised patterns. For example, she was one of the first to use a system of standard block symbols to represent knitting texture and colorwork patterns in graphed format.

Of course nothing is perfect. Her knitting history reflects the state of research at the time she was writing, and is not as devoid of folk myth as is R. Rutt's, but it's not bad either. The biggest criticism people have of the Thomas books is of the small illustrations sprinkled throughout. The drawings are by "Miss H. Lyon-Wood, Miss Dorothy Dunmore and Miss Margaret Agutter" and reflect a rather colonial world view (especially of non-Europeans) that today would be considered culturally and racially insensitive. Of all the books, the Knitting Patterns (her last) has the least of these little cartoons, and her earlier works on embroidery, the most. As an aside, it's also worth noting that Agutter wrote books on cross stitch, crochet and patchwork quilting, and as a respected knitting expert, worked with James Norbury on Odham's Encyclopaedia of Knitting. I've heard rumors that the other two seem to have provided small illustrations and marginalia for several other contemporary books, plus some childrens' book illustrations, but haven't been able to confirm them.

Overlooking these flaws, things that recommend Knitting Patterns include sections on all sorts of lesser seen esoterica, including Filet Knitting (knitting in imitation of fliet crochet); picot point knitting (an amazingly fiddly bit of freeform scrumwork to make petal and flower-shaped bits of detached knitting for edgings or raised decoration); and basic steps in medallion knitting geometries. On the whole, given the ubiquity and extreme inexpensiveness of the Thomas books (both can be found used for under $2.00 each), they are useful additions to anyone's knitting library.

Other sources that delve into the mysteries of knitting medallions in the round include B. Walker's recently compiled Fourth Treasury of Knitting Patterns, in which a non-traditional approach to medallion knititng is addressed as an offshoot of directional knitting; and unlikely as it sounds - in the standard center-out method, inJudy Brittain's Bantam Step by Step Book of Needlecraft. I've written about the Bantam book before.

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[Repost of material originally appearing on 14 June 2006]

If you are translating between knitting in the round and knitting flat you may run into a direction to perform something on the right side of the work that you now need to do on a wrong side row (or vice versa).

The absolute best source for this info are the symbol key charts at the start of B. Walker's Charted Knitting Designs, and A Fourth Treasury of Knitting Patterns (and possibly several of her other smaller books, though not Walker I or II). It's the most complete, listing a huge number of stitch manipulations and giving directions - sometimes more than one set of directions - for ways in which that same manipulation can be achieved on both right side and wrong side rows. Other books of charted patterns including L. Stanfield's New Knitting Stitch Library give right side and wrong side equivalents, but I find the Walker set the most complete and the easiest to use as a ready reference.

The info below is abstracted from a small portion of her charts, but without her specific how-to write-ups. Items with asterisks are ones for which Walker gives multiple variants that should be subject to experiment before the optimal one is chosen. Her write-ups are excellent and should fuel countess hours of yarn-y tinkering.

Right Side Row	Wrong Side Row
K - Knit	P - Purl
P - Purl	K - Knit
(K1-b, K1) - Center double increase into one stitch	(P1b, p1) - Center double increase into one stitch
K2tog - Knit 2 together	P2 tog - Purl 2 together
SSK - Slip, slip knit	P2 tog b - Purl 2 together through the back of the stitch
P2 tog - Purl 2 together	K 2 tog - Knit 2 together
(S1, K2tog, PSSO) - Left slanting double decrease	(S1 WYIF, P2tog-b, PSSO) - Right slanting double decrease*
K3tog - Knit 3 together, a right slanting double decrease	P3 tog - Purl 3 together, a left slanting double decrease*
K3 tog b - Knit 3 together back, a left slanting double decrease*	P3 tog b - Purl 3 together, a right slanting double decrease*
(S2, K1, P2SSO) - Slip 2, knit one, pass 2 slipped stitches over, a center double decrease	(S2, P1, P2SSO) - Slip 2, knit one, pass 2 slipped stitches over (Specific method of slipping desribed*)

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[Repost of materail originally appearing on 12 June 2006]

We've looked at taking a pattern that's been written for circular knitting and parsing it out for knitting in the flat. That's pretty easy, as most items knit in the round are not drafted with much complex shaping. Texture designs and colorwork do impose limitations, as does some shaping. In most cases it's a matter of identifying seamlines, then doing the math to apportion the existing stitches into pieces defined by those seams.

Going the other way is harder, mostly because of the range of complexity of shape that can be accommodated by knitting in the flat. In general, the simpler the shape, the easier a piece is to translate. Drop shoulder sweaters with backs and fronts that are nearly identical are a cinch. Stuff with waist shaping, darts, princess style seaming, or other tailoring presents special challenges. But in spite of shaping most things can be knit either whole or in part using circular technique.

Starting with something simple, the Spring '06 edition of Knitty contains Jamesey, a pattern by Mary Neal Meador. It's a nicely patterned simple men's pullover, worked flat in knit/purl combos. There's minimal shaping, and the texture pattern with no row count abberations or increases and decreases is easy to translate for in the round knitting. There's one tiny bit in her Sideways Stitch description that bears paying special attention.

To work Jamesey in the round, I'd add the total stitches front and back. I would NOT modify the pattern to substitue a full pattern repeat for theextra non-pattern-repeat stitches at the leftmost and rightmost sides of the front and back unless I were very ambitious. Doing so is a refinement to be sure, but one that's totally optional. Unless the piece was intended to be very fitted or the gauge was large, I wouldn't eliminate any stitches on the sides that in a sewn piece would be eaten up by seam allowance. BUT if I felt that four extra stitches of width at my gauge WOULD make a noticeable difference in fit, I'd take the time to refigure the stitch counts without them (remember that this would have to be done all the way around the piece, on the body and sleeves both).

In general, first I'd begin reading the pattern and noodling out how to deal with it's tougher parts. This sounds like a dumb thing to say, but I know lots of people who knit with the "headfirst off the pier" approach. They grab needles and yarn and start in without taking the time to work through the piece mentally and to make sure they understand it. While this step can be less intensive if you're knitting something verbatim as written, if you're translating between flat and circular knitting not taking the time to really understand the original can be fatal to your project. I'd also point out that if you are knitter who rarely reads ahead, you are far more trusting than I. I've found lots of patterns that were poorly written or confusing. At the very least, knowing ahead of time that rocks are in the stream makes the the rapids less of a surprise.

In this case I'd begin by casting on the stitches for the front, placing a marker, casting on the stitches for the back and working the pattern as written up to the tricky Sideways Stitch rows. I'd work the front to the marker, then the back to the second marker. Every row will be a right-side row, so the texture pattern - conveniently graphed out - would be very simple to follow. The piece would grow as a single tube until the Sideways Stitch rows.

Those rows are written up for back and forth knitting, and need a bit of examination to translate them. Round 1 is pretty easy - it amounts to working the pattern as described, but laying the stitches so that their front legs are in the back of the needle. This twists them. (If you're unfamiliar with stitch mounting, you can pop over here.) The second row requires the knitter to work backwards the way he or she has come. In the case of knitting in the round, it would be simplest to turn the tube inside out and accomplish the directions as written, knitting counterclockwise around the piece until the starting marker was reached. BUT just before I'd do so, I'd wrap what would have been the next stitch if I were to have continued around normally. Wrapping this stitch, then when it is encountered later, working it along with its wrap will help prevent a little hole from forming. Once I'd done the second round of the sideways stitch, I'd flip my tube back out so that the public side was on the outside of the thing, then continue with the third row of the Sideways Stitch pattern.

Having accomplished the tricky bit, I'd return to plain old knitting in the round until I had gotten to the point where the sleeve would eventually be set. That point isn't marked on the schematics, but it's pretty simple to figure out in a drop shoulder piece. I'd take the measurement across the top of th the pattern's flat-knit sleeve and divide it in half. Then I'd subtract that from the height of the body. When I'd reached the point where the bottom of the sleeve was to be sewn on, I'd have a choice. The easiest way to finish off would be to split the piece front and back, and finish each piece knit flat on the circ, using a separate ball of yarn for each one. However this is a return to knitting in the flat. For some people it might smack of defeat. Others have very different gauges when they knit in the flat - enough to make a visible horizon across the sweater.

The alternative is to steek. Remember the markers indicating the "seam lines" dividing the front and back stitches? I'd work up to one, cast on three or four stitches, then continue around to the other and repeat the procedure. This will add a couple of stitches left and right to the sleeve area. The body will be just a bit wider at this point, with the extra width being clear to spot. I'd work the extra in plain stockinette. I'd continue to finish out the body, perhaps following the simple neckline shaping directions verbatim (with the introduction of that second ball again); or perhaps knitting straight across that area in anticipation of forming the shape by machine stitching and cutting later. (We'll get back to steeking in a bit).

Sleeves are easy in this piece. There's simple shaping - increases at the left and right of the pieces at regular intervals, making them into simple elongated trapezoids. Again I'd cast on and join in the round - probably starting out on DPNs. I'd introduce a stitch marker to indicate the beginning of the round, and assort my stitches so that it wasn't apt to fall off the end of a DPN. Then I'd work in the round, introducing my increases as paired increases on either side of the marker.

Once I had the sleeves and body done, if I had chosen to steek, I'd stabilize the extra stitches I introduced to the body tube. Some people do this with a line of slip stitch crochet or hand-embroidered chain stitch. I prefer to whip out my ancient Elna and run a couple lines of machine stretch stitch on either side of my intended cut line. I'd then cut carefully between the machine stitched lines to make my opening. If I were doing the stitch and cut method of making the neckline, I'd draft out the curve I wanted onto a paper template, pin it to my piece and machine stitch along its edge.

Although this sounds hard, mostly it's figuring out how wide and how deep the neck area should be, then taking a piece of paper and folding it in half - marking the width and depth on it and cutting a symmetrical curve by hand to match. Paper is cheap so if it takes several tries it's o.k. The alternative of course is to whip out the French curve or drafting program and produce a proper drafted piece. Either part of the paper can be used, although I do find using the smaller inner curve piece to be easier to pin out flat onto my knitting.




At this point finishing whether you've worked flat for the upper body or in the round for the whole thing is pretty much the same - sewing the shoulder seams and setting in the sleeves.

Now. What about pieces with complex shaping - waist nips or princess line seams?

Those features work more or less like the sleeves. I introduce a marker at the point where the seam line should be, then work the increases or decreases as directed, on either side of the marker in accordance with pattern directions. Areas where you are told to cast off can be harder. For example in the princess style schematic, at the head of the front body side panel in there's a "blind end" where the body side panels terminate short of the sleeve. I suspect I'd have to noodle on that one quite a while, and the solution would require short row shaping. Not easy. But for the determined willing to experiment and rip back - not totally impossible, either.

I can't cover every eventuality of shaping and its implications for translation from flat to round knitting, but I hope I've given you an idea of the general process.

Yesterday's Post

I wasn't claiming that the Knitters pattern was ripped off from mine. First of all, it's not my pattern. All I did was slap a couple of ornamental stitches onto a well known published piece. I own nothing here. Plus traffic on this site is so low that it's highly unlikely that anyone who saw something on String two years ago consciously repeated it. My post was instead more of a "neeener neener neener" piece, accompanied by gloating rather than accusational finger pointing.

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Before I was overtaken by creeping Deadline Disease, I promised three things - some general principles on translating flat knit patterns to kntting in the round; a list of increase and decrease stitch equivalents for right and wrong side rows; and why someone would want to knit either way. That's a bit much for one day.  Even for long-winded me.  Let's start with the most subjective - why one would choose one style over the other.

To start off with I'l make some bold statements that kntting historians are welcome to debate.  Knitting garments in the round was far more prevalent during most of knitting's history.  Think of socks, hats, and traditional sweaters - most of them were worked that way.  Seamed knitting (knitting in the flat) appears to have taken off around the time that knitting made the transition from traditonal garment to fashion wear - roughly about the same time when written patterns became more prevalent.  I believe it did so in order to conform better to fashionable clothing's styles, tailoring and fit, and to allow greater reproduceability of results among an audience already familiar with sewn garment methods.

Why knit in the round?

• Simple, quick garment construction
• Simple pattern writing for boxy shapes
• Minimizes purling on stockinette pieces
• Eliminates (or minimizes) seaming
• Takes advantage of knitting's inherent elasticity for fit
• Easier production of stranded colorwork
• Easier production of texture and lace patterns that require increase/decrease manipulations on every row
• Ideology (there's a strong lobby of knitting purists that advocate it as the most natural or historically-connected way to knit)
• Fewer pieces to lose or match in gauge
• Flashing (color stacking of space dyed yarns) works better
• Easier to ravel back and add length or replace worn sections.
• If using one circ, fewer needles to use than knitting in the flat

Why knit in the flat?

• More complex and tailored garment shapes can be achieved
• Pattern writing for complex shaping is simpler for designers trained in garment construction theory
• Easier to adjust tif you need to produce complex garments in multiple sizes
• Seams can add structure and strength to a piece
• Smaller individual units can be more convenient to produce
• Intarsia colorwork is easier to do
  
• Eliminates cast on row join challenge, especially on fine gauge garments that employ large stitch counts
• Eliminates the at-join color jog problem (to be specific it substitutes a match stripes at seam problem)
• Can be easier to measure garments in progress to determine compliance with required dimensions
• In flight modification for fit can be simpler because problems can be spotted after one piece is made, and the entire garment does not need to be ripped back to make adjustments
• Easier to add width while the garment is in progress
• No scary DPNs or circs needed.  Fewer needles to loose compared to DPNs, no DPN juncture ladder problems
• Straight needles are less expensive than circs, and multiple lengths needn't be purchased.  No need to have multiple diameters of the same size needle on hand to accommodate tubes of various diameters (required unless many DPNs, a two-circ or the oversized circ method is used)
• Easier to block pieces before final finishing stage.

I've probably left the reason why you chose one method or the other off these lists.  Feel free to add it in a comment.

Each method has its own strengths and shortcomings.  Each has styles for which it is particularly suited.  And each can be manipulated to do most of what the other style is better suited to do.  You can make faux seams on something knitted in the round. You can do stranded colorwork on something knitted in the flat.  You can add shaping to an in the round piece through planned and judicious use of increases and decreases to mimic the fabric manipulations of darts or tailored seaming. 

n many cases there's logic in the choice of one method over another.  Dale's Norwegian stranded pieces are perfectly suited for knitting in the round.  They employ strategies like steeking to place shaped collars or introduce other construction features.  I'm sure people have done it, but I wouldn't want to translate one of them for knitting in the flat - there's nothing to be gained by doing so.  Complex tailoring like this from a discontinued Berroco pattern would be a headache to render in circular knitting.  BUT logic doesn't always prevail.  I have seen commercial patterns for stranded sweaters that ARE knitted in the flat.  I'd take a hard look at them to see if I could produce them in the round.   Likewise, I've seen all sorts of contortions and cutting done to circular knit patterns in the name of making them less boxy. Again I'd have to take a closer look to see if using an alternate approach was better.

While you're far more likely to see in-the-round direction today than you were 25 years ago when I started knitting, you'll still find that many fashion oriented magazines and yarn manufacturers booklets offer up more patterns for knitting in the flat than they do the other method.  I'm thinking pubs like Vogue Knitting, Adriafil's Dritto& Rovescio and most of the modern European books, plus the old Phildar, Aarlan, and Pingouin books. 

As in so many things, ideology does play a part.  You can find books written in the 1940s through 1960s that sniff at knitting in the round, calling it "peasant work" or noting it in passing as the dreary ancestor of  more modern applications.  And you can find books written by knitting revivalists that excoriate the torture of imposing tailored seamed construction on a medium that has so many virtues in its most simple form.  I'm dogma-agnostic.  I use whichever method is best for me to produce the project at hand.  Which brings me to the real reason why I think patterns are written one way or the other:

• It's what the pattern's author/designer is most comfortable with

Overall though, the motivation to change something from flat to circular knitting is far more common than yesterday's case.  Anything with a rectangular construction and minimal shaping  is a natural - especially sweaters with drop shoulders.  The exceptions might be sweaters in yarns that are prone to biasing or stretching, or ones in particularly flimsy yarns or knit in very open textures.  In those cases the structural integrity imposed by firm seams might be crucial to garment drape and longevity.  I'll look at this in more detail in the next overly long post.

HolidayInnEloise saw yesterday's post and sent in a question via eMail.  She's not a fan of knitting in the round and wants to know if the Cabin Fever pattern I am using can be worked flat back and forth on two needles.  She's a bit confused by how to change a top down in the round sweater into a more standard format.  I'll try to answer.

First, while there are exceptions, most things that are knit in the round can be parsed to knit in the flat either in part or in their entirety.  Many but not all things that are knit flat can be knit in the round.  Like with everything in knitting, knowing the logic behind the design can help you make the transition.

To go from round to flat, there are two big things to take into consideration - the garment shape and the knitting texture or colorwork pattern used.  In order to transform a seamless thing into a knit-flat thing, seams must be introduced.  Sometimes figuring out where to put them can be a challenge.  The sweater I'm working on now is of very simple construction, but even it presents a challenge.

Following the original pattern, I started by making a tube for the collar.  After that there was a row of increases to add a bit more scope for the next step - symmetrical increases on either side of four diagonal lines from collar to armpit (the raglan lines).  The piece proceeded more or less like a poncho or capelet until the depth of the raglan increase lines accommodates a loose shoulder toarmpit fit (along the way one is directed to stop making increases otherwise the piece would grow too wide, but that's a minor quibble).  After the capelet type shoulder yoke was done, the sleeve stitches were slipped off onto holders, and with the addition of a few extra stitches under each arm, the remaining stitches for front and back were worked as a big tube.  After the body tube was completed, the sleeve stitches were retrieved from their holders and worked out to the cuff, with some decreases at the bottom center to remove bulk.

Thinking through the logic top down we've got a challenge right off the bat.  To me, the turtleneck collar is a lost cause.  No one wants seams on the inside of an already bulky turtleneck.  That feature will probably need to be knitted in the round on DPNs.  After that we've got the capelet yoke area, formed by the faux raglan style increases.  The most obvious choice to flat-ify this part is to turn the unibody capelet back into four pieces - a front, a back and two sleeves - to be seamed together along the raglan lines as real raglans are. 

To do this, I'd probably take the stitch count from the after-collar increase row just before the faux-raglan feature starts, and deconstruct it back into those four pieces.  For example, I'd take the recommended stitch count for the front and add two selvedge stitches.  These will be eated up as seam allowance when the garment is sewn together.  Then I'd follow the instructions for the front area, working my increases as directed, but doing them TWO stitches in from the edge (one stitch to make the decorative line, plus the selvedge stitch for sewing up later).  At the post-raglan point where the piece is long enough according to the original pattern, (when the sleeve stitches were slipped onto holders), I'd cast on one quarter of the total stitches that are to be added at the left edge of my piece and half at the right, then continue knitting to the specified total length. (Remember the original just gives one number to be added between what is the front and back.  I need to divide that by four and put one quarter at each edge of my front.  The remaining stitches would be added to the back.)  I'd end up with an object shaped like a house with a Mansard roof.  The other pieces would be made the same way.   The back would be identical to the front.  The sleeves would be similar but predicated on a smaller initial cast-on.  I'd assemble the thing by first sewing the raglan seams, then the seam from lower hem to cuff.  Finally I'd pick up my provisional stitches at the neck and add the collar.

But I'm not bound to do this piece top-down.  I could also knit it in the flat bottom-up.  I could divide the ending body stitch count in half (adding a selvedge stitch at either side to make up for a seam allowance) and working on half the stitches - knit the front and back flat up to the undearm.  At that point, I'd cast off the stitches that were added in the original just after the sleeves were slipped off, removing one quarter at each edge.  Then I'd start the raglan shaping.  But in a bottom-up piece, that shaping will be formed by decreases rather than increases.  To preserve the simple yarn over detail of the original I'd need to do a bit of playing.  First I'd work an inch or two plain (in the original the raglan area ended before the piece was long enough to reach the underarm).  Then I'd work the left edge of my piece K1, SSK, YO, SSK; and the right edge K2tog, YO, K2tog, K1.  The K1s are the selvedge stitches.  The [decrease] YO [decrease} unit adds up to a net loss of one stitch, with one of the decreases making up for the decorative YO. This won't be exactly analagous to the original because the stitches framing the YOs will be heavier, but it will be close enough to preseve the general appearance.  When I had the requisite number of YOs and my stitch count was equal to the post-collar neckline count (plus two for the selvedge stitches), I'd slip everything onto a holder and begin the next piece.  The back would be made the same way. 

The sleeves would start off with the final stitch count for the cuff, and along the way add a stitch at either edge right or left (I'd probably do M1 increases two stitches in from the edge at the ends of a row just to keep things neat when I seamed).  I'd knit the same length below the raglan line that I did on the front and back, then plunge into the same logic to make the decorative raglan line itself.  Once there were the same number of YOs in the raglan line of the sleeve I would guess that the sleeve's upper dimension matched that of the front and back exactly (the open holes are more than decorative, they make the thing easier to count and measure).  I'd slip the remaining stitches onto a holder and seam all the raglan lines.  After that I'd sew the side seams and pick up and knit the collar in the round on DPNs.

Another alternate method would be a hybrid between flat and circular knitting.  I'd work the front and back up to the point where the extra stitches are cast off, and the sleeves until they met the body to cuff measurement.  Then I'd arrange them all on a circular needle, and finish out the couple inches of plain work followed by the raglan capelet yoke part in one big knit in the round piece.  I'd still have seams to sew under the arms and from the armpit to the hem, but that would be it.  (To do this, I'd eliminate the selvedge stitch that I added to the raglan edges in my first all flat knit alternative.

The second factor that might affect the transition from round to flat knitting is texture.  In this particular sweater it's not an issue.  I've got miles of stockinette, a couple of rows of purl welting, and some K2, P2 rib.  That's it.  In the round stockinette is "never stop knitting."  Flat stockinette is alternate rows of knit and purl.  No big translation problem there.  However, if I had a texture pattern and the original was knit in the round I'd need to do the mental shuffle, turning knits to purls and vice versa for the odd numbered wrong-side rows. Having a texture pattern in chart format makes the right-side/wrong-side translation easier.   I might even need to adjust the row on which the pattern starts so that the bulk of my increases and decreases end up on an easy-to-manipulate right side (knit) row.  Yes, they can be done on a wrong side (purl) row, but then the problem of which increase or decrease when done on the purl side mimics standard right side row stitches intrudes.  All exist, but many are puppy awkward to do (more on this tomorrow). 

Colorwork in the original can also present a challenge.  Many people find stranding easier in the round.  You always have a right-side row facing you, and it's very simple to see the design build as you knit.  Stranding can be worked flat too, with every other row a purl row.  It's harder to see the pattern on the purl side, and some folks don't enjoy manipulating multiple strands while making purls.

So there you have it.  The first thing to do is to examine the original in the round pattern and see where seams would go.  The second is to look at the texture or color pattern used to see if it can be comfortably translated.  Once the individual pieces are determined, the cast on numbers can be derived from the original pattern (half for the front, half for the back, plus an optional selvedge stitch).  Then it's just a matter of knitting and seaming.

Tomorrow I'll look at going in the other direction, what the equivalents of standard increases/decreases are if you do them on the wrong side, translating flat knitting into circular knitting and why one might want to work in one style or the other. 

Some people have asked how Elder Daughter (about to be 15) did all the math that led up to her bunny's pirate sweater.  I don't think they were asking how she was able to accomplish the task in the first place, but instead, what methods she used.  All those numbers sound daunting, but it's really not that hard if you take it step by step.  I wanted to to do as many steps as possible, so we started out with as little information beforehand.  Here's what she did, taken in large part from the write-up that was on her poster.

First, as I said - I was evil.  I gave her a lump of yarn without a label.



Now I knew what it was, but Evil OverMoms don't tell.  The first thing she did was determine how many yards of yarn she had.  Here's her write-up (the spacing on the equations is a bit squirrely because they were exported from MS Word's equation editor):

First, I had to find the total weight of the yarn. Using a scale, I found I had to 225 grams of yarn, total.

Then, I turned to a precision instrument to help me. The McMorran balance is designed to determine yardage per pound.  The formula that comes with the balance requires the user to first find out how long a piece of yarn is needed to make the balance register level.  My balancing length for this yarn was 9.75 inches.

 The next step is to use the formula that comes with the balance to determine yards per pound (YPP):

 

 In my case

My yarn has 975 yards per pound, but I needed to find out how many yards were in 225 grams.  The formula to convert grams to pound is:

Plugging in my values I find out:

Now I multiply YPP times my weight in pounds:

And so Elder Daughter defeated the first yarn demon, and determined how much yardage was contained in her tangle - a whopping 482.6 yards.   I'll post more in this series when she brings her poster home and we can scan her drawings.  For the record, McMorran Balances also come in a metric version.  But I have the Imperial unit one, and it was more fun to make sure she did as many conversions back and forth as possible.  

I promised to describe how I avoid those small holes that can form at the top of the diagonal line of joins formed by short row style heels.  Please bear with this household's limited photography skills.  Those are my hands.  Elder Daughter (now 14) is manning the camera. 

To start - here is my sock, worked toe up on five needles.  Each with the same number of stitches on it. This sock is ideal for illustrating this process because I have planned my sock foot depth to hit at the points of color change.  It's easier to refer to stitches by color.  Apologies if you're color-impaired.

I have just completed the knit side row in which I have knit together that last wrapped stitch along with the wraps at its base.  There are no more stitches "in front" of me, waiting to be wrapped.  I'm ready to rejoin the body of the sock.  But before I do so there's one last step that needs to be done with the leftmost heel needle and streteched out stitches in the interstice between the heel needle (green and white stitches) and the body needle (orange stitches).  I've put down my empty needle and am about to do this next step using the needle bearing the green and white heel stitches.


In step two, you can see that I've gone one round down below my active row and am in the process of picking up one stitch, using the tip of my heel needle.



Step 3 shows that picked up stitch (light green), safely parked on my heel needle.  At this point, my just-completed heel needle contains ONE MORE stitch than all of the others.  After Step 3, I pick up my fifth needle and knit across the first then second needle bearing my top-of-foot stitches.



When I get to the other side of the top-of-foot stitches and have my fifth needle poised to start working up the right side of my heel, I pause.  There are two anomalies on this side.  First - we'll need to do the same pick-up of one stitch as we did at the end of the first heel needle.  The second is a bit trickier.  If you look closely, you'll see that because I launched directly into my first full round after re-activating the last wrapped heel stitch on heel needle #1, I never got back to the commencement of the heel to re-awaken the rightmost heel stitch on the other heel needle.  You can see it below, noosed by its blue wrapping stitch.  THIS IS O.K.  NOT TO WORRY.  We'll deal with it as part of this side of heel.



Now (in spite of blurry pix), you can see that using my empty fifth needle, I am picking up one stitch in the row below the first stitch on my heel needle.  It's light green, and is being formed in the orange stitches below the start of the turquoise heel stripe.



Next is the wrapped stitch cheat.  In the shot above you can see there are actually two wraps on this first heel stitch.  One is blue, one is green/white.  The blue stitch happened first, and is lower on the carrying stitch than is the nearly impossible to see green/white one.  It is extremely difficult to work both of these wrapped stitches along with the carrier.  So I cheat.  I lift the lower wrap (blue) and place it on the end of my heel needle.  Then I knit it and the carrier stitch together, ignoring that other green/white wrap.  UNLESS THEY'VE READ THIS CHEAT, NO ONE WILL EVER NOTICE THE OMISSION.   It will have no effect on sock wear, or the presence or absence of that litle hole.



Now because I've picked up a stitch on this needle too, I have two top-of-foot needles that each bear my original number of stitches, plus two heel needles that each bear my original number + 1 stitch.  On this next round I take care of that.  I work across heel needle #1, taking care to do a SSK on the last two stitches.  I'm now back to my original count, and have eliminated the gusset hole on this side of the heel.  I work across the top of the foot stitches as usual.  When I get to the other heel needle, I knit the first two stitches together.  Again I'm back to my original count, and have snicked up any potential hole on this side.  Once I've completed this "remedial decrease" row, I consider my heel complete and go on to do whatever I feel like for the ankle.

Here's the result:

Linda writes in with a sock-related question.

Do you weigh your skeins/balls of sock yarn before you start?

She goes on to point out that she weighs her sock yarn that comes in "makes a pair" size balls (usually marked at 100g).  Because (like me) she knits for big feet, she is also often afraid that she'll run out if she makes sock #1 too large.  Weighing the remaining yarn as she knits sock #1 tells her how close she is to having used up 50% of the total. 

It's a good idea, but I don't do it.  Mostly because the lousy kitchen scale I have at home isn't precise enough for the task at hand.  That and laziness.  Also at this point, trust.  I know that a 100g ball of yarn is plenty for a pair for me, even with my clown-sized feet.  and that if I knit the foot to fit, then knit the ankle part as long as the foot, I'll have enough left over for 2 inches of ribbing.  That doesn't mean I don't get nervous.  I do.  Sometimes I do run short.  So I suppose I really should go out and buy a decent scale...

This brings up Linda's second observation.  To paraphrase:

Sometimes the ball weight is less than the label states.  My ball of Sockotta I just started is labeled 100 gms but weighed in at only 94 gms. Maybe my scale is wrong...

While a calibration or accuracy difference between any two measurement devices is always a possibility, perhaps her scale isn't wrong.  Yarn weight is measured under "standard conditions."  Presumably if Linda was experiencing the same set of conditions (most specifically - humidity), her ball of yarn would weigh the full 100g.  It's also not entirely unknown for distributors to offer products that hit the exact mark only as an over-the-lot average, with some balls being heavy and others light.  Certainly not optimal but not uncommon either.  Inconsistent yardage has been mentioned in the wiseNeedle yarn reviews (sample:  Diana, Dulce, .Manos, Melin, Tibet).   Finally there ARE some yarns that are consistently short of the listed yardage.  That's a big flaw that has also cropped up a few times in the yarn reviews posted on wiseNeedle (sample:  Superwash 12 Ply, Nature Cotton). 

Should one expect every skein to hit the 50g or 100g (or whatever mark)?  Under ideal conditions, yes.  But I doubt it will happen often in our imperfect universe.  My solution to the problem is on larger projects - to buy that extra skein as insurance.  I've dipped into my insurance yarn often enough to make it a standard part of my yarn purchase planning.

Several people wrote to express surprise and/or commiseration that I was struggling with the join-twist problem on my camo-flash tee.  It's an easy problem to have, and one that's not limited to beginners.  I find some things exacerbate the chance of twisting:

• Having too many stitches for the needle's circumference
  

If the stitches are jammed onto the needle they have a tendancy to ruffle the cast on edge, no matter what cast-on is used.  Even more so if the cast-on edge is narrow.  That's why I ended up knitting several rows of stockinette in waste yarn.  That gave my "cast-on row" some bulk and weight, and helped sort out the ruffle

• Using a circular instead of a flock of DPNs.  

Now most people will disagree with me on this one. DPN fear runs deep.  But I at least find it far easier to tame an in the round cast-on row if it has been done on several smaller straight needles than on one circ (or two circs).  A couple of factors here get in my way with the circs.  First, even if they've been carefully de-kinked using the hot water method, they still curve.  Second, they are not uniform in girth around their entire circumference.  Stitches twist more on the skinny cable part than they do on the fatter business ends of circs.  Using DPNs all the stitches are held on areas of uniform thickness.  I usually cast onto my DPNs in sequence, then lay the entire work out flat on the table, in a rough circle, making sure each needle's cast-on edge is turned to the inside of the circle.  On DPNs that edge stays where I want it, held in place by friction on the needle's thickness.  Circs aren't as easy to sort out this way.  The stitches on the skinny part twist every which way, and the springy cable parts themselves rebel at neat alignment.  Keeping two circs in proper orientation is even  harder.

• Lots of stitches in the absolute
  

The bigger the piece, the harder it is to keep the stitches in alignment.  The hardest circular cast on I ever did was on a cardigan I knit for my grandmother.  It was black, with an originalstranded pattern in white in the traditional Fair Isle yoke area.  It was also in fingering weight acrylic (a slippery yarn) as she specified "easy care" for the gift.  At 8 spi I had something like 340 stitches around.  And around.  And around...

So for the most part, I use DPNs to start off circular pieces.  Even adult circumference sweaters.  I do use a couple of tricks though. 

First, unlike this piece, I do not often start out with a provisional cast-on. The need to go back and work the live edge later did introduce an element of complexity, and until I did the waste yarn thing, made an even more ruffly than usual bottom edge.  This in turn made keeping it sorted out more difficult.  For large circumference pieces, I usually use a tubular cast on, similar to the method Kris described in a comment on yesterday's post.   I use straights, and using a provisional cast-on, create half the number of stitches needed.  I knit five or so rows in plain stockinette.  Then I unzip the provisional cast-on and stick a second straight into the newly freed stitches, making sure that the points of both straights end up on the same edge of my now suspended strip of knitting.  Next I fold the strip in half, and using a third needle (often in this case, a circ), alternately knit one stitch off the needle in front and purl one stitch off the needle in back.  This gives me a sturdy and attractive edge, and enough of a bottom ridge that when joined into a round for circular knitting, avoids the twist problem on the first truly circular round.  If people are interested in pix of this, I'll try to take a demo sequence, but at this point I'm sure the tubular cast-on I describe can be found on photo how-to sites elsewhere.

My second trick is casting on using long DPNs.  I adore Euro-style extra long DPNs, and buy them whenever I see them.  My collection is far from complete, and the sizing and set numbers are a bit strange because many of my finds are yard sale orphans or even "antique" British needles that originally came in sets of only three.  Even so, I do have several DPN sets in the 12-18 inch long range.   Theyr'e very convenient for casting on, even if they end up being a smidge off standard sizing.  A half or quarter size down is usually a good thing if casting on wool, to control stretch; conversely the same amount larger can be useful in casting on cotton or linen to introduce a bit more ease in a tight initial row.

Some people swear by using a contrasting color for the cast on row.  As you can see from my problems with this project, having a white row at the bottom of a mostly-green piece didn't help much.  So there you have it.  Reasons (not excuses) why this problem plagues so many people at all levels of expertise.

Yesterday I wrote about establishing the flash value.  Today I write about what might go wrong while you're doing so.

First, there's the gauge problem.  When I do it, the gauge of the row that I pick up off the provisional chain isn't exactly the same as my plain old stockinette gauge.  The waste yarn choice or tension of how I knit that first row can cause all sorts of oddities.  This is especially true for me when I use larger size needles (anything over a US #3).  As I knit the second row I might find my color alignment drifting because there are too many or too few stitches in the pick-up row.  Not many, but enough to throw things off.  For example, row two might hit a designated color change point several stitches before that same spot appeared on the cast-on row.  If that happens I might cheat on the knit row immediately following my cast-on.  If I see the color repeat drifting too much to the right, I might knit two stitches together.  Conversely, if I "over-run" a color match point, I might rip back a couple of inches, then do a make-one to add a stitch, bringing the target sploches into better alignment. 

I do however have to take care if I change the stitch count.  If you look at my parrot-color sweater, you'll see wide swings where the colors lurch from side to side.  That's normal.  Two things make the zig-zags happen.  First, one's tension is not always uniform.  Most of us have near imperceptible changes in gauge as we sit through a knitting session.  We knit more tightly when we sit down, then loosen up a bit as our hands relax.  Finally when we get tired, we tighten up again.  Tighter knitting migrates the colors to the right.  Looser knitting migrates the stripes to the left.  I knit my parrot sweater's body in two sessions.  They're easy to pick out.



Hand painted yarns also have a playful imprecision in color placement.   They are never as regimented in their color placement as machine printed yarns (sock self-stripers).   That's the second factor, and what makes the edges of the stripe so step-like.  Color segments seep into the hank at different rates at different places, yielding different saturations and slightly different lengths of the color segments from strand to strand.  And some blobs may not go all the way through the hank and may seem to disappear after several repeats.



You can see clearly, above.  Look at the 8:00 position on my skein.  There's a spot of brown.  It encroaches on the teal and bleeds into the khaki, but doesn't do it uniformly through the hank.  It's most evident on the top of the skein.  Underneath it looks like the teal touches the khaki directly, with no intermediary fling into brown at all.

This brings me to the second thing that can go wrong.  Not every hand-painted skein is ideal for this type of knitting.  The longer the repeat and wider the individual color splotches, the better suited a yarn is for flashing.  My new yarn is borderline.  I expect some parts will align nicely.  The big teal areas show special promise.  I am expecting the brown and  khaki bits to dance between the teal areas because they are so short and so haphazardly sized.  I am not going to get the clear zig-zag stripe of my parrot sweater.  Instead I'm expecting something with more of a softer forest floor/camoflauge look.

UPDATE:  The third factor that limits flash is generated by how the skein is dyed, in conjunction with the total garment circumference.  Strands that are adjacent in the original hank when it was dyed are more likely to be close or near-close matches than are strands that are further apart.  If you have a garment that's small enough to be traversed around by only two repeats, the color stacking you will see will be much more in alignment than will a garment knit from the same yarn that takes five full repeats to complete one round.  That's wny it's not uncommon to see flash kits for toddler sweaters but less common to see them for adult sizes. If I were into dyeing and wanted to aim for flashing yarn in an adult circumference, I might try winding my yarn into hanks that are significantly wider around than the sizes most commonly used.

Now after several fits and starts of my own project - all the result of the pitfalls outlined abouve  (you have to be willing to rip out several times if you're going to start a flash sweater), I think I've got the stitch count thing down.  I hope to have actual pix of it in the next post.

First a cool thing:  stud earrings in the shape of the end buttons from old Susan Bates US #1 straights (bottom of the page). 

Flash Dance

I'm working with my latest yarn present - the hand-dyed cotton brought home from Arizona by the Resident Male:



My goal is to turn it into a t-shirt that flashes.  By that I want to have the color segments line up one on top of each other so that the finished product looks like it was painted:



Based on new yarn's look and circumference, I'm reasonably certain that I can do this, but two questions remain.

1. Will the final dimensions dictated by having to use full multiples of the skein length for each round of knitting be useful sizes.  In other words, my final sweater size will be dictated by how many stitches it takes to achieve flash.  Will that size fit?
2. How does one go about figuring out how many stitches to cast on to achieve this effect anyway?

The two questions are closely related.  This skein is  similar to a yarn I've used before.  In that yarn (not the one above), it took about 60 stitches to consume an entire repeat (give or take).  At five stitches per inch, that works out to about 12 stitches of linear knitting per repeat.  A flashing garmet knit from that yarn could be roughly 24 inches, 36 inches or 48 inches around.   24 inches would be too small for Younger Daughter, but a 36-inch sweater will Older Daughter.  48 inches will fit me.

 But will my new yarn hit that target.  Not closely enough to be absolutely certain.  This skein is a tad smaller in circumference than the old one.  (To determine the skein diameter of the old one, I took my balled up leftovers and wound some around my swift, lining up the color slices.  When the colors aligned, I knew I had "reconstructed" the original skein's width.)  The old skein was about a full yard in circumference.  This one is about 30-31 inches so I'd expect that the color cycle would be smaller.   For a rough approximation, I divided 36 inches by 60 stitches.  I get about .6 inch of yarn consumed per stitch.  That seems a bit high but not outside of reason.  30 inches "eaten" at the same rate would result in 50 stitches.  I suspect that my flash value will be somewhere in the 50-stitch neighborhood.  Five repeats of 50 stitches and a gauge of 5 stitches per inch would yield a garment circumference around 50 inches.  A bit big, but not outside of wearability.

Now all the math theory in the world can't substitute for actual experimentation.  Having done the base noodle work, it's time to try it out.  I know that whatever I end up knitting, I will want to be as yarn-economical as possible.  It might be necessary to eke out my limited amount of flash yarn with something else for ribbings or edgings, so I'll start with a provisional cast-on. 

I like the crochet chain provisional cast-on, preferably worked right onto the needles to avoid the fiddly bit of picking up stitches in the chain's back bumps.  I cast on far more stitches than I needed because with the crochet chain cast-on, you can slide any excess off the needles (or not pick up in the bumps) with no adverse effect on the project.  So using a plain old bit of cotton string for ease of removal later, I cast on about 270 chain stitches and set it aside.

Another complication.  In a screamingly bright  color combo like the parrot sweater above, it's easy to figure out where a color cycle begins.   That yellow is killer and can't be missed.  My new yarn however contains colors that are much closer in value.  There are three repeating segments per full cycle: teal, khaki, brown.  How will I know when I've gotten back to the beginning point?  Having wound my yarn into a big ball already it is no longer obvious where the cycles end.  An artificial flag is necessary.

Just like I did to determine the skein length of my old yarn, I hauled out the swift again, and re-wound several turns of my new stuff, taking care to adjust the swift until I could align my color patches.  I put a safety pin into the yarn at the end, and another into the yarn five turns (five full cycles) later, making sure that both pins marked matching spots in the cycle.  I now had five repeats marked out.  Starting with the point marked by my pin, I began to knit the loops off my provisional chain and continued until I cit the second safety pin.  Counting up, I had about 260 or so stitches on my circ before joining.  Or so?  Why the imprecision?  Am I ready to knit off happily watching the flash pattern grow?

Not exactly.  Tune in tomorrow to find out why, and what I did next.

Tracey asks if I plan on washing my Webs-acquired Highland Tweed before I work with it, or if I plan on washing the sweater after it has been knit. 

I think in this case, I'll wash my yarn first.  A couple of years ago, I knit something in a yarn that like the Highland Tweed was full of whatever they use to make machine spinning easier   It was a cone of some unidentified 100% wool I got at the old Classic Elite mill end store.  I swatched it up, got gauge, washed the square, re-gauged and knit up Flor's gansey pullover for my older daughter.  (Flor's pages are off-line, but the pattern can be found in the Internet Archive.) Then I washed the thing.  I was never quite pleased with the fit.  The yarn relaxed and fluffed out a bit, but looked "strangled" in the sweater.  Proportions shifted slightly in unexpected ways.  I'm sure if I had taken the time to wash the yarn first, then take a gauge on it rather than doing the lazy route, everything would have worked out better.

That being said - how to wash yarn?  It's easy.

I take my swift (or two chairs back to back in my pre-swift decade) and wind a fair bit off the cone.  Then I'll take some cotton string and loosely tie the newly made hank in two or three places.  I note that many hanks I buy are tied in a two or three "stitch" manner rather than in one big clump.  It looks like the person who did it took a length of tie string and looped it around the accumulated hank.  Then, he or she bunched up about a third of the hank's yarn and plunged one end of the tie string through the thing from top to bottom, and the other end through at the same spot, from bottom to top.  Then they grouped up the next third, and repeated the process.  The whole idea is to keep the yarn in an easy to unwind hank, but not tie it so tightly that the yarns rub up against each other and encourage fulling.



Once my hank is loosely tied, I'll wash it the same way I wash my finished items.  I'll fill my washing machine part way with cool water and add a wash agent.  Right now my favorite is Kookabura Wool Wash, but I've also used Eucalan in the washer.  If I were doing this OUT of the washer in a tub sink or bucket and had no wool wash to hand, I'd try a liquid dishwashing detergent or inexpensive shampoo.  Warning though, adding either dishwashing liquid or shampoo to a washing machine can mean a Lucy Moment as you deal with the resulting overflow of lather.  

With the washer's wash cycle off, but with the wash agent mixed well in the water, I submerge my hanked yarn in the tub and let it soak for a while.  I might swish it a bit very gently in the water to encourage the process but I don't turn the washer on, or otherwise squeeze, rub, or agitate the yarn mass.  Once the yarn has soaked for a bit (usually about a half hour, or until I remember I've put it in), I advance the washer dial to rinse.  I let the machine empty, then refill partway with the SAME temperature water in which I did the wash, but stop it before agitation begins.  I let the yarn sit a bit in the cleaner water (again with perhaps the most gentle of hand swishes), then advance the machine to final spin.  This time I let the water drain out and let the machine go through its final spin, to fling as much water out of the yarn as possible. 

After the wash I take my hanks and loop them around plastic hangers, then hang the hangers somewhere to dry.  Over the shower rod with a towel underneath is fine.  The trick is to find somewhere out of direct sun that's un-humid enough to encourage quick drying.  My basement in this case is right out, as it is too damp down there for quick drying.  On a very humid day I might direct a fan to blow at my drying hanks in order to speed the process.

Am I doing this right now?  Not yet.  I admit I've been sidetracked (the story of my knitting life).  I'm playing with the nifty cotton I described yesterday, messing with gauge measurements and stitch count, trying to establish my flash dimension.  It's a bit harder than before because although the yarn has the right dimension and color placement to flash, the color set doesn't have a wildly obvious marker like a screaming orange stripe.  A visually distinctive bit helps eyeball where the repeats should overlap.   More on this as I work the problem through...

I've gotten some questions via eMail about yesterday's yarn crawl.

How do you know what to buy?  Do you go with a list?

Some people do.  My pal Kathryn did.  She had a prepared list of patterns and requirements, and went looking for yarns specific to those needs.  I don't.  When I go to an "exotic" yarn shop I look for things that aren't available at my local yarn store.  Most of the stuff in the front retail store area at Webs is available in my own neighborhood.  (I am lucky enough to live in one of the most yarn-shop-dense areas in in the US.)  I went looking for back room bargains, off labels, mill ends, and other oddiments that I am leery of purchasing sight-unseen over the 'net.

In terms of what I was looking for, I do admit that experience with yarns is a plus.  I know a bit about different types of yarns and their properties.  Not as much as a spinner - but enough to know what yarns are likely to improve with washing, and which ones will remain prickly for their entire life.  I've got a rough grasp of what both yards per pound figures and the number system of yarn descriptors used for woolen and cotton yarns translate to in standard hand-knitters terms and gauge.  I've played with wraps per inch (though I admit I didn't use that measure this trip).  I've got a calculator and know how to convert pounds to grams, so I can figure out a rough equivalent cost per mythical 50-gram skein.  Plus I have a good idea of what colors appeal to me, look well on me (or my target),  have classic appeal, and would be fun to knit. 

So what I did was wander the back aisles in the walk in warehouse, looking for goodies on special.  The goodies had to be of excellent quality, in an appealing color that will transcend trends, of versatile type or construction (not a novelty yarn that will look dated in a fortnight), and represent a significant cost savings.  If any "spoke to me" (inspired a particular creative idea upon first sight) all the better.  But I was not buying for immediate consumption and went with no particular  projects in mind.

Have you ever bought "the wrong yarn"?

Yes and no.  I've got all sorts of things that have sat in my stash for extended periods of time, but I've never bought anything I wished I could return.  For example, right now I've got two bags of well-aged Classic Elite Artisan in a deep green somewhere between khaki and hunter.   At the time I bought it (circa '99) I had an idea that I'd use it for a cabled sweater.  But since then I've reconsidered.  It's a bulky weight (3.5spi) and has alpaca in it.  A cabled thing in it would end up being both weighty and ultra-warm.  Too warm to wear as an indoor/outdoor sweater.  Plus I've found I prefer knitting in smaller gauges.  So it sits, awaiting inspiration, but I wouldn't say it was a bad purchase or it was "the wrong yarn."  Eventually I'll figure out what to do with it, or I'll swap it for something else. 

How much did Webs pay you to post yesterday's ad?

Nobody pays me nothin'.  I go where I want, and I write what I want on String - bad or good.  Please send my greetings to the other conspiracy theorists whose company you must enjoy.

So what are those number system/yards per pound bits you mentioned?

(This wasn't actually asked, but I'm sure it will be if I don't address it here).  There are several very cogent explanations of the number system and how it's calculated elsewhere on the Web, but here's a quick cheat sheet of equivalents for wool.  Remember that although this chart makes it look like there are absolute definitions of size, these are approximate average numbers.  There is considerable overlap with the values shown above and below each category, dependent on all sorts of things including fiber blends, texture, or how tightly the stuff is twisted (how dense the yarn is).

Weight (ply weight descriptor equivalent)	Most Common Gauge	Approx. Average Yards/Pound (Wool)	Approx. Average Wraps/ Inch	Some Count Numbers* For This Weight (100% Wool)
Fingering (4-ply)	7 spi	1,920 wool	16	4/30, 2/15, 4/24
Sport (6-ply)	6 spi	1,500 wool	14	6/24, 2/16, 3/9, 3/11
DK (8-ply)	5.5 spi	1,400 wool	12-13	3/8,
Worsted (10 ply)	5 spi	1,280 wool	11-12	2/10, 10/24, 4/8
Aran (12 ply)	4.5 spi	850 wool	10-11	12/24, 2/4,
Bulky (14 ply)	3-4 spi	680 wool	9-10
Super Bulky (16 ply+)	3 spi or fewer	500 or fewer	8 or fewer	2/2

*In wool the first number refers to the number of plies (physical construction, not "ply weight equivalence"), in cotton, the second number refers to the number of physical plies

Please feel free to send me corrections and additions.  I'll be adding to this chart as time goes on, and possibly supplementing it with one for cotton when I get a chance.

The work crisis has not yet abated (in fact, it's just settling in for the long haul).  Even if I'm not writing about it, I AM knitting.  Plain, boring, unadventurous, run of the mill, miles of stockinette, unchallenging (but comforting) knitting.

In my case, that usually means socks, and reverting back to the sock style I can do in my sleep - toe up with a figure-8 cast on, and short-rowed heel.   I've been averaging completion of a pair every six days or so.  I only knit for an hour or so each evening, so each sock is taking me three evenings to complete.



At the left what we've got is a pair of fingering weight socks composed from various leftovers.  The vile mustard is a 100% wool yarn I've had forever.  The label still lists the distributor with a pre-zip code address format.  The tweedy green/blue is a partial ball of something (I know not what) I got in trade swapping leftovers with a friend, and the red is some Dale Baby Ull, left over from a sweater knit for the smaller daughter.  This is the pair I was referring to when I wrote that in January my color taste departs, and I feel compelled to mismatch in the most garish ways possible.  Perhaps it's a seasonal longing for light and color that happens just after the holidays, when the world returns to winter-drab.  In any case, the moire-like patterning of the red tweedy parts isn't a camera artifact, it actually exists.  For some reason the tweedy red bits worked themselves into swirls on the foot of one sock and the ankle of the other.  I think they moved in and out of synchronicity this way because in this multi-ply yarn (a true 4-ply four ply), each ply was carrying the same set of colors.  While the plies never aligned so that a blob of red hit across all four at the same time, it does appear that if two aligned **just right** I got my swirls.  An unexpected effect to be sure, and one I would have preferred either lasted for the entire duration of both socks, or didn't appear at all.  Still, the things are garish enough to begin with, so the red striping is just another element of eye offense.

In the center is half a pair of light worsted weight socks.  The other is still on the needles.  In this case I had a skein of Little Lola, a variegated yarn.  I've used it twice before to make Kombu scarves, but the colors for those were tamer.  This particular skein presented a problem.  The colors in it are less of a set, and more of a street fight, with fuschia, teal, olive, mustard and navy all scuffling for attention.  I had set the skein aside when I used its two brothers because I didn't know how exactly to use it.   When I was rummaging through my stash to fuel my holiday knitting I came across two skeins of a yarn I got in a discontinued inventory sale back in 1994 or so, at the late lamented Yarn Shop in College Park Maryland.  It's Classic Elite Paisley Light, a mix of wool and rayon, and matches the all superwash wool Little Lola exactly in gauge and structure.  In my case the Paisley Light also matched the fuschia in the Little Lola spot on.  By working the toes, heels, and ribbing in Paisley, plus alternating stripes of three rows of Paisley and six of Little Lola, I've managed to tone down the discord of the variegated skein a bit.  It's still a riot, but more of a quiet one.  (Review of Paisley Light coming soon to wiseNeedle).

Finally the pair on the right is standard issue Regia Mini Ringel.  Nothing special here whatsoever.  Due to my bad photography you can't even see the nifty way the stripes miter on the short-rowed heel.

One last bit of blather, the old fashioned way of doing stripes (actually using two skeins of yarn, alternating between them on some sort of fixed count) is a wonderful way to make socks match in length.  It's relatively easy to count four or six rows of color A, then some number of color B.  Then when time comes to make sure that the second sock is the same length as the first, all that need be done is count the stripes.  Much more accurate than eyeballing or measuring, and far less tedious than counting rows.  A final hint, sometimes counting even a small number of rows in stockinette can be difficult if you're using a dark color yarn, or one that's highly variegated.  Instead of counting on the front side, I take a needle tip and insert it into a column of purl bumps on the reverse side of my stockinette.  It's easy to count off my rows by counting the purl bumps.

One distinct advantage of cataloging my knitting life here - at year's end, I can look back over my posts and see how productive (or unproductive) I've been.  It doesn't look like I actually accomplished much this year in the way of actual knitting.  I certainly achieved conservation of un-finished projects, starting as many new ones as old projects that were brought to closure, although I did work on several major efforts.  In any case, here's a catalog of what I learned and did in 2005:

Projects finished

• Crazy Raglan.  Knit for the smaller daughter and started in 2004, this was an exercise in the use of DK weight self-striping yarn for something other than socks, scarves and hats.  I had several false starts on this one, ripping back when I didn't like the patterning that resulted.  I finally hit upon working the piece in several sections, joined Intarsia style.  This allowed the yarn to play better over narrower strips of width.  The project was a modified success, with most of the failure laid to the length of time it took me to get it done.  In the intervening months, target daughter grew, so the final product was a bit smaller on her than I intended.  Oh well.  I get to knit her another sweater now.
  

• Fingerless whatevers - (also see patterns, below).   A happy confluence of expedience and need, my hot color combo fingerless mitts made last winter bearable in my drafty house.  I can't say I learned much from this project besides the fact that not everyone sees the charm in garish, magpie color contrasts.  But it was fun to do, and resulted in a pattern for general consumption plus a rare item made for me.

• Paisley Shawl - I started with some lovely hand-dyed multicolor lace weight yarn and Sharon Miller's Birds Eye shawl pattern, but found out that the color variations in the yarn were too fierce and overwhelmed the delicate texture of that design  So I began experimenting and looking around for alternatives.  I found that the simpler the pattern and larger the plain stockinette (or garter) area, the better texture patterns coexist with color riot.  I ended up working a mostly-garter pattern from Spring '05 Interweave Knits.  It's an easy project, suitable for folk who are just embarking on lacy knitting.  My Paisley turned out quite nicely, and became a much-appreciated gift.

• Alcazar - The Hazel Carter pattern.  Fun to knit, but again a lesson learned.  This type of complex lace knitting needs special care if it's attempted in something other than wool.  Wool's stretch makes it optimal for the distortions required to span corners and block flat.  My Alcazar turned out beautifully, but the unstretchy nature of the faux-silk rayon made it difficult to work with, and limited the effectiveness of the corners, making them a bit more cupped than they would have been had I used wool.   Became a very much appreciated gift.

• Small grapevine in long armed cross stitch and double running.  Been sitting around forever.  I finally finished this one off and gave it as a gift (notice the theme, here?)  The next day's post goes into additional detail.

• Holiday knitting, including five scarves, seven pairs of socks, three hats, a pair of flip-top mittens, and a pair of fingerless mitts.  Nothing much exciting here (except for Kureopatora's Snake, see below).  All gifts...
  

Still in the bag

• Cursed Socks.  I can't say why this is still ongoing, but this pair of socks has sat on the sidelines for the past two years.  I could probably finish off the second sock in an evening or two.  I hang my head in disgrace.
• Dragon Skin Rogue Cardigan - Starting with the excellent Rogue pattern, I introduced some materials substitution, gauge, sizing and texture modifications.  All was going well until a mishap led to the front being pulled off the needles and a tangled mess.  Elder daughter looks at me with cow eyes every time she passes the knitting bag containing it.  My lesson learned here - take better care of projects in process, and don't let things languish just because I'm frustrated by the prospect of ripping back a mile, and figuring out where I left off.  More chagrin.
• North Truro Counterpane.  This one is going to take a very long time, even if I pursue it with dogged determination.  Still, I really like the way it's coming out.  I'm about 20% done (by eyeballed estimate), and will continue plugging along - probably as a perennial summer project.  The cotton motifs are perfect for knitting when it's too hot to knit anything else.  I'm not embarrassed about this one.
  
• One total disaster, actually abandoned - the Mystery Project - a felted bag commission undertaken for Classic Elite.  Try as I might, I could not get the entire thing to full evenly.  My bag ended up a misshapen lump, and the tight deadline I was working under didn't allow a second try.  Horror in a handbag - that's the only description I can think of that's near accurate.  Packed up in a box with the left-overs and mailed back in shame, so I can' t truly say it's still in the bag.

Reference articles

In spite of a dearth of personal knitting, I did write quite a few articles for String that I hope have been useful.  So that's something at least.

• Gauge 101
• Vintage yarn substitution suggestions - more are welcome.  If you've got additions for this chart, send them along.
• Lillehammer mythology - The famous sweater, with some musings on possible meanings on its various motifs
• Doing the central double increase - with illustrations
  
• One oversized circ and two-circ methods for knitting in the round
• Two items on two circs, knit side by side - also check out the notes from the following couple of days for more clarifications
  
• Make one left and make one right - two complementary invisible increases
• Some useful web tools
• Musings on Dutch Heels and inverted Dutch heels
• Cast on Round-Up I  and Cast on Round-Up II
• Knitting Needle Roundup, parts I, II, III, IV, V,  VI, and VII - describing many of the most commonly available straight and circular needles, their characteristics, actual diameters and lengths
• Shoe sizes, worldwide
• Winding a center pull ball by hand
• Charting 101, 102, 103, 104, 105 and 106  - a series detailing how to go about taking a prose pattern and turning it into a chart

Patterns

And some patterns. 

• Morgan's Paw Warmers - Pattern for super simple wristies/half-mittens knit in the flat from bulky yarn
  
• Susan's Impressionist Blues Lemonade - method description on making a stole with pockets
• Fingerless Whatevers - Fingering weight yarn half-mittens with a twisted stitch cuff and gusset thumb
• Ann Kreckel's Baby Booties - the pattern is provided as a link (it's Ann's not mine) but I do offer up a photo essay on how the thing is constructed
• Kureopatora's Snake - an entrelac style scarf done in ribbing in a wild yarn
• Kombu in German - a translation of my Kombu pattern from wiseNeedle, graciously provided by a German-speaking knitter

Books reviewed

And I posted reviews of a bunch of knitting books not often written about.  Mostly these are out of print books I got through my local library.  Insert shameless plug for local libraries.  Go.  Look.  Take books out.  If these older knitting books just sit on the shelves, the staff will be tempted to clear them out to make room for other stuff, and chances are the new books won't be about knitting.

• Reversible Two-Color Knitting
• Stitch by Stitch Volume I
• Bantam Step by Step Book of Needlecraft
• Mit Nadel und Faden
• Patchwork Knitting (the other one)
• Design Knitting
• Knitting Stitches and Patterns
• Knit to Fit
• For the Love of Knitting

Plus there have been all sorts of other posts here this year, blathering on about knitting, techniques, horrific mistakes I've made in my own projects, nifty things I've stumbled across, and the like.  Less however since my re-entry into full-time employment, as lengthy notes like this now take a couple of days to complete.  I'll soldier on into the New Year both blogging and knitting. I've already got two more pairs of socks I can rack up against my upcoming 2006 grand total.

I have to lead off with a disclaimer - I haven't tried this yet.  It's from TechTrax - a very useful third party support source for Microsoft applications.  Between them and WOPR, I have never failed to find a needed answer to a question about MS Word, Excel, Visio, Project and other MS-official torture devices I use in the course of writing proposals.  Most of the time in fact my answers are sitting ready to be found in the various discussion forums and articles on those sites.  (Instant expert help is always appreciated).

I know there are lots of people who use Excel or Word to set up knitting charts.  Some of them wish knitting fonts were more widely available or (more importantly) more intuitive, or more like symbol sets with which they're familiar.  Others have looked into building their own knitting symbol fonts.  That's a big task, and there are all sorts of tools to help.  It turns out that there is a hidden, free tool avaialble to MS Windows users - resident in operating system itself.  This tutorial takes you through using this character map editor to build custom symbols. 

The same site also recently published an article on creating custom graph paper in MS Word.

Other useful tools:

• Factor generator - useful for quickly figuring out possible repeats
• From the same site as the Factor Generator, a quick metric/imperial unit conversion utility
• And a grams/ounces coverter, too.

And so we see that knitting tools aren't always found in knitting-specific places.  If you've come across something useful in an unlikely location please feel free to add a comment here.  I can assure you that someone, somewhere will be very, very grateful.

?Thanks to everyone who left recommendations on inverting heel flap heels for toe-up socks. There probably are lots of "official" ways to do it. Leah mentioned one in Gibson-Roberts Ethnic Socks and Stockings. Kathryn says there's one in Church's Sensational Socks. Brigid sends us to the KnitSocks Blog. Emily says just to do a plain old flap heel, as written for cuff-downs, and Rob points out a totally different approach adapted from Rehfeldt's Toe Up Techniques for HandKnit Socks.

You know sometimes there's a reason to bow to the giants who have gone before. And sometimes for no reason other than personal perversity and the joy of fiddling with something on one's own, there's a reason to keep on plugging away despite all the world's advice to the contrary. I've been feeling contrary.

I worked my heel as described in yesterday's post. Here's the result:



I tried it on. It fit, but the sock ended up being too long. Plus I wasn't entirely satisfied with the location of the gusset. it was centered too low on the foot, with too much above. Fabric sort of lumped up on top of the ankle. So in this aspect at least taking a recommendation from Emily, I ripped my sock back to about a half-inch below the heel and reknit the thing on 50% of the total stitches. I ended up picking up 15 stitches on either side of my heel flap.



I like this better. I had thought that not having a heel cup (the turning the heel bit) that I'd end up with little wings at the corners of the heel flap. The sock unworn kind of looks that way, but when worn, everything fills out and no little corners protrude. Perhaps that's because my feet are so wide. This particular pair is a gift, so I'll have to knit another pair using this heel and give them a thorough wear testing. I am keeping this heel. (The color on this second photo is closer to Real Life.)

In any case, I'm now up to the ankle part and am about to place the knit/purl motif I've drafted up. It's a very simple geometric design based on some rectangles. Thinking on the way knit/purl patterning looks, I'll work the foreground in knits, and the background in purls. I'll either place it in a stripe of purl that goes completely around, or box the motif in a purl field. More on this tomorrow...

Here's the last item in the chart series. Thank you for all the kind words. I'm delighted that people are finding this useful.

I have gotten some questions about why I am not using the standard Japanese symbol set. That set is quite broad compared to most of the sets in Western books. My answer is that it's relatively unknown in the US and Europe. Perhaps I'll add a symbol glossary that equates its symbols to notations used by other more commonly available sources. That's a big project though, and might be better suited for wiseNeedle than for this blog.

Barbara Walker's Starlight Lace, Second Treasury of Knitting Patterns, p.288

I will use this last Walker pattern to show some more complications to charting life. This time, the pattern's stitch count varies in a couple of rows, plus there is a large number of edge stitches. My method is to graph out everything verbatim row to row, then (if needed) introduce no-stitch boxes for clarity. Again, all quotations from Walker are in bold. Here goes...

Multiple of 6 st plus 5
Row 1 (wrong side): and all other wrong-side rows - Purl.
Row 2: K2 *yo, ssk, k1, yo, ssk, k1-b; rep from *; end yo, ssk, k1.

The repeat is only 6 stitches, but I think I'll chart out three repeats plus edge stitches. That should give me enough room to see the play of the edge stitches, and the staggered effect of the offset design itself. Row 1 is plain old purl, but it's a wrong side row, so it graphs out as shown below, with the "1" on the left hand edge rather than the right hand edge. Remember, I'm just graphing verbatim at this point. I'm making no effort to read ahead. I just want to get the stitches down on my chart.


We've got 23 stitches [(6x3) + 5]. Note that the k1-b (knit one stitch through the back of the loop to twist it) has its own symbol. All wrong side rows in this pattern are plain - worked as purls if the thing is knit flat, and as knits if it's worked in the round.

Digression: Most modern texture patterns alternate rows with something happening on them (cable crossings, decreases, increases, etc.) with plain rows, and many pattern authors don't bother graphing the alternate rows if they're all plain. This can cause a bit of confusion. I got tripped up recently by Hazel Carter's Spider Queen shawl. It's a masterful bit of charting, but the first chart is stripped of those plain wrong-side rows. The later charts include them. I wasn't paying attention, and didn't notice that the numbering on that first chart labeled every row, but counted by twos. I ended up having to rip back a bit when I noticed that my piece didn't looklike the project photo. So be warned. Look at the numbering. If it begins with "1" on the left, and you're knitting flat you start off with a wrong-side row. If the "1" is on the right and you're knitting flat, you start off with a right-side row. If every other number is missing, you've got a pattern with the plain rows left out. Look elsewhere in the write-up to find out if those plain rows are to be knit or purled.

I'll skip writing up the plain rows, but I will include them in my growing graph:

Row 4: K3, *k2tog, yo, k1-b, yo, ssk, k1-b, rep from *; end k2


Again, no problems here. Everything graphs out nicely and stitch count is constant. There are equal numbers of stitches increased (the yos) and stitches decreased (the ssks and k2togs).

Sometimes if I'm having problems with a repeat, even if it's charted, I'll grab a piece of graph paper and draw out my stitches. Sometimes I catch an error in my knitting using my pencil that went totally unnoticed on my needles.

Row 6: k2, k2tog * yo, sl2-k1-p2sso, yo, sl1-k2tog-psso; rep from * end yo, sl2-k1-p2sso, yo ssk, k2.

This is where that "off to hell in a handbasket" feeling begins to creep in. We've got double decreases, both with the rightmost leg on top (sl1-k2tog-psso), and with the centermost stitch on top (sl2-k1-p2sso). We've also got a number of yarn overs, and just for fun - a couple of plain old decreases, and an unknown number of times to do the ** repeat between the k2, k2tog opening unit, and the end yo, sl2-k1-p2sso, yo, ssk, k2 closing unit.

To figure this out, we need to remember that we've got 23 base stitches on the previous row. That's 23 stitches to play with. All of the plain knits plus the stitches in the decreases on Row 6 must add up to 23. Let's look at the math:

• One ** repeat on this row adds up to six stitches (the two double decreases).
• The pre-** opening row unit is four stitches (k2 plus one k2tog)
• The after-** closing row unit is seven stitches (one double decrease plus one ssk and k2)

If you add up our fixed numbers (the pre- and post-** stitches) you get 11 stitches. The previous row contained 23, and we subtract those 11 from the total. We get 12, which (serendipity) is a multiple of our ** unit. We graph out the pre-* stitches (shown in blue) plus two repeats of the ** unit, followed by the post-** unit (also shown in blue.


We're out of that handbasket, even though our graph is showing a very short row. Not to worry. Going through and counting stitches confirms that we've got the correct number here. We'll worry about neatening everything up and inserting those no-stitch boxes after we get all the rows charted. So let's move on.

Row 8: K3, *k1-b, yo, k1, yo, k1-b, k1; rep from*, end k2.
This row is also problematic. How many times to repeat the stuff between the **s? Again , stitch count comes to our rescue. Evil Row 6 brought the stitch count down to 17. Row 7 (worked plain) preserved that count. Now on Row 8, there are increases, and "as-is" stitches but no decreases. There should be 17 stitches on this row EXCLUSIVE of the YOs. Again we do the math. We start with 17 stitches, then account for the three before the *, and the 2 after - that's 12 stitches left. NOT counting YOs, each between the ** repeat contains 4 stitches. We need to graph out three iterations of the stuff between the **s. Happily once we graph in these instructions (including the 6 YOs) that restores us to the original stitch count of 23.



Remember, we're not worrying about lining stitches up right now, our only concern is getting the correct number of them on the chart. We'll think about how to represent those low-count rows 6 and 7 later.

Row 10: K2, *yo, ssk, k1-b, yo, ssk,k1; rep from * end yo, ssk, k1
We're back to a stable stitch count, with the same number of increases and decreases per row. Graphing it up is easy. I notice something here though:



See those two blue units? They're identical. It looks like this pattern is formed by an exact duplicate of rows 1-6, offset by three stitches (one half of the repeat). While you can see it (sort of) in the prose directions, the duplication leaps out in the charted ones. I find this sort of half-drop duplication and charting makes the pattern really easy to memorize. More on this later, after we've charted some more rows.

Row 12: *K2tog, yo, k1-b, yo, ssk, k1-b; rep from *, end k2 tog, yo, k1-b, yo, ssk.
Again this looks veeerrrryyyy familiar! I've highlighted the repeat (in fact I just cut and pasted those boxes).



Row 14: K1, *yo, sl2-k1-p2sso, yo, sl1-k2tog-psso; rep from *, end yo, sl2-k1-p2sso, yo, k1.
Remember Evil Row 6, with all those double decreases? It's back! Offset three stitches, but otherwise the same. We start with 23 stitches on the previous row, then subtract the 1 before the **, and the 4 after the **, leaving 18 stitches - so we do the 6-stitch bit between the **s three times.



Row 16: K1, k1-b, *k1, yo, k1-b, k1, k1-b, yo; rep from * end k1, k1-b, k1.
Just like row 8, offset again by three stitches. Again we've got 17 stitches on the previous row to account for. Not counting the YOs, we've got 2 stitches before and 3 stitches after the ** accounted for, leaving 12 - so we do the 4-stitch ** unit three times. One you add in the YOs, we're back up to to the 23 stitches of our original count.



Now to add the finishing touches. It looks like each of the decrease units on Rows 6 and 14 visually caps off the clusters of decreases on the rows below. So I'll spread them out across the row, adding in my no-stitch boxes as best I can to maximize the read of the pattern compared to the photo of the worked swatch.

I'll also add in my stitch key, header and footer info at this point. Remember that there are NO increases or decreases on alternate rows. Therefore I don't need to include that second column of "if it's a right-side/wrong-side row" instructions that I had to include in yesterday's write-up.

One final note, there is one small bit of strangeness here. Because of the way that the repeat works out, and the way that edge stitches are handled, the last decrease on Row 6 is handled differently if it is the final stitch of an "inside repeat" or if it is the final stitch of the last repeat on the row. Since this isn't easy to graph, I've added a special note about it, and made it blue on the chart.



The memorization thing?? This pattern looks complicated at first glance. Especially if you just look at the prose directions. However it's not that tough. There are only four substantive rows - 2, 4, 6, and 8. The entire pattern repeat is only six stitches wide. Everything else is a repeat, either straight on the same row, or (in the case of rows 10-16) offset by three stitches (one half the width of the repeat). ? I can't remember the prose directions verbatim, but I can and do memorize the pattern in its visual representation. Not everyone can memorize a nonverbal visual representation (and it's no shame not to have that bit of wiring) but many people can, and have surprised themselves by being able to do so after becoming comfortable with charts.

This concludes my mini-series on graphing - how to read them, how to build them, and how to solve common problems translating prose directions to charts. Please feel free to post additional questions about graphing and reinterpreting prose instructions as charts, but please know I will not be offering a graphing service here. My goal is to show others how to do it for themselves, not do it for them.

One last tech note - the visual presentation of the charts changes mid-way through this note because I experienced a massive computer failure. I ended up finishing this post on a different machine using a different version of MS Visio. The later version has a slightly different GIF translator than the earlier version I normally use. So it's not your monitor - it's me. Apologies for the visual confusion.

So far the nominations for stitches to use as object lessons have been rather sparse. I've gotten suggestions to do:

• Porcupine Stitch from B. Walker's Second Treasury of Knitting Patterns, p. 282
• Drooping Elm Leaves from B. Walker's A Treasury of Knitting Patterns, p. 217

I've also gotten notes from people who said that given the hints posted over the past week they've been able to graph up

• Mermaid Mesh from Walker's Second Treasury, p. 267
• Madeira Cascade from Walker's A Treasury, p. 222

As the big boss at work would say, "Good on 'ya!"

These two patterns are not quite straightforward. Cascade has five stitches above and beyond the repeat that need to be apportioned into edge stitches. It does however have a very strong central spine - a double decrease that lines up on all right-side rows. Mesh is a bit harder in that it has both lots of edge stitches, plus a massive number of decreases and increases that use natural slant of the decreases to visually wander left and right. Certainly not a pattern for the faint-hearted to graph!

For the object lesson I'll do Porcupine and Walker's Starlight Lace (Second Treasury, p 288). Drooping Elm is interesting, but doesn't pose some of the conundrums that these two do. I'll start today with Porcupine. Starlight will appear later in the week.

Porcupine Stitch from B. Walker's Second Treasury of Knitting Patterns, p. 282

Porcupine has some interesting features. It's a 9 row repeat, in which only three rows are substantive. BUT those three rows are each repeated at least twice, and the same instructions are repeated on both the right and wrong side rows of the piece. There are also four stitches requested over the 12 stitch repeat count that will have to be accounted for in edge stitches, but they seem to always stay outside the ** repeat marks, so keeping track of them shouldn't be a problem.

Walker notes that this texture design is of Victorian origin. It does have a major feature that was much more common in early instructions than in later ones. Porcupine includes patterning on both right side and wrong side rows. You don't see this often as most modern? patterns confine increases, decreases or other shaping elements to right-side rows only. Flipping the instructions for decreases is far more confusing than just translating knits to purls and vice versa.

My write-up will intersperse the as Walker gives them with how that row ends up being graphed. The Walker quotations will be in bold.

Multiple of 12 stitches plus 4
Row 1: K2, *Yo, K2tog; rep from * to last 2 sts, end k2
Looking at the pattern, I suspect it will be a good idea to graph out two repeats of the pattern, that's 24+4 = 28 stitches across my chart. We start with a right-side row:


Row 2 and 4: K2, purl to last 2 st, end k2
Very easy. Remember this is a wrong side row, and that mental inversion thing should be invoked to "flip" knits to purls and vice versa.

Row 3: Knit
Because Row 4 is the same as Row 2, I'll graph up both 3 and 4 here.


Row 5 and 8: K2, *sl1-k2tog-psso, k4, yo, k1, yo, k4, re from *, end k2
Now it begins to get interesting. Still, stitch counts are maintained. How can I tell this? By looking at the part between the **s. It includes a double decrease that finishes with the rightmost stitch on top, plus two yos to compensate for the two stitches eaten by the double decrease. Warning though. It's not all that hard to visualize row 5, it's a right-side (odd numbered) row, but I can sense some hyperventilation among those who have noticed that this same sequence is repeated on a wrong-side (even numbered) row. We'll deal with that bit of chaos when we get there.

Row 6, 7 and 9: K2* p3tog, p4, yo, p1, yo, p4, rep from * end k2
We have now hit the twilight zone row - the one that will cause many people to give up graphing. But it's not impossible. Remember that mental flip thing? Flex your brain because we're now going to do some gymnastics.

On Row 6, we've been told to do a p3tog on a wrong side row. Now, a p3tog on a wrong side row, if viewed from the right side of the work is a dead ringer for a k3tog. How do I know this? The Sainted Barbara tells me so in the glossary of chart symbols in her Charted Knitting Designs (aka Walker III), and A Fourth Treasury of Knitting Patterns (aka Walker IV). Also I experimented. I'll use my symbol for k3tog, BUT I'll remember to build a double column glossary to accompany this pattern that describes what should be done when this symbol is encountered on both right-side and wrong-side rows.


Now on Row 7, we're told to do the same thing as on Row 6. But we're on a right-side row. A p3tog on a right side row is a p3tog on a right side row. I don't have a symbol in my set for a p3tog, so I'll have to make one up. Visually, in a P3tog done on an odd numbered row, the right hand most stitch of the three worked together ends up on top. I'll make a hybrid symbol that sort of reminds me that three stitches are being worked together, the right hand most one will end up on top, and that it's a purl. If it turns out that I like this symbol, I'll add it to my permanent stencil collection in Visio:


Row 5 and 8: K2, *sl1-k2tog-psso, k4, yo, k1, yo, k4, re from *, end k2
Row 8 is a repeat of Row 5, but it's done on a wrong-side as opposed to right-side row. Again referring to the Sainted Barbara, we see that a s1-k2tog-psso done on the right side has as its wrong-side counterpart the delightfully awkward p3tog through the back of the loop. Again - remember we don't actually have to DO a p3tog through the back of the loop here unless we are doing this pattern in the round, but the symbol we use on the chart is the same one that would be used for one of those awkward puppies worked on the right side. I don't happen to have a standard symbol for p3tog through the back of the loop, so I'll invent one.

Row 6, 7 and 9: K2* p3tog, p4, yo, p1, yo, p4, rep from * end k2
Row 9 is a duplicate of Row 7. We've already graphed that. So we now have the nine rows of our repeat. It's also become clear that stitch counts are rock-stable row to row, and that the four extra stitches here are just garter stitch selvedges there for convenience, and aren't required to eke out partial repeats of the pattern. I'll mark the four extras off in blue.

But we're not quite done even though all nine rows are graphed out.

We've got a repeat made up of an odd number of rows. That means that Row 1 repeats on Row 10. In fact, although rows 10-18 are the same as Rows 1-9, each one graphs up as its opposite-side sibling. (I can sense I've lost quite a few of you, so I'll show rows 10-13:

Row 10 duplicates the action of Row 1, but does it on a wrong-side row. Therefore, the stitches that graph up as K2togs in Row 1 use a different symbol in Row 11. Likewise the knits/purls of rows 11-13 show as their opposite.

Row 14 duplicates Row 5, but as a wrong-side row. We've already graphed that bit of twisted thinking on Row 8, so adding it isn't a problem. Row 15 replicates Row 6, again we already did that flip on Row 9, so a simple cut and paste takes care if it, too.

Row 16 duplicates Row 7, which has its wrong-side counterpart originally on Row 6. Row 17 is another Row 8 in its right-side expression (Row 5). Row 18 is another Row 9 flipped for the wrong side (Row 6). If you place all of them on the chart, add the stitch key, grids, titles, and attributions you end up with this:



Now this may seem a long way to go for a short drink of water compared to Walker's original write-up. In this case, the prose description is only five lines long, but the chart takes up half a page. There's no bonus for brevity awarded for the charted format. But there is one major advantage to having this described in a graph. This chart is equally useful to people knitting in the flat and people knitting in the round, because all the right/wrong side transformations have been done.

People knitting in the round experience every row as a right-side row. To knit this reversible pattern entirely in the round, they'd cast on an even number of the stitch multiple (without the four blue extra stitches) then they'd follow every row starting at the right hand edge of the graph, and using the key symbols as interpreted in the "On Right-Side Rows" column. People knitting in the flat would follow the chart in the manner I described before, starting the odd numbered rows at the right edge, and the even numbered rows at the left, alternately using the appropriate columns from the accompanying symbol key.

Have fun with this one. Try out Porcupine Stitch in a swatch. You'll find the lacy effect is magnified if a larger needle than one would usually use for a given yarn is used. Lacy or dense, the result will be rather puffy. Given the appropriate yarn it would make nice two-sided scarves, shawls, or blankets. Stay tuned for more adventures in charting!

In a perfect world there would be an intuitive set of graphing symbols that would be quick and easy to understand. They'd cover all possible maneuvers in knitting, and would be useful in every circumstance. This is however, a total pipe dream. Knitting is near infinite, and knitters are fiendishly clever in the variant ways they have found to produce their desired results. There are a number of knitting techniques and stitches that pose special problems to charting:

Large numbers of stitches increased or decreased at the same time

When you see instructions like "make 5 in next stitch" you'll need to invent a symbol to handle it. I've seen German and Japanese charts that use a variant on something like this:



Decreasing a large number into one stitch would generate need for something similar, perhaps with the V upside down, and the number of stitches to be eaten indicated between its open toes.

Also unless you're dealing with an edging, it will probably be impossible to graph up a pattern containing massive group increases or decreases without using the no-stitch boxes we discussed yesterday. Still, these problems fall into the "inconvenient but not insurmountable" camp.

Bobble and bell-shaped semi-detached units

Some bobble and bell units are produced by knitting back and forth over a small number of stitches, to make a blister-like addition that's attached to the main work at top and bottom. Most chart authors treat this type of unit as a separate sub-process. The main chart may have a single box with a specified symbol in it, indicating where the unit is to be placed. The unit itself will be described either in prose, or in a "mini-chart" accompanying the main chart as a sidebar. Another "inconvenient but not fatal" challenge.

Patterns containing stitches either slipped from or knit into the row below

These can pose real charting problems, especially in linen stitch family textures where large numbers of stitches are worked "out of row." I've seen large V-shapes superimposed on the graph that are supposed to represent these distended stitches, but they are visually difficult to deal with. If there are lots of them, the clutter can be overwhelming, and some linen stitch or slip-stitch based patterns may be impossible to graph at all.

It is interesting to note that B. Walker used a special charting notation for her slip-stitch based mosaic colorwork. In that format each row of the chart represented two rows of knitting instead of the more conventional one row worked = one row charted ratio. She didn't try to show stitch deformation by the use of a symbol set, instead she stuck to two-color mosaic patterns that swapped colors every two rows. The squares on her charts indicate whether one is to form the next stitch by working with the current strand, or slipping the color of the previous two-row set up onto the needle.

Threaded stitches or stitches with right-side floats, or decorative wraps spanning one or more stitches

There are some patterns that form colorwork or texture patterning by using separate strands that are threaded back and forth through live stitches during knitting. Other patterns use as decorative elements floats or wraps of one or more stitches, deliberately formed on the right side of the work. These are both very difficult to represent in charts. I'd probably go with some sort of notation in the main chart that Effect #1 happens here, and accompany the chart with a separate detail write-up.

Novelty stitches

Some popular novelty stitches are near impossible to chart. Loop Stitch is a good example. That's the stitch used to make a surface completely covered in shag-rug style loops. The manipulations required to make the loops don't lend themselves to graphing, and beyond noting which stitches carry the loops in a piece that uses both adorned and unadorned areas for contrast, indicating their presence is of little value.

In spite of these exceptions, if a pattern contains just knits, purls, cables, simple increases and decreases - even twisted stitches - it can probably be graphed. The graph may be massive, but it can be done.

I've got only one nomination for a particularly vexing pattern to use in tomorrow's object lesson. If you're got one to suggest, please send me an eMail (replace the "AT" in the address with the standard @ sign).

We've covered basic charting, and charting variable width edgings. Now for panels and insertions. Those are patterns that can be used as accents in the main body of your piece. Sometimes they show up as single strip scarves, sometimes several repeats of the design are combined across to make an all-over design (occasionally fitted together with half-drop variations), sometimes a single panel is repeated to make a long stripe in combo with a stockinette ground, sometimes just one vertical repeat of the design is used as a spot accent, sometimes panels of different patterns show up side by side. What makes them different from edging patterns is that they can be embedded in the center of a piece, and that piece can be knit in the round.

These insertion style patterns can have either stable or variable stitch counts from row to row. One with a stable count (either no increases/decreases or an equal number of increases to decreases on every row where they occur) are graphed more or less the same way as the pattern in Charting 101. The ones with changing stitch counts do pose special problems.

Let's consider this simple variable count insertion. It's my own write up of a simple embossed leaf inside a framing K2, P2 rib:

Cast on 9
Row 1 (wrong side): P2, K5, P2
Row 2: K2, P2, (K,P,K in one stitch), P1, K2
Row 3: P2, K2, P3, K2, P2
Row 4: K2, P2, (K1, YO)2x, K1, P2, K2
Row 5: P2, K2, P5, K2, P2
Row 6: K2, P2, K2, YO, K1, YO, K2, P2, K2
Row 7: P2, K2, P7, K2, P2
Row 8: K2, P2, K3, YO, K1, YO, K3, P2, K2
Row 9: P2, K2, P9, K2, P2
Row 10: K2, P2, SSK, K5, K2tog, P2, K2
Row 11: P2, K2, P7, K2, P2
Row 12: K2, P2, SSK, K3, K2tog, P2, K2
Row 13: P2, K2, P5, K2, P2
Row 14: K2, P2, SSK, K1, K2tog, P2, K2
Row 15: P2, K2, P3, K2, P2
Row 16: K2, P2, K3tog, P2, K2

As you can see, the thing starts out being nine stitches across, but grows on row 9 to 17 stitches across.

How to chart? The symbol set is pretty straightforward. Each individual row poses no problems. For example, here's row 8:



If we normed one edge like we did with the edging patterns, we'd end up with this:



While all the info is there and this chart could be worked from, it's deceptive in that it looks like an edging. Plus one of charting's prime directives - representing knitting in a format that's visually akin to the finished product - has been fouled.

So. Let's look closer at this pattern, looking for obvious points of internal symmetry or reference. We quickly see that the thing IS symmetrical. There's a center stitch in every row. Let's stack our rows on the center stitch:



That's closer. You can begin to see the leaf shape in the center, but the wiggly edges are still a bit confusing. Here's another cut at the same basic concept. This time however, I've lined up not only the center stitch, but also the knit ribs that frame it:



Those gray areas? They don't exist. Flat out aren't there. They're the equivalent of the stage attendants dressed in all black who move props around in full view of the audience during a drama or puppet performance. You're not supposed to see them, even though they're in plain sight.

The grayed out areas are spacing mechanisms introduced for the sake of visual clarity in the rest of the pattern. They have no correlation to stitches in the actual knitted piece. Working from this chart, I'd skip right over the gray background. My first row would be P2, K5, P2, just as in the written directions. Now different authors represent non-charted "no stitch" or null spaces differently. I chose to use a general background shading, with no boxes marking individual stitches. Other people don't bother removing the box notation from the no-stitch spaces. On their charts the no-stitch boxes can be a bit harder to interpret.

How to know when to use mystery no-stitch boxes? Although it's a matter of personal preference, sometimes they're absolutely necessary because there just isn't room to graph out your piece unless they're in the mix. I could graph out my embossed leaf without the no-stitch areas, but if this leaf was part of a larger graph covering a wider area, the distortion introduced by the width of the longest row might ripple out and perturb the representation of design elements to either side. In that case, using the no-stitch boxes would keep my two edges parallel and let the leaf panel sit more comfortably in the total project chart. That in turn would help the knitter keep his or her place on the wider graph.

Tomorrow I'll look at patterns that are extremely hard (if not impossible) to chart out. The final piece in this series I'll build one chart for a lacy or complex cabled design that has presented a special challenge. Nominations for the final object lesson will be accepted. Please contact me off-list before Thursday night if you know of a prose texture pattern you'd like to suggest for group edification.

I'm delighted that people found yesterday's post useful. The most asked question though was TexAnne's original one - what does one do when stitch counts change from row to row?

The guiding principle here is clarity of illustration. You want your chart to reflect as closely as possible the visual appearance of the finished knitting. That might mean that you handle the problem differently depending on the general situation. An edging for example might be graphed up differently than a panel insertion.

Let's start with the basics - some different types of increases and decreases. They are after all the Evil Agents that perturb stitch count across rows.

Increases come in two flavors - visible and invisible. A visible increase is something like a yarn over. It's an increase that leaves an intentional eyelet hole in the piece. Invisible increases come in all sorts of flavors - some more invisible than others. Often an invisible increase is called a make one. Some people favor raised bar style increases, others do the knit into a stitch of the row below, and others go for the less invisible knit/purl into the same stitch (or k1 front, k1 back into the same stitch). Which method of invisible increase is used is up to the knitter, although the designer may suggest one that works particularly well for the project in hand. In general though, the two types of increase have different notations in charting. I favor a boxed circle for a visible increase and a boxed M for an invisible increase. I even go so far as to slap a bar across the M if I want to specifically call for an invisible increase that forms a purl stitch. Here are the symbols I use for some of the more common increases and decreases:



Apologies for the size of the illustrations today. I'm having an argument with the picture upload facility, and this is the best resolution that I can get working this morning. Although my symbols were inspired by B. Walker's and L. Stanfeld's two, apparently I stuck to industry standard practice, doing whatever the heck I felt like doing and coming up with my own set.

Now. How do you use these?

Let's start with a simple edging. Edgings generally have one straight edge where they attach to the thing being trimmed, and one that's dagged, pointed, crenelated, scalloped, picoted or otherwise fancified in some way. The fancy bits (I'll call them all points for simplicity of reference), are formed by increases and decreases. In some the decreases come as partially bound off rows. Here's a good example. This one is the edging I used on my Kombu scarf:

Cast on 4
Row 1, 3, 5 (wrong side) Knit
Row 2: K1, YO, K1, YO, K2
Row 4: K2, YO, K2tog, YO, K2
Row 6: K3, YO, K2tog, YO, K2
Row 7: Bind off 4, K3 (4 stitches remain)
Repeat rows 2-7

First off - assume that all edgings knit side to side are knit in the flat. The 'wrong side' notation confirms this. Row 7 starts with binding off and is a wrong side row. That means that if you hold the piece with the RIGHT side facing you, the straight edge will be on your right, and the ziggy-zaggy one will be on your left. Row 1 is not repeated, and appears to be just a foundation row. Armed with this orientation info, we begin charting rows 1 and 2.



Row one is a wrong-side row, so even though the directions say "knit" the stitches are plotted as purls (that chart = right side view thing). On row two we've got two yarn overs. They increase the total stitch count by two. We know that this is an edging. We know that the jagged edge will be on the left when viewed from the right side. Therefore I have chosen to make the stitches line up along the right hand edge. Here's a proofing trick. There are no decreases in this row, therefore number of stitches in this row EXCLUSIVE of the yarn overs should be equal to the number of stitches in the row below. 4=4, we're o.k. Let's continue:



Row 4 contains two yarn overs, but the total stitch count is increased by only one block. That's because it also contains a K2tog (stitch count +2yos -1k2tog = stitch count +1, not +2.) Row 5 is just another all knit row. Proofing stitch counts vis a vis the previous row can be done by counting the number of plain knits, plus two for every K2tog or SSK decrease. In this case we've got 6=6. It works.

Row 6 and 7 get interesting. There is no uniformly acknowledged (or obvious) symbol for binding off, therefore charts that contain bound off stitches often use a text notation to indicate what's going on. Also remember if you bind off stitches you end up with one remaining loop on the needle:



Again Row 6 increases total stitch count by only one (two steps forward, one step back covers the YOs and the decrease). Row 7 includes the instruction to bind off four stitches, BUT there's a visual discrepancy between the chart and the written directions. The chart says BO4, K3. The chart shows four stitches. That's because one of those is the loop that remains after you've bound off the four stitches at the beginning of Row 7. You have that loop on the needle, then you knit the remaining three stitches, for a total of four stitches on the needle. I've also shaded out Row #1. Just like the edge stitches in yesterday's illustration, this indicates that Row 1 is not part of the regular repeat. It's a foundation row worked at the start of the edging strip, and not repeated thereafter.

As you can see, simple edgings are relatively easy bits of lace to graph. Stitch counts do vary from row to row, but because they have a stable edge, those extra stitches have someplace to go, visually. Having built this foundation of basic concepts, tomorrow we'll do a panel pattern that doesn't have the luxury of a free edge, and introduce The Stitch That Isn't There bugbear.

TexAnne eMailed a question that sends me off on a tangent. She'd like to know more about how to take a set of prose directions from a source like one of Barbara Walker's stitch treasuries and turn them into a chart. In specific, she'd like to know about how to handle things like double yarn overs, and stitch counts that vary from row to row. These are excellent questions. Since not everyone can leap right in at the graphing lace level, I'll start with simple charting and work up to the harder bits later in the week.

To start, transforming prose to charted directions is easier than some people think. Tools include some sort of mechanism on which to do the chart. I ping-pong back and forth between good old pencil and paper, and Microsoft Visio. Visio is an expensive Windows drafting/drawing program that I have on hand, mostly because I use it when I work as a consultant. There are other solutions out there, ranging from forcing spreadsheets to handle the function, to dedicated knitting programs. But don't despair if you have access to no computerized tool for charting. Plain old 1/4 inch quadrille paper (the Junior High School geometry teacher's friend), a friendly pencil and forgiving eraser work just fine. Principles of conversion remain the same regardless of tool used.

Let's start out with some basics. Charts are read from the bottom up. In most cases (but by no means always) there is a one to one correspondence between a stitch in the work and a box on the graph.

Charts represent the work as seen from the public or right side. As such, if you're working flat, you need to remember that the same symbol that represented a knit stitch on your right side row will represent a purl stitch on your wrong side row. (If you're unsure of this basic binary truth, go grab something with both knits and purls on the same row, like a swatch in ribbing, and use a pin to poke through a single stitch, then identify it on both sides of the work).

Two more basic truths of charts:

1. Almost every author or chart source has a unique symbol set. Some are similar, but none are absolutely identical.
2. Not everything can be completely charted

Oh, chart purists will argue about #2, but there ARE some patterns that just don't lend themselves well to charted expression.

Let's start with an easy one. Here's a recipe for a simple basket rib done in all knits and purls. Stitch counts remain constant from row to row. The source is Barbara Walker's Treasury of Knitting Patterns, Scribners, 1968;? page 17 (see footnote below).

Multiple of 4 stitches + 1
Row 1: (right side) K1 , *p1, k1; rep from *
Row 2: K2, *p1, k3; rep from *, end p1, k2.
Row 3: P2, *k1, p3; rep from *, end k1, p2
Row 4: P1, *k1, p1: rep from *
Row 5: K1, *p3, k1; rep from *
Row 6: P1, *k3, p1; rep from *

Now to chart this out, we examine the instructions. It's pretty clear that there will be an edge stitch. The "Multiple of 4 stitches + 1" says so. So let's start with Row 1. The stitches will read exactly as written, in the direction of the work. That means that the first stitch will be at the right hand edge of our chart. Since the directions call for a multiple of 4, +1, let's start off with an auspicious 13 stitches - that's three repeats. plus that one spare:



All well and good. In my twisted logic, a blank square is a knit, a square with a dash in it is a purl. Not everyone uses this notation. Some people use a square with a vertical line in it to represent a knit, and a horizontal to show a purl. Some people use a dot to indicate a purl. There's never been any international standardization of knit symbols, so use what's comfortable to you.

If you follow the charts that I've put up here and on wiseNeedle, you'll notice that I like to keep tabs of how many stitches are across my row by using a red rule every five stitches. When I chart out a big pattern, I set up a large red grid first and then populate it, but here I'll add in the red lines and row numbers as I need them. Again, this is a matter of personal preference. Set your rules 4, 5, or 10 stitches apart, or don't use any at all. It's up to you.

Now to add Row #2. The original prose instructions were written for someone knitting in the flat. In general unless you have absolute evidence to the contrary from any accompanying text, assume that prose instructions are written in the flat. This means that WHEN SEEN FROM THE FRONT OF THE WORK, the second row will commence at the left hand edge of the graph. A clue on this pattern is the notation "(Right side)". In a piece knit in the round EVERY row is a right side row, so this piece must have a wrong side row - hence it is knit in the flat. Yes I know this is confusing, because you always work in the same direction, but remember that if you were knitting in the flat, you'd have flipped the work over to go back.



Aha! A second complication! The prose instructions start off with K2, p1, but the chart shows p2, k1! Don't panic. Remember, we're on the second row - a wrong side (aka purl side or inside) row. The "2" is at the left edge to remind us of that fact. Those first two wrong-side knit stitches WHEN SEEN FROM THE FRONT are purls. That's the way they are graphed. If your head is starting to hurt, just contemplate that while this is a mind-stretching exercise, mental gymnastics like this have been shown to delay brain aging.

Adding Row #3 makes which stitches compose the 4-stitch repeat more clear:


In adding Row #4, I've moved to a more conventional method of shading. Most charts that show edge stitches do so by shading them. Here it's clear that there are three repeats, plus one column of edge stitches (to be fair, I could designate either the first or last column as my edge, as in this simple pattern with a one-stitch edge, it doesn't matter which column serves that purpose.)



In prose it's not immediately evident where the actual repeat falls, and what parts of the directions cover the non-repeating edge stitches. This is one reason why I prefer working from charts.

Since we've covered the basics, I'll quickly add the last two rows. Graphed out, not only do we see where the repeats are, we also see that a basketweave pattern is formed by a half-drop. Rows 1-3 and 4-6 contain the same basic unit, but in rows 4-6 it's advanced by two stitches. I've marked the same basic unit in yellow on rows 1-3, and in orange on rows 4-6.



The simple nature of this repeat and the symmetry that builds it into a basket weave pattern are difficult to discern by just reading the prose instructions, but in a chart, the logic stands out.

Now, knitters working both in the round and in the flat can use this same chart. People knitting in the flat would cast on a multiple of 4 stitches plus 1. Then they would start at the bottom right corner and work across Row 1, then they'd flip the work over and start the next row at the "2" - taking care to do the mental flip; and so on. People knitting in the round would cast on an even multiple of 4 stitches, and starting AFTER the blue edge stitch, would work across Row 1 as many times as needed - skipping the blue stitches, eventually returning to the point where their round commences. They'd then start to work Row 2, again working from the chart's right hand edge and skipping the blue edge stitch whenever it was encountered.

So you see - translating a pattern into a chart isn't that tough. This particular texture is an easy one. It's all knits and purls, with no increases or decreases. There are no variant stitch counts. Every row has the same number of stitches. There are no slipped or dropped stitches, no wraps or other bits of oddness.

In Charting 102, we'll look at the mystery that is The Stitch That Isn't There. I'll go over patterns with increases and decreases, and what happens when the stitch count changes. TexAnne, I hope this helps.


* My quotation of B. Walker's directions, verbatim. Normally I don't do this. If I use a pattern that's in a stitch treasury, I try to alter it a bit. I start at a different place in the repeat, center the repeat differently, chart it where it was in prose before, or rechart it starting at a different point. I do this because while no one person owns copyright on a knitting texture pattern, they do own copyright on the way they have expressed that pattern. This is analogous to recipes. No one owns the concept of "apple pie," but thousands of authors each own their individual description of what goes into one, and how to make it.

In this case however, quoting Walker verbatim falls within the bounds of fair use. I've given the citation, crediting the original author. The quotation is there because the premise of this piece is how to take a standard set of well-known prose instructions and turn it into a chart.

Some random questions popped into my inbox this week. I try to answer:

You said you knit a lot of socks, and the colorful bits on the booties are leftovers. Leftovers from what? What are your favorite sock yarns?

I like the Euro-style classic finish hard twist wool/nylon blend sock yarns best (I don't care for either wearing or knitting cotton socks). My short list includes Socka/Fortissima, Regia, Meilenweit, and the like. I'm slightly less fond of Reynold's sock yarns, finding them a bit coarser than I like. I knit with Opal once, the yarn's texture was nice and the colors were interesting, but not so much that I'd pay a premium to find more. I've also tried Kroy 4 ply (aka Kroy Sock), Special Blauband, and Brown Sheep Wildfoote. I'm not as fond of those. Brown Sheep is too thin, splitty and flabby. Special Blauband is also thin compared to my usual (their Blauband Ringel yarns though are more comparable to the Socka type). Kroy is a bit less densely spun than the Euro yarns, but it's economical and is stocked in solid colors. Once it was difficult to find multicolor sock yarn, now it's tough to find solids. I use solids for contrast, so I was very happy to find Kroy.

I've also tried some of the higher priced yarns, like Koigu and Lorna's Laces. In truth, though the Koigu colors were fantastic, I was less pleased with its performance in a sock than most. I found it too thick to make socks I can wear in most of my shoes, plus even under careful hand-wash, I found it fuzzed and lost that surface sheen that makes the colors pop. The socks are wearing well, but they've lost that special something that the yarn had in the skein. I'd use Koigu again in a heartbeat - but not for socks. The Lorna's Laces yarn was a bit loftier than my usual hard twist stuff, but worked up nicely. It's wearing quite well.

I've also tried a salad of other sock yarns - Alpine, Marathon, Happy Strumpf, Trekking - whatever wandered into my local yarn store that looked interesting. While all made suitable socks, none stood out as things I'd want to seek out for repeat use. Alpine was a Euro style yarn - good texture, boring colors; the others were heavier than I prefer.

I haven't tried the less expensive sock yarns from KnitPicks or Elann. I tend not to buy yarn via the Web if I can get the equivalent locally, and I live in a very sock yarn rich region. (Actually touching yarn before I buy it is a requirement.)

The links above just go to one representative of larger, similarly named sock lines. If you need more info on sock yarns, try wiseNeedle. Go to the search page and look up a sock yarn by name, or select "sock" from the drop down list of yarn types. About 135 are currently listed - 85% with at least one review. You can also find a chart showing some repeat lengths of common sock yarn self stripers here.

Still working on the scarf?



I like it better when you write about little stuff. The big projects are boring. What little stuff are you planning?

Unfortunately, I don't plan my knitting to fuel this blog. I knit wherever I want to wander, and the blog gets pulled along behind. That being said, I have to finish this latest crop of booties plus the Harvey Kombu, then rescue Elder Daughter's Rogue before returning to my large blanket. Plus the holidays are coming. I've promised a ton of socks, plus there are some other special gifts that I really should make. You'll see quite a few quickies over the coming two months, I guarantee.

Late breaking addition:? Ooooh. Mittens!? Haven't done full patterend mittens yet. Thank you , Wendy!

There must be something in the water (please excuse me for not drinking).

I find myself knitting booties for a flood of the newly expecting. So many in fact that over the past two weeks, for the sake of fun I've taken to playing with ankle part after the eyelet holes for the drawstring style bow.



This bootie is a combo of Dale Baby Ull and tiny leftovers from three candy color different self-striping sock yarns. Like I wrote before, just a yard is enough to do a stripe, so I save every scrap.

You could argue that my petaled bootie isn't entirely successful, that the top round of contrasting welting should be deeper, and that I should have worked a round in white before launching into the crown-like points at the top. But hey - these booties are the knitting equivalent of potato chips - quick snacks tossed off in between more substantial meals. However they are excellent for playing with some basic concepts before risking those ideas on a larger piece.

In this case, I looked at the thing (shown above before the bow tie is inserted), and thought that I'd like a pointy finish. I didn't want it elaborate or deep, and was too lazy to haul myself over to my bookshelf and dig through my collection of stitch pattern books. It being a no-brain night, I decided to improvise on the fly and do a no-brain edging knit onto the live stitches of my bootie ankle to eliminate seaming (a pain on something so small.)

These booties finish out with 40 stitches - 10 on each of four needles. 40 is a good number, it's an even multiple of 4 or 5, so an edging worked on 40 live stitches can have a 4 or 5 stitch repeat. For no reason whatsoever, I picked 5.

I cast two stitches onto a DPN, and knit one, then did a yarn over and worked the second together with the first stitch of my bootie ankle using a SSK. On the second bootie-out and all subsequent bootie-out rows, I flipped the thing over and knit back to the outer edge. On the next and edge-in subsequent rows, I knit until just before the last stitch, finishing out the row with a YO, SSK incorporating one stitch from the bootie ankle. After I'd "eaten" up four stitches of the bootie ankle and was ready for the fifth edge in row, I bound off until I had one stitch on the right hand needle and one stitch on the left. This last stitch I worked together with the fifth bootie ankle stitch. Voila!? A very simple 10-row petal edging custom-matched to the stitch count of the piece being trimmed. I did seven more points (eight in all - two per bootie ankle needle) and grafted the last two stitches to the cast on row. Bootie done, and neither seaming nor casting off was required.

Neither knitting an edging onto live stitches nor creating a very simple edging in this manner are new ideas, but both evoke a bit of "How did you do that" when seen outside of lace knitting circles.

I would improve this a bit were I to do it again. Instead of each point "eating" five ankle stitches and taking 10 rows to complete, I'd cheat a bit. I'd do an 8-row repeat, working my bind off on the fourth edge in row instead of the fifth, BUT instead of working a SSK with one edging stitch and one bootie stitch to conclude the bind-off row, I'd work a SSSK, fusing together one edging stitch and TWO bootie ankle stitches. In effect, I'd be working an 8-row repeat attached to five ankle stitches. This will draw in just a bit and counter the tendency for the edging to stretch the live stitches, and be wider than the tube of the item it completes. Most lace projects that? are ended off with an edging knit perpendicular to the body and don't exploit this natural tendency to ruffle do vary the stitch attachment count in a ratio closer to 3:2 than 1:1.

So, the next time you do a top-down hat, a tubular iPod case, or even a toe-up sock, think of finishing it off with a bunch of slightly silly, fluttery petals instead of the standard bind-off row. Or if you feel really ambitious - thumb through the lace edging section of your stitch dictionary, pick one with an appropriate row count and try it out out to put a crowning touch on your piece.

I'm still sweeping out mental cobwebs, occupying my fingers with interim quickie projects. Saturday's was another pair of booties, in the bootie pattern I've blogged about before:



This pair is in lime green Dale Baby Ull, and the leftover of some tweed sock yarn long since separated from its label of origin. It just takes a couple of yards to do one of the purl welts. I've worked them in contrast (as shown here), even working each welt in a different color yarn. Sometimes I do the ties in the same color as the contrast, sometimes not. It all depends on how much I've got. This is why I never throw away sock yarn leftovers. The smallest bit is enough to accent a pair of these booties.

I'm still repacking my stash after our near escape from a basement flood. In doing so I'm running across all sorts of goodies I had forgotten about. In the same box as my Kureopatora leftovers, I found about seven or eight balls of Harvey. Lang Harvey was a wool blend salad with a boucl? finish - 40% wool, 32% acrylic, 15% polyamide nylon, 10% alpaca, and 3% viscose. I'm pretty sure I scavenged it from a bargain bin at a (long gone) yarn shop I used to frequent in College Park, Maryland. And I'm also pretty sure that I bought it circa 1990 or so. Possibly earlier, so the chance of anyone finding more outside their own stash is slim to none. The original intent was to make a vest, but although I liked the yarn I didn't like the way it worked with my chosen pattern, so I stashed it.

What's boucl? you ask? It's a style of yarn that has fallen out of favor. You don't see that many of them around any more, the textured yarn niche having been consumed entirely by the fluttery fur monster.

Boucl?s have an airy hand. If you think of classic finish multi-strand yarns (like Cascade 220) as dense cream cheese, boucl?s would be the whipped variety. Unlike chenille where the fluffiness is made by little strands that are bound by some kind of "keeper thread," boucl?s have no fuzz to come unbound. The yarn's structure is of one or more two-ply strands. One ply is relatively taught, usually a very fine nylon thread. The other ply is looser spun, almost slubby, and is under far less tension. The looser strand is sort of gathered and lumped around the nylon base thread, resulting in something that has more loft and that has higher yardage per unit weight.

Here's Harvey:



Harvey has two two-ply strands. You can see how nubbly and slubby it looks. While it reminds me in color and visual appearance of the iron-upholstered sofa in my grandmother's apartment (the one that would sand your thighs off if you sat on it while wearing a skirt in the summer), it is in fact an exceptionally luxurious feeling, soft and easy to wear yarn.

Some boucl?s are even more fluffy or bumpy than this. Some have a loopy construction (I'm not sure at what exact point something stops being a boucl? and becomes - for example - a mohair loop, but I'm sure one of the spinning folk who read here will enlighten us.)?? My Harvey is marked at worsted gauge (20 st x 34 rows = 4 inches or 10cm) . It's about 126 meters or about 138 yards. A classic worsted like Cascade 220 is about 110 yards for 50 grams. Even taking the fiber salad composition of Harvey into consideration, 28 yards in 50 grams is a major difference in yardage.

Now. How does Harvey knit up??

The first time I tried it out I was disappointed, but I had picked a pattern for which it wasn't suited at all. I tried it out using a knit/purl texture pattern that was totally eaten by the yarn's texture and dark color. While it isn't optimal for showing detail on something like my Kombu, I thought it might be fun to try out in that pattern:



Again, the ribbed detail is partially obscured, although it shows up better in person than it does in a photo. But the softness and drape can't be topped. I'll be finishing out my Harvey Kombu and stowing it for the upcoming gift season. I'll probably have enough to do a matching hat, too.

Oh, and for an exceptional Kombu that really shows off the pattern's texture better than my own attempts at both knitting and photography (and not to mention her superior execution of the idea) check out Kerstin's Strickforum. Beautiful!

Yesterday during the attack of Life that kept me from blogging, I did find a minute to answer a question about winding balls from hanks. I tried my best to describe how to do it, but was very frustrated not to be able to show how. So this morning The Small Child and I dug out some scrap yarn and took some pictures.

Start by spreading out the fingers of your left hand (right hand if you're a lefty). Stash the free end (as opposed to the end attached to your hank) between your index and middle finger.



Wind the yarn in a figure 8 around your thumb and little finger until you've got a hefty butterfly going.

Once it's too big to wind this way, take it off your fingers and fold it in half. Note that I've still got the free end between my fingers. The end that I'm winding is hanging down in front.

Now hold the folded butterfly in your left hand, with your finger sort of encapsulating the thing. (When I teach kids to do this, I have them think about holding a baby bird in a sugar cage.) Winding your yarn around your fingers, begin to build up a ball. Wind a bit in one direction, then shift your grip and wind in another.



The goal is to make a very soft, squishy ball so that the yarn isn't flattened or stretched out. When my fingers are full (like in the photo above), I pull my fingers out, rotate the ball in my left hand and start winding again in a different direction.



Eventually the ball will outgrow your grip size and you won't be able to fit it between your fingers as you wind. Don't worry. Continue to wind LOOSELY until you're through, preferably over at least one finger to introduce extra "give" into the wind so the yarn isn't stressed. If you want to use the thing as a center pull, avoid capturing the free end as you wind. (It's just above my thumb in the photo above). Keep going until you've finished.



The end product. A nice fluffy ball. You can see the center pull end trailing off past my thumb, and the outside end trailing off the bottom.

Even though I have a ball winding machine, I wind more than half of the yarn I use this way, mounting the hanks on my swift, but making the balls by hand. The biggest exception is lace weight yarn. Anything that comes in hanks of more than 700 yards is going to take an eon and a half to wind by hand. That's worth hauling out the winder and wrestling it into submission.

After Friday's post on using Microsoft Visio for graphing knitting patterns I received some questions:

What's Visio?

Microsoft Visio is a professional level drafting/drawing program - something I've co-opted into serving as a pattern development tool, not something that was designed for that purpose. It's main use is technical and scientific illustration - Gantt charts, flow process models, flowcharts, conceptual diagrams, infrastructure diagrams, business graphics, organization charts and the like. For example, network planners use it to lay out routing diagrams for offices, as it not only can handle a dimensioned architectural drawing, but it can also keep count of the networking hardware placed on the drawing, producing a "need to buy" list as the plan progresses.

In my work life, I'm a proposal writer working in engineering and telecommunications companies. I use Visio extensively to do? technical illustration and project planning. Visio isn't the sort of thing that most people have lying around the house, but because I have worked as a consultant I have had to buy my own copy. I use Visio Pro. Visio Standard (the entry level version without some of the industry-specific bells and whistles) is about $200.

http://office.microsoft.com/en-us/FX010857981033.aspx

What's a stencil?? Can I use these with other programs?

One feature of Visio (both versions) is the ability to establish a collection of standard shapes, and call that collection up when needed. These collections are called stencils. I created a set of stencils for Visio that contain knitting stitch and graphing symbols. I attach the stencil to the active drawing, and then using all of Visio's drafting features - draw up my chart.

Visio stencils are unique to that program, and cannot be used with others. There may be (emphasis on uncertainty here) one other program that can import them, but I do not own that program and have not tried it. It's called SmartDraw, and the suite edition that includes templates sells for just under $300. It purports to import Visio output, but there's nothing there that says it takes the stencils directly. I suspect that you'd need to take the sample Visio drawing I include in my template set, then use it to create a new SmartDraw symbol library. As far as lower cost/hobbyist targeted programs with the same functionality - I don't know of any that import Visio stencils. Please chime in if you do.

Can you do everything in Visio that dedicated programs like Aran Paint or Stitch and Motif Maker do?

No. I'm NOT using a program that knows the slightest thing about knitting, or that is optimized for this sort of thing. There are no limits that keep me from using impossible combos of stitches, and no tools that let me do things like replace all the red stitches with pink stitches everywhere in the active document. There's no blank canvas that can be flood filled by a background stitch. Instead I have to build my diagrams stitch by stitch, adding my stitchs (or groups of stitches) like a kid laying out a doll's dance floor of alphabet blocks.

What I do have is an unlimited size and shape canvas on which to work; and the ability to group, layer, copy/paste, rotate and reflect my custom symbols as needed. If I'm doing colorwork, I have an infinitude of possibilities, and even do color matching by Pantone or other color codification system. I can make up custom symbols on the fly, adding to my library as I go along and am not limited to the symbols present in a knitting font package (in fact, I don't even bother with one). I can also export my designs to all standard web graphics formats, or paste them into other documents as desired.

Is Visio easy to use?

While large parts of the thing would be intuitive to anyone familiar with other drawing programs, Visio isn't the easiest program to learn if you've never used any drafting program before. There are lots of inexpensive training courses out there, some web-based, and some at local community colleges. Or if you're adventurous you can do what I did - just start monkeying around with the thing.

Can I do the same thing with other drawing programs?

I'm pretty sure you can, although not every drawing program works in exactly the same way. ? In ages past, I co-opted Aldus Superpaint (on my late lamented Mac) for doing stitching and knitting diagrams. That one was a hybrid drawing/drafting program. I set up a series of ground textures that corresponded to filled and unfilled grid squares (some with specific symbols in them). Then I created a paintbrush the same size as one grid square. By selecting the background fills and using the paint brush as a stamper, I "daubed out" my charts. This is how I did all of the charted illustrations in The New Carolingian Modelbook.?

I also have convinced Canvas to serve as a knitting/stitching design aide, but that was a bit more painful. The version of Canvas I used did not have a robust stencil capability. You could make libraries of symbols, but they weren't as accessible as in Visio. I ended up making one document with reference copies of my symbols. Then in a new document I established a snap-to grid equal to the size of a stitch square, and copied/pasted the symbols from my library document into my new design. It worked, but it was cumbersome.

I also know that some people use non-drawing programs for this purpose. Others have written quite extensively about creative adaptation of Microsoft Excel and other spreadsheets (and even MS Word) as stitch chart creation programs.

If you've smacked another drawing program around for this purpose and have some hints to share with others please feel free to add your comments to this pile.

I've blogged about using Microsoft Visio to do my charts here before. At great length.

In short, I've devised a set of stencils (shape templates) that covers many of knitting's basic stitches. I assemble them like a wall of alphabet blocks to make my charts, and have used them to build all the knitting and embroidery pattern graphs here and at wiseNeedle.



That ever insistent inbox of mine has disgorged a couple of requests for my Visio templates, so I've decided to post them here, free for the taking. Eventually I'll remove them from this blog and file them up on wiseNeedle where they will enjoy a more permanent home.

To use these templates you'll need a full registered copy of Microsoft Visio 2000 or later (up to and including the latest Office 2003 edition) - any flavor, for Windows. Sad to say Visio is not a inexpensive tidbit of a program one can pick up on a whim. It's a major tool used in offices and schools, mostly for engineering and other planning type drafting, and is priced accordingly. Still, I am sure there's a subset of technoknitter nerds who like me use the thing in home businesses, or who have access to it during lunch hours at work or as a student in a media center.

I might have tweaked the symbols a bit since I last updated this set, but nothing major has happened to them. I include three templates - one for basic symbols, one with cable crossings, and one with an extended set of increases and decreases, all bundled into this handy compressed *.zip file. Download it, then copy the *.vss files into the Visio template space on your local hard drive (probably the same place as the folder entitled "Visio Extras"). If you do that you should be able to access them off the standard Visio stencil menu.

Yes, I know that there are whole companies that do nothing but sell Visio template solutions, and here I am giving one away. It's "teachware." If you use it, teach someone else how to do something (especially something knit, stitch or fiber related), and I'll consider myself well paid. You may use my templates to create original knitting and stitching charts of your own. A credit for the tool would be nice if you publish any of the resulting charts, so that others can find it and use it too. You may not however repost these templates on another site nor may you claim them as your own. (If you do, major demons of vile vengance will haunt your dreams forever, should your kneecaps escape me and my trusty stick.) Linking back here is fine and dandy.

When you try out these templates you'll find that the symbols are not use constrained. You can stack the stitches any way you want, there's no effort on the part of the template to limit use to "knitting legal" configurations. But I did include a minor bit of shiny with the template symbols themselves. For most of them (except for some of the really esoteric cable crossings) hovering your cursor over the symbol in the template stencil window will pop up a how to knit annotation for both right side and wrong side application.

If you do play with these, please let me know. Suggestions for additions, improvements, or other use case advice are most welcome.

Several people have asked about the blocking board Laura used for her Paisley. I've sent the question to her, and will post any reply.

In the mean time, here's another suggestion. When I'm not being lazy slinging things down willy-nilly on towels, I do follow a bit more of a method. First, I clear out furniture in the room with our largest area rug (I've got no wall to wall carpeting). Then I lay down a heavy cotton quilt type blanket to protect the carpet from any moisture, and to give me more depth into which I can pin. Finally I cover the blanket with a rally check patterned sheet, one of two I stumbled across in a discount store. Once all is smooth and ready, I pin out my item, using long rust-free pins:




The item above is my Spider Queen shawl. It stretched out to be about 7 feet across. I began with a rough estimate of how large my finished item should end up being, then I started at the center points of each edge. I pinned them first, working from side to opposite side and tensioning the piece across between counterpoised pins. Then I stretched out the corners and did them, too. After that I just zipped back and forth across the piece ping-pong style, pinning in the middle of each remaining unpinned length until I had placed a pin in each of the edging's points:



About the only caution I offer (beyond being prepared for the labor intensiveness of this effort) is that the cheap Dritz pins I used were long enough and rust-free enough, but they were too thin and too fragile. They bent going in and the little bead heads pulled off when I pulled the pins out. Not fun.

I know that rally check print sheets are not an every day item, but any even check or Tattersall or windowpane style plaid will work equally well. So would yard goods in gingham or similar "graph paper" type patterns.

My friend Kathryn gently chides me about blocking my Kinzel Rose of England, languishing in my Chest of Knitting Horrors? since 1991. While the method above would work for that piece it's not on my current schedule. ROE was the first bit of lace knitting I ever attempted. It's a testament to the precision and logic of that pattern that I was able to do it with no prior lace experience.

At the time though, I wasn't very appreciative though of my materials. I used a mish-mash of size 30 white crochet cottons from various makers, bought at different times. You can see where each purchased lot begins and ends, some by slight color difference, some by texture. I got about four courses of leaves into the final outside area and stopped at the point where I ran out of thread (again) and when I was no longer able to delude myself that the thread lot problem wasn't noticeable. I'd need to figure out where I was, buy more mis-matched cotton, finish out another course of leaves, and do the final crochet-off finish before I could even think of blocking. Either that or ravel out a course or two of leaves and finish the thing from that point. So you can get an idea of what the (eventual) goal is, here's Judy Gibson's ROE.

I know some people are asking about when I will be blocking my Alcazar shawl. I'm afraid the Larger Daughter took a fancy to my loud rally check sheets and took them off to sleep away camp. No large item blocking will happen here until she and my sheets return.

I was busy this weekend past.



I worked out the plain triangle and made two. Both are sewn into the growing group. One is indicated by the arrow. I do have a bit of a scrunch problem, but probably not so much that it can't be ignored. The sides of my triangle are less tall than its base is wide. Therefore, when I'm sewing the bases of the patterned triangles onto the sides of the plain one, I have to squish them up a bit. You can see the slight rumples that result.

I do however like the way the points of the stars align. While the orientation I tried last time had more movement in it, because the stars were offset, this one will have less background area.



For those who have asked how I add arrows or other annotations to my photos - I use Macromedia Fireworks to slim, retouch, or otherwise manage my images. I cheat - the arrows are Wingding font "letters" added with the text tool.

Shoe size chart

Some people have pointed out that their European shoe sizes are off a bit from the chart shown yesterday. Mostly at the upper end. The chart's represented equivalent for US shoe sizes Women's 9 and above seems to work out one unit larger than people are reporting. So a 10.5 would be closer to a 42 than a 43. Grains of salt are advised.

I came across this on an Adidas shoe box, and thought it might be of interest to sock knitters, especially those knitting socks as gifts knowing nothing but foot sizes. It's a chart showing adult men's and women's shoe sizes in the US, the UK, France, and Japan. I've added the red line to show my own giant size - US Women's 10.5 (Euro 43, if such a beast exists).

Now by the official centimeter length my giant size works out to a squidge over 28.5 cm. I find my own wool and wool blend socks fit best if they are about 25-27 cm when measured from heel to the tip of the toe: stretchier, finer yarns at the smaller end, less stretchy or heavier yarn at the top end. The one pair of cotton socks I made was about 27.5 cm, to allow for that yarn's lack of stretch.

Why do I make my socks shorter than my actual foot length? If your feet feel like they're swimming in your socks, your socks are too big. Socks NEED to stretch just a bit for optimal fit. Otherwise one gets bunching and foot blisters where the fabric accumulates in folds inside the shoes. Too big socks also wear out faster. All that sliding and rubbing oversize socks do inside shoes translates to extra friction, and friction is a sock-killer.




Click on image above for full size chart

I have to admit that I'm no longer a big fan of wooden and bamboo needles. I liked them when I was just starting out, but as I got more miles under my fingers, I developed a serious desire for speed. These days I stick to shiny, lethal looking metal needles, and only pull out the woods and bamboos when I have to tame a particularly nasty and slippery novelty yarn. Since I detest working with those yarns, my non-metal needles are no longer part of my first bench team. Still, I do have some experiences to report. Note that elswhere on String I've got more on comparative sizes and their metric equivalents, and on comparative needle lengths for circs.

Crystal Palace

Crystal Palace markets Japanese-made bamboo needles of several types:

• Single point, 9 inches long, size US #0-19
• Single point, 12 inches long, size US#0-19
• Double points, sets of five, 8 inches long, size US#0-15
• Double points, sets of five, 6 inches long, size US#0-8
  

In general, these are smooth, nicely finished bamboo needles. The single points have rounded wooden beads on the non-business end. Tapers are a bit less pointy than metal needles. I've found the smaller sizes to be a bit less fragile than the same size needle in wood because the bamboo tends to flex and stay bent rather than bend and (eventually) snap, but even so - if you are someone who routinely finds that your metal needles sport a scimitar-like curve after use, you might find these in sizes smaller than US #3 to be too fragile for extended use.

One other word about bamboo needles in general, sometimes the tips denature a bit, especially if they get damp. When that happens the consituent fibers that make up the bamboo fuzz out a bit and begin catching on one's work. I haven't knit with enough Clovers and CPs to be able to do a comparison between the two lines, but this has happened often enough to be noticeable. A smooth down with very fine emery paper helped get rid of my tip burrs.

Takumi Clover Bamboo

Very similar to the Crystal Palace bamboos, the Takumi are smooth finish, with moderate tapers, and wooden beads on the ends of the single points. The beads are more barrel than round, but the look is very similar. They come in a wider range of lengths, but fewer diameters than CP. Current offerings on their home website include:

• Single point 13-inch long, size US#0-10.5
• Single point 14 inches long, size US#11-15
• Single point 9 inches long, size US #3-10.5
• Double point sets of four, 7 inches long, size US #0-10.5
• Double point sets of four, 16 inches long, size US #3-10.5

I also see these other sizes listed at various vendors

• Single point 16 inches long, size US #17-19
• Circualrs 16 inches long, plastic cables, sizes US#3-15
• Circulars 24 inches long, plastic cables, sizes US#3-15
• Circulars 29 inches long, plastic cables, sizes US #3-15
• Circulars, 36 inches long, plastic cables, sizes US #3-15
• Flex (Jumper needles), 20 inches long, sizes US #3-15
  

The largest difference between the Crystal Palace and Clover circulars is the nature of the join. CP uses a metal cowling into which fit both the needle end and the cable. Clover slots the cable into the butt end of the needle itself, tapering the cable so that it joins the end of the bamboo part smoothly. I can't speak to which is better because I have not used them extensively. I will say that the Clover cable seems a bit stiffer than the Crystal Palace cable.

The Clover form factor I have used quite a bit is the Flex jumper needle. Jumper needles are sort of a hybrid between circs and straights. They're used like straights, but being flexible and whippy at the end allow the weight of the work to puddle on the lap similar to circs. I have several friends who prefer straights, but because of limited hand mobility find even short straights tiresome or painful because of the leverage caused by the weight of the project on the ends of their needles. They greatly prefer jumpers to classic straights. I also liked them because I used to knit quite a bit while riding on the Washington, D.C. subway. Jumpers minimized the threat level for the rider sitting next to me. No needle ends were waving about at the edge of his/her space. (Yes, using circs flat is good for this, too.) I did have problems with my Clover tips furring, especially in the humidity of a Washington summer. Eventually I switched entirely over to metal needles, using circs in the flat rather than jumpers.

Brittany

I adore the look of Brittany needles. I've broken about a dozen over the years. Some died in the course of normal knitting. Others were in-bag or sofa-side casualties. Again, while I like the look, these aren't among the needles I reach for first.

Brittany makes several styles of needle:

• Single points, birchwood, 10 inches long, sizes US #3-17
• Single points, birchwood, 14 inches long, size US #3-17
• Double points, birchwood, sets of five, 7.5 inches long, sizes US #0-17
• Double points, birchwood, sets of five, 5 inches long, size US #0-17
• Double points, birchwood, sets of five, 10 inches long, sizes US#0-17
  

The birch single points have simple but pretty turned ends. Tapers are slightly less pointy across the line compared to bamboo needles. They also tend to be a bit more slick than bamboo, but are still nowhere near as slippery as metal. Some people who are fond of wooden needles keep a piece of nice lanolin-rich fleece or roving around, and rub their wooden needles with it after use. I'm not entirely convinced that this helps, as most of the wood and bamboo finishes used appear to be some kind of polyurethane or other plastic. I doubt the moisture can penetrate the finish, but I guess special care can't hurt.

Brittany also used to sell walnut single points with more ornate turned ends. It doesn't look like they still carry the line. I'm not surprised, as my walnut needles did tend to both dry out and break more than did my birch ones. Over the years I am responsible for the demise of about five pairs of walnut needles, ranging in size from US #10s (trodden upon) to US #5s (mashed when my knitting bag got clipped by a revolving door). I've also snapped quite a few birch single points. I took to using them for traveling back before metal needles were added to the list of allowables on US domestic flights. I must have the finger strength of a moose because I can break birch up to size US #5 clean through just by knitting with it. I do prefer these harder woods to bamboo though. They're smoother, especially at the tip, and their finish is more satiny. They're nice tools. Now if only I could learn to knit gently.

Alcazar progress:



Hazel Carter's Alcazar is another of her multi-page lace patterns that looks incredibly complex, but with a bit of care and attention, is not that hard to follow. It's worked slightly differently than the Spider Queen, but follows the same sort of general logic. First a center panel is knit - in this case, from corner to corner on the diagonal; then stitches are picked up around the edges and the secondary layer is knit center-out. Finally an edging is knit onto the live stitches of the outer layer. One small difference - Spider Queen's outer layer was knit one side at a time, and the four resulting trapezoids were seamed together at the corners. Alcazar's pattern says that the sides may be knit separately like the Spider Queen's, or they may be worked all at once by knitting in the round, thereby eliminating the corner seams. I suppose I could have done SQ that way, too, but it was my first large bit of rectangular lace, and I was deeply into beginners' mode - following directions verbatim - because my understanding of the piece as a whole was so limited.

Also unlike the all-pivot format Spider Queen, some (but not all) of Alcazar's charts are provided in full format in addition to her standard pivot format. The pivot format is sort of a shorthand notation very useful for symmetrical designs and multiple repeats. This idea isn't unique to Hazel Carter. Embroidery modelbooks dating back to the dawn of publishing showed graphed repeats that could be mirrored along two axes to produce infinite strips of patterning. It's a very useful trick that hasn't caught on as widely as it might for knitting charts.

The picture below shows a single pattern row (of my own invention, not taken from Alcazar). You can see it has edge stitches plus several iterations of the main pattern. I could have graphed it up to show one full iteration of that center pattern, plus the edge stitches. That's pretty condensed compared to the original. But it takes even less space to show it in pivot format - the tiny row below the long one.



To follow the shorter row you'd start at the lower right, and work across to the leftmost stitch. That's the first pivot point. I like to mark my pivot columns with a highlighter so that they're easy to spot. When I get to that first pivot point, I pretend that stitch is a mirror, and begin to follow the chart back in the direction from which I just came. Work to pivot stitch. Work pivot stitch once. I keep knitting in the same direction, without flipping my actual piece over or making a short row, BUT I begin to follow the chart back in the direction from which I came.

Now, those among you who noticed that there were decreases in the first trip will wonder what to do about them on the "return." Mirror them. If they was a SSK on the march from right to left, THE SAME BOX will be worked as a K2tog on the march from left to right, and vice versa. This sounds like quite a bit of mental gymnastics, but it's no more difficult to do than it is doing the conceptual flip to interpret the even numbered rows of a chart when knitting in the flat.

Another challenge - on my minichart below, on the first pass from right to left I sailed over a highlighted stitch. That's a secondary pivot point. After I make my turn at the chart's leftmost edge, I work back to the second pivot stitch, work it, then begin following the chart from right to left again - starting at the secondary pivot point.

I continue zinging back and forth between my two pivot points like an ant trapped in a demonic game of Pong until I have only the final few edge stitches remaining. At that point I "go through" the secondary pivot point and finish out my row.

Now. Why would anyone want to do this?

1. Many people find it much easier to keep track of their place on a smaller chart.
2. Charts for large lace projects can be unwieldy, this cuts down the bulk somewhat.
3. Pivot charts highlight the logic of a piece, and make memorizing a complex row easier.

Your mileage may vary - you may find this all terribly confusing, and wonder why anyone would subject his or herself to such conceptual convolutions, but I like having yet another tool in my toolkit, ready to pull out when the need for it presents itself. If you're lace-minded, you never know when you'll need to graph a 300-stitch row, and here's a way to do it if you don't have access to a drafting program and a D-size plotter.

It was pretty much guaranteed to happen. I went through the various lace books on my shelf, but didn't find a pattern that fit my specs for the Paisley Shawl edging. So I'll resort to drafting out one of my own.

Now I don't claim to be any more than a rank beginner at this sort of thing, but I think I've grokked a couple of the fundamentals. The books that have helped me most in learning lace construction are:

• Lewis, Susanna. Knitting Lace. Taunton Press (Newton, CT), 1992.
• Miller, Sharon. Heirloom Knitting. Shetland Times (Lerwick, UK), 2002.
• Stove, Margaret. Creating Original Hand-Knitted Lace. Lacis Publications, (California), 1995.

To start, I'm contemplating either a saw-tooth or triangle edge piece, of indeterminant width (but probably not too wide, in order to conserve yarn). I want to put the quad-eyelet flower motif on it. I want the repeat to be a multiple of 12 rows.

Let's start with the eyelet:



Not too tough. Just a couple of YOs and K2togs, spanning six rows - three of which are purled to make the garter stitch ground.

Now let's look at a simple sawtooth and triangle. Sawtooth edgings are simple because they're built by adding stitches somewhere on the row, usually at the rate of one every other row. When the edging is deep enough, the stitches at one side are bound off and the total stitch count is returned to the original number. Here's a minimal 12-row sawtooth, starting with 5 stitches



It starts with a cast-on of five stitches (not shown), then adds one stitch per odd numbered row. I stuck these increases in a column and made them eyelet-forming YOs, but they really could occur anywhere on the row, including at the very end and could be M1s or another increase that doesn't make a hole. So long as each odd numbered row adds one stitch, the thing will widen appropriately. On Row 12 I bind off six stitches, returning the count to the original five cast on, in preparation for the following Row 1. The blue square is the last loop created by the bind-off conga chain, and is blue to remind me that I need to bind off until four live stitches plus the one formed by the bind off itself remain.

I've also charted these as all knits, but they could be anything, and anything can be plopped onto the base pattern. That includes the quad-eyelet, or other patterning. The whole thing can also be made wider by working some kind of vertical insertion strip at the right, prior to commencing the stitches of this mini-chart. For example, it's common to increase the width of an edging by adding a column of faggotting, or a cable or lace insertion there.

Here's a very 12-row triangle edging. It's slightly more complicated because all the decreases needed to create the points aren't lumped together and done on the final row:



Again, the increases and decreases can occur anywhere in the row. To make comparisons easier, I've included the column of YOs as a design feature in both this and the sawtooth. But running them the entire length of the repeat means I would be adding a stitch on the "downhill" side, when I need to be taking one away to make the basic shaping. Therefore I've put two decreases on Rows 7, 9 and 11. The first one cancels out the addition of the stitch created by the YO (placed near the YOs for reasoning clarity only, in fact they could go anywhere on the row). The second one forms the triangle's shape.

I could make the triangle steeper by changing the rate of increase, either by doing something interesting on EVERY row instead of every other row. (That's one of the discriminators that marks the difference between true lace knitting and lacy knitting. Knit lace mavens would say that these simple examples are properly termed lacy knitting, and not lace knitting.) Or I could add additional YOs, or use double YOs. The possibilities are endless.

Here are the sawtooth and the simple triangle, tarted up with the garter stitch main texture and the quad-eyelet. I'll start by swatching these, then see if I want something more demonstrative and lacier, or plainer. I'll also judge width. Narrower might be tough without compromising the space I need to show the eyelets, but wider is VERY easy. If I want to make my life easy I can use any texture pattern with a 3 row, 4 row, 6 row or 12 row repeat to stretch my edging wider. I could use patterns with different row counts, too, but that would make tracking where I am in the thing just a bit harder.


WEDNESDAY UPDATE:?
These two pattern charts will NOT make a nice, neat quad eyelet motif. Explorations of why and a correction are posted in tomorrow's entry.

More from the inbox.

Stitch marker in the middle of decreases

Stinkyknitter is also working on the Paisley Shawl. She noted that some of the repeats in the second chart begin or end with a decrease, and asks how I manage stitch markers that end up in the middle of two stitches that are supposed to be worked together.

I move 'em.

Being a Continental style knitter, I'm loathe to remove my hands from my needles while I'm working. I usually use my "third hand," grabbing the offending stitch marker in my teeth and holding it for the one or two stitches required. One of the reasons I started using broken earring fobs and making fancy stitch markers a gazillion years ago was that the hanging ornaments made them easy to grab this way.

On my Paisley, the only markers that need to be moved are the plain split rings. They're pretty small - small enough in fact to be slid through stitches if need be, but they're also wide enough to stay put unless otherwise "encouraged." When I get to a SSK that's bisected by a stitch marker I use my needle tip to pop it through the leading stitch, then transfer it to the right hand needle, and work the SSK on the appropriate (far) side of the marker. On K2togs, it's the third hand method.

Yes it can be a pain to stop and shuffle them around. When I graph up repeats for my own use, I often finagle the beginning and end points so that my markers don't end up splitting the difference in the decreases.

Re-knitting tension

A couple of people wrote to ask about gauge tension in the re-knitted repairs. They asked if the new replacement work looked different from the rest of the piece, or if the stitches at the edges of the new work where it bordered the old were distorted in any way.

To be truthful, a bit of care is needed when you're re-knitting the ladders after ripping down. There is great temptation to start out each row working rather loosely, then wrestle to eke out the remaining stitches from the remaining length of the ladder strand.  I make a conscious effort to avoid this, and try to form all my stitches with the same tension as the original knitting. 

A couple of times I've had to re-knit a cable, and that cable was centered in the section being re-knit.  I tried working the crossing several times, but always ended up not having enough of the ladder strand available to finish the couple stitches that came after it.  So I worked that particular row from both ends, picking up the stitches to the left and right of the cable and then sliding them onto the needles that held the "good" knitting on either side of the section undergoing repair.  After they were rescued, the only stitches that remained on my fix-it DPN were those of the cable crossing itself.  I did those last, absorbing the tightness into the natural tightness of the crossing.

As far as appearance, after my usual post-knitting wash and dry prior to assembly, any unevenness is smoothed out.  I've never needed to do anything else to a re-knit repair, nor have any of them been recognizable as such after garment completion.  (If I had time instead of rushing out the door to work right now, I'd dig up some pieces that were fixed mid-stream and take some pix to prove it.)

Pattern source

A couple of people missed my first post on the Paisley Shawl earlier this week, and wanted to know where they could find the pattern. It's in the Spring 2005 edition of Interweave Knits - page 96. Not the Summer edition that (most) subscribers received last week, but the one before that.



Writing

Thank you to everyone who sent in kind words about the tech articles at String. To be truthful, this blog is a busman's holiday for me. In Real Life I'm a proposal writer, mostly working in/with engineering or high-tech firms. Compared to communicating concepts in nuclear engineering or high-end routing, writing about knitting is easier and lots more fun.  Plus winging my way through this has reinforced my appreciation for editors.  I'm embarrassed to admit the number of spelling, grammar, or punctuation mistakes I fly past without noticing while I'm writing, but find later.  To quote a former boss, "Only fools proof their own work."

I'm past the center part now on the Paisley Shawl, and have finished the dividing section of K2, YOs. I'm pleased with it so far, although it's tough to see well wadded up as it is on the circular needle. Still, you can make out some details if you squint at this:



See all those little stitch markers?

I'm a big believer in stitch markers in lace. I don't use a lifeline, but I do mark my repeats - usually every repeat in a large piece. I find that doing so becomes a built-in proofing system. If the stitch count is off beginning the next repeat, I know something went wacky in either the previous one, or in the repeat one row below. I then have the option of ripping back or ripping down just that one repeat. There are complications of course if a decrease spans the juncture point between repeats, but in general this system has served me well. In this case I'm using three different types of markers. Large silver dinglebobs mark the beginning and midpoint of my rounds (the beginning one is especially elaborate). Small red rings mark the quarter points (my pattern is a square, knit center out, so the beginning, mid and quarter points each define a full side repeat set). Tiny silver color split rings mark each motif repeat. The split rings are crafts store specials, bought in a bag of 200 for less than $1.50.

Ripping Down

I know a lot of people are terrified at the prospect of ripping one repeat down. It's not as scary as it sounds and can usually be done with success on almost anything. Yes, some stitches are harder to rip back, parse out, and reconstruct than others but it's always worth a try. The alternative is ripping back entire rows. If deconstructing and re-knitting a section works, that saves the effort of redoing an entire row; and if selective ripping doesn't work the worst that happens is that you'll need to rip back that entire row anyway. So you can either luck out and save time, or if luck and skill fail you, you end up no worse than you would have been had the effort not been made.

To rip out a bunch of stitches vertically then re-knit them, it's good to understand the nature of knit stitches and the way they are seated on the needles. I've mentioned stitch mounting and twisted stitches before. Recognizing the difference and seating stitches correctly is very important to this process. For starters, when you pick your stitches up after ripping past the broken part, you want to make sure that the survivors are mounted with the leading leg in front:



I start by identifying a good span surrounding the mistake. I don't want to split a decrease, so I try to begin and end the segment in an area of plain stockinette or garter stitch. I find the corresponding section on my charted pattern, or if there isn't one - I chart up the repeat and then identify the suspect bit. Note that if you are doing lace, colorwork or textures, this process is vastly aided by being able to work from charts. You can do it if you have prose directions and are thoroughly familiar with your repeat, but it is much harder to identify the stitches in the section that needs to be redone without a stitch by stitch representation of the work.

Once I have identified my bit to be redone both on the needles and on my chart, I isolate it. I'll knit to just before it, then slide it onto a DPN of the same size as my working needles. This is one of the few times I use needle tips (or rubber bands). I plug the live needle ends before and after my broken section to prevent the balance of the work's good stitches from leaking off and complicating the problem. Once I've got the section isolated, I ladder it back down past my error.  I try to end on a row that's easy to pick up.  For example, rows with lots of increases and decreases or cable crossings can play havoc with stitch mounting, so I try to avoid them. The squeamish might like to thread a mini-lifeline through a row of good stitches below the error to make sure they don't go down further than necessary, but I just take a deep breath and wing it.

When my suspect rows are unraveled, I end up with a bunch of strands suspended ladder-like between the areas of good knitting. I put the last row of good stitches below this mega-ladder back onto the DPN, taking care to mount them correctly. Then I take a second DPN and following the directions on my chart, and using the bottom-most string of my ladder, I re-knit the first suspect row. It's usually a bit awkward there on the last couple stitches, but care and patience always defeats the problem. I repeat the process with the second row of the suspect area, using the now bottom-most string of my ladder. Sometimes I start each of these make-up rows at the right, working them all as right side rows. Sometimes I do flip the piece over and work every other row as if it were a wrong side row. It mostly depends on whether or not I'm working the whole project in the round or in the flat.

Once all the suspect rows have been re-knit and no ladder strands remain, I uncap the right hand needle and continue with my normal working strand across my "mainstream" row, working across the now rescued stitches. Once those are done, I uncap my left hand needle and continue merrily along my way as if no mistake had dared to intrude itself.

Give this a try the next time you look back several rows and spot a cable crossed katywumpus, or some purls that should have been knit. And if you're timid, try doing it to a swatch on which you've made a deliberate mistake.

Following up on last Wednesday's post on looped cast-ons, today I'll blunder through the family of knitted-on cast ons. Reference books not detailed below are listed in the original post.

There are dozens and dozens of cast ons. I know I haven't gotten you your particular favorite yet. Eventually I hope to cover as many as I can find. Why bother?? Because it's always nice to have options, to find new ways to do things and in doing so - to find out that some might just be a tad better than others in a specific use case. To someone who only owns a hammer, everything looks like a nail. To someone with a whole toolbox at their disposal, the hammer might not always be exactly what's needed.

I'll keep posting these. For the ones that are well illustrated or easy to describe, I'll forgo illustrations, presenting instead these reference links. When I get to some of the less widely seen (or harder to describe) styles, I'll begin adding my own illustrations. But we're still well within the Known World here, so please forgive the lack of pix.


Simple Knit-On Cast On

This is a very popular cast on, although it's more often taught outside the US. It's often taught to children learning in large class situations. I know several knitters who learned to knit as small children in schools as far flung as Hong Kong, Brasilia, and Bangalore, all of whom report this as the first cast on they were taught.

Knitting on produces a neat, even edge that's less elastic and more robust than that produced by the half-hitch cast-on. It can be worked either as the foundation for an entire piece, or as a method of adding stitches at the end or in the middle of a row. It's not uncommon for example to find a scrap of knitting on (or a sister technique) forming the top edge of a buttonhole.

Advantages:? No need to measure out long tail lengths. Easy to teach absolute beginners. Miller in Heirloom Knitting mentions the utility of this simple cast on for lace (she uses half-hitch and invisible cast ons, too), citing the edge construction as being suitable for going back later and picking up or attaching additional stitches.

Disadvantages:? Not as stretchy as some cast-ons, but stretchy enough for most uses, even lace. The front and back have a different appearance. Some people don't like the look of one or the other, and add a row to their pattern to make sure that the preferred side is visible when the garment is finished.

On line references:
http://www.knittinghelp.com/knitting/basic_techniques/index.php
http://www.wonderful-things.com/newknit1.htm
http://www.mycraftbook.com/Cast_On_Stitch.asp (a little hard to follow)
http://www.learntoknit.com/instructions_kn.php3
http://www.knitting.co.nz/pages/knitting/caston.php

Book references:
DMC Encyclopedia, Fig. 419
Vogue p. 26
Bantam, p. 17
Miller, Heirloom Knitting, p. 33

Cable Cast On

The cable cast on is very closely related to plain old knitting on. The difference is in the formation of the new loops. In knitting on, the needle is inserted in a stitch in the normal fashion, and the new loop is pulled through the old stitch and placed on the end of the left hand needle. In cabling on, the new loop is formed in the space between the last stitch cast on and the one before it. (The first stitch in a cable cast-on is always a plain on knit on stitch because at the outset there aren't two loops on the needle in between which one can pick up that new stitch).

Advantages:? No need to calculate tail lengths. Very firm stitch with a pronounced decorative edge. One of the least stretchy cast-ons. Excellent for cuffs, hems, but less useful for necklines, sock tops and other high-stretch scenarios. Very good choice for cottons or other less-elastic yarns that have a tendency to stretch out (and stay stretched) with wear. Makes excellent, long-wearing buttonholes.

Disadvantages:? Stretch (see above). Like knitting on, this has two very different sides visually. Some people add or subtract a row from their pattern to make sure that the preferred side ends up on the front of the work.

On-line sources:
http://www.knittinghelp.com/knitting/basic_techniques/index.php
http://www.wonderful-things.com/newknit1.htm
http://www.knittingatknoon.com/cable.html
http://www.worldknit.com/howto/howtoknit/beginningtechniques/castingon.html

Book references:
Stanfield, p. 16
Vogue, p. 26
Bantam, p. 17


Alternate Cable Cast On

I've only seen this one detailed in Vogue. It's a variant of the standard cable cast-on, made even firmer by working the cast-on row's stitches through the back, rather than through the front of the piece. I haven't tried it myself, so I can only report the book's assertion that this method creates a firm edge. Also, from the accompanying illustration, it has a much less defined "edge spine" running across the bottom edge. People wishing to avoid that visual edge at the bottom of ribbing may want to experiment with this method.

Book reference:
Vogue, p. 26.

A couple of people have asked me why I thought a Dutch heel was easier than other forms of heel-flap sock heels; and how they fit.

First, there are lots of other treatises on Dutch heels elsewhere on the Web. Judy Gibson has a nice write-up on this heel variant. It's part of the Socknitters Cybersocks on-line sock tutorial. Regina Williams has done a work-up on the math needed to construct Dutch style heels on toe-ups.

In terms of history Dutch heels date back to at least the 1880s. I found one mention of them on the Web in a transcription of an 1883 edition of The Girl's Own Paper, a typical young women's interest magazine of the time. They may in fact be older, but sources on sock heels before 1883 at my fingertips as I type this aren't very copious.

In terms of fit, Dutch heels have the ample instep (upper foot/ankle) of other shaped heels. That means they're deeper in the ankle than are short-rowed sock heels. They are also a bit more snug side to side than other forms of round or square heels. People with average to narrow width feet and especially people with narrow heels will find them quite comfortable. While my own feet are in the walrus flipper range of size, my heels are narrower than one would expect given my paddle-like toes. I am still experimenting with Dutch heels, knit both cuff down and toe up. I'll report back on comfort and fit as compared to short-rowed heels once I get a few more pairs into my wash/wear cycle.

I think the Dutch heel I've learned is easier than a standard round heel because the heel cup area maintains the same stitch shaping repeat throughout. the short-row segment that forms the heel has parallel sides. You don't need to keep as close track of where you are in the shaping's progression as you complete that stage of the work.

Here's an example of a hypothetical Dutch heel, worked on 7.5 stitches per inch/10.5 rows per inch (the standard label gauge of Schoeller/Stahl Fortissima/Socka - a textbook classic sock yarn). I've calculated this for a average sized cuff-down sock, one that would probably fit someone wearing a US Women's 7-8 medium shoe size. This works out to a very average sock of 60 stitches around. To simplify things, I'll suppose a plain stockinette heel flap.

I'd work the ankle as desired. When it was completed, I'd work my heel on 30 stitches (half the available circumference). Because I normally use a set of 5 DPNs, that means I'd be doing my heel across two of them. People using two circs would work this across one of their needles. Magic Loop folks would work this across the stitches on one side of their needle's loop.



I'd knit the heel flap in plain stockinette, slipping the first stitch of each row to make nice easy to pick up in chain selvedges. I'd probably make it about 30 rows deep, ending after completing a wrong-side row.

To turn the heel, starting on a knit side row, I'd knit 18, work a ssk, then turn my work over. Heading back in the other direction, I'd slip the first stitch, then purl 6. Then I'd do a purl two together, and flip my work over again. Back on the knit side row, I'd slip the first stitch (that's the one I purled two together on during the previous row), then knit 6 and work another ssk. I'd repeat the slip 1, purl 6, p2tog, turn row; followed by the slip one knit 6, ssk, turn row until I had consumed ALL the stitches available on my heel needles, and my total on-needle(s) stitch count was 8, after the completion of a purl side row.

To make the gusset, I'd knit across the top of the heel to put myself in position to start the gusset pick-ups. Looking down the left side of the heel flap, I'd pick up 15 stitches in the chain stitch selvedge loops. At the bottom of the heel flap I'd do the anti-hole cheat by picking up an additional stitch at the base of the flap, for a total of 16 new stitches. Then I'd pick up my dormant instep needle and work across the top-of-foot stitches. If I were using the circ methods, I'd switch back to my heel-bearing circ or circ segment after the foot-top stitches were done. Now At the base of the heel flap on the other side of the foot-top stitches, I'd first pick up that anti-hole cheat stitch, then 15 in the chain stitch selvedge loops heading back up the right side of the heel flap.

I now have all the stitches I need to create my gusset. I'd knit across the heel flap and down the left hand edge until only three stitches remained, then I'd do a K2tog, and knit the last stitch on the needle. Changing to my top of foot needle(s) I'd work those stitches, then switch back to my heel needle(s), working a K1, ssk, and then knitting back up the side of the gusset and across the top of my heel. I'd knit the next round plain (no K2tog or ssk decrease at the corners of the gusset). After the plain row, I'd do another decrease row, alternating decrease rows and plain rows until I was back to having 60 stitches total again, the same number I had before the heel began.

so we see that the only real difference between a Dutch heel and the other standard heel flap and gusset heels is in the formation of the heel turn (heel cup). In the Dutch heel there are only two rows to remember - s1, knit (x), ssk; and s1, purl (x), p2tog. That to me at least makes it easier to calculate and to teach. Also to work in fits and starts, as my briefcase sock per force should be a project in which the need to keep track of where I am is minimal.

Here's about 11 inches or so of Rogue. In the continuing cascade of mods made necessary by my shifting to a thinner yarn and smaller gauge, I've worked six of the side cable repeats before branching back to complete the side panel chart. No problem there.



I do note however that as expected - this is going to be a weighty object in cotton. Cotton weighs more per yard than wool. 50 grams of cotton yarn will contain fewer yards than 50 grams of a comparable thickness wool. So far I've used about 300 grams of cotton. That's roughly 2/3 of a pound. My finished piece may end up weighing as much as 2 or 3 pounds!


Useful tools and toys:

I've gotten quite a few notes lately asking for help with metric conversions, needle sizes, fabric care, garment sizes and yarn weights; confusion about how to figure out repeats given a set stitch count; and requests for descriptions of basic knitting techniques. Here's a raft of tools that I find useful for these purposes, plus some other useful or interesting (or amusing) things tossed in.

Knitting needle size equivalencies (FiberGypsy):
http://www.fibergypsy.com/common/needles.shtml

Metric/Imperial unit conversion calculators:
http://www.sciencemadesimple.com/conversions.html
http://www.mcnichols.com/products/productsupportfiles/conv.calc.htm

Factor generators (good for finding possible pattern repeats from a stitch count total)
http://www.markhorrell.com/tools/factors.asp
http://www.counton.org/explorer/primes/primecalc.shtml

Descriptions of the count (X/X) systems of yarn weight and yardage used by machine knitters:
http://www.cara4webshopping.com/cara_free/yarn-wts.htm
http://www.yarns-and.com/yarnto.htm

How-to videos or animations showing basic knitting techiques:
http://www.knittinghelp.com
http://www.dnt-inc.com/barhtmls/knittech.html

Tutorial on reading lace knitting charts (Heirloom Knitting):
http://www.heirloom-knitting.co.uk/pages/beginners_guide2.html

Fabric care label symbols:
http://ohioline.osu.edu/hyg-fact/5000/5556.html

Heel stitch count chart (dead link retrieved using Wayback Machine)
http://web.archive.org/web/20021016042840/http://www.magma.ca/~vanmac/heels.htm

Garment size charts:
http://www.yarnstandards.com/sizing.html
http://www.fibergypsy.com/Charts_and_Other_Helpful_Resources/Size_and_Measurement_Charts/

Sock size survey results:
http://www.needletrax.com/SockSizeAnalysis.html#

Jaya's round-up of knitting software availble for Palm handhelds:
http://www.palmsource.com/interests/knitting//

Back neck shaping for the Math-Aware:
http://www.hillcrestknitwear.com/knitting%20info/ff%20back%20neck%20formula.html

Toys

Sockman
http://www.renfro.com/consumer/Renfro/funstuff/sockcalculator/

Assorted esoteric Google time-wasters (Google Blogoscoped):
http://blog.outer-court.com/archive/2005-01-29-n34.html

I'm split among several different knitting foci right now. First, there's the upcoming class. I've finished the hand-outs I'll be distributing covering both two circ and one giant circ production;? the practice pair of socks; and the sample mini-sock we'll be making during the workshop. I'm as ready as I'll ever be. I've also gotten word of a potential design commission. If and when that occurs and I'm permitted to bruit about the details, I'll report them here. In the mean time, here are my practice socks, dutifully completed one with the one giant circular technique, and the other using the two-circ method:



Nothing special. Just plain old Regia 6-ply Crazy Color stockinette socks, with Dutch heels, and standard toes grafted to finish. On the pair with the turquoise toe I took care to finish out the color repeat such that the line of grafting ended up being a contrasting color, so the class can see where it is.

Having put the class socks to be, I've picked up Rogue again. A couple of people have asked if I'm doing mirror image Make Ones on either side of the verticals that run up the design. The answer is "Yes."? I don't usually stoop to this level of ultra-refinement, but for this project because the two Make Ones are separated by only one stitch, using them does make a visual difference. Here's how I do them:



To get a make one with a top leg that crosses lower right to upper left (S-style), I lift the running bar between two stitches, mounting it such that the leading leg of the bar is in the front of the needle (standard stitch orientation). Then I knit into the
back of that bar.

To produce a make one with a top leg that crosses lower left to upper right (Z-style), I lift the running bar between two stitches, mounting it such that the leading leg of the bar is in the back of the needle (opposite of standard stitch orientation). Then I knit into the FRONT of that bar.

As to which to deploy in what situation - most of the time I doesn't matter. My standard issue default Make One is S-style. If a pattern just calls for one, that's the one I do. In cases where mirrored ones are needed, I'll experiment. Sometimes the final result looks better if the S-style Make One is deployed on the left of a visual unit, with its sister Z-style deployed on the right. Sometimes it's the other way around. On my Little Dragon Skin I'm working the Z-style on the left of the center spine, and the S-unit on the right.

Rogue photos later this week. I promise.

No Rogue progress. My knitting time is consumed with class-related experimentation. Here's the surviving result:



No surprise. It's a sock knit from leftovers of the same DK-weight Regia 6-Ply Crazy Color yarn I used for The Small One's Crazy Raglan. It's on a single US #3 size 40-inch circ. I'm working these socks at this (for me) giant gauge so I can get in as much experimentation as possible before the actual class.

I've been experimenting with various heels, trying to decide which will be the easiest "classic heel" to use in the workshop for our knit-together project. I'm doing this because I've been told that the majority of people who have signed up have never made socks before. Some have never even knit in the round. I want the class to get through the danger spots of sock construction - cast on, a heel and a toe.

What you see above is a simple Dutch heel. It's not as form-fitting as a round or other more finely shaped heel, but of all the turned heels (as opposed to short-row heels), I think it will be the simplest to both describe and work.

I'm still waffling between showing the heel worked entirely on one side of the sock, with the cable needle looping out done at the left and right of the piece, or re-assorting the stitches after completion of picking up along the sides of the gusset, then working the rest of the sock with the looping out at the center top and bottom of the foot. And as you can see, I've not yet experimented with toes. That's next. Toes may be the kicker on stitch reapportionment. If I'm getting too much laddering with the split on the sides as established, I might re-engineer my thought and move the stitches around either immediately after completion of the final gusset row, just before the toe itself, or back before the gusset decreases are started. And that means that the poor sock you see above will cease to exist in the current form, and be sacrificed to the minor gods of ripping back.

Two items side by side on two circs

An anonymous person asked if I could show or explain how to do two things side by side on two circs.

I have to admit, I cheat somewhat because casting two items on side by side can make for confusion and twisted cast-on rows. I begin each item individually and work the first row before mounting my two items side by side. After I've got a scrap of knitting, i divide the stitches in half. I thread the first half of Item A onto a circ, followed by the first half of item B. Then I take a second circ and thread the other half of item B onto it, followed by the second half of Item A's stitches.



I now have a piece that should look (more or less) like the drawing above. I work across the front side of item A, knitting from it's own ball of yarn. Then I drop that strand, pick up the other and work across the front side of item B. When I finish the last stitch of this side of B, I flip the whole thing over, and using the same B yarn, work back along the reverse of B. Then I drop that strand, pick up the A yarn and work the back side of Item A. At the conclusion of this cycle, I will have completed a full round on both A and B, and have both strands of yarn back in the positions shown in the illustration.

I'm well into my learning sock now, and I have to say that like any method, the one oversize circ technique for knitting in the round (popularized by Bev Galeskas under the name "Magic Loop") has its plusses and minuses. But so do both the two circ method and using traditional DPNs.

Advantages will be mostly felt by newer sock knitters who aren't used to working on DPNs. They include not having all those DPNs in the work, and not having to worry about them falling out in one's knitting bag, or having stitches drop off the ends. Also, because there's a moment where one can pull the yarn of the last stitch on the other side of the needle tight around the circ's cable, it's easier to avoid those corner ladders that can form if tension isn't just right.

Deviating from the Galeskas method a bit, I found standard (round, Dutch, Vee) heels are a bit easier to visualize if?the flap is worked back and forth on one side of the piece, and picking up to form both gusset edge is done so that all heel-forming stitches end up on?one side of the circ. Depending on the depth of the heel and heel style chosen some reapportionment of stitches may be needed just before the heel is started, so that one side of the?circ carries only the stitches needed for the heel flap, and the other carries the rest of them destined to become the top of the foot. After the heel flap is done and the gusset stitches are picked up, the gusset decreases are worked until the foot's stitch count around?has been reached. At that point if there are unequal numbers of stitches on the two sides of the circ they can be re-divided into equal parts so that toe formation is easier. Short-row heel production is pretty close to the same compared to DPNs, except that the heel unit is worked entirely on one circ half as opposed to being done on a unit composed to two DPNs.

For me however, the method presents a couple of disadvantages. First, I'm taking a severe cut in production speed compared to using five DPNs, as after each half-round I have to stop and thread the circ through the stitches on the needle so that the points are correctly placed for the next half. I am not particularly fond of the bit of wrestling needed to move the stitches back and forth over the cable joins at the base of the needles, and I find the first row to be particularly annoying, especially with the stretchy half-hitch cast on I favor for sock tops. Also very short circumference rows are more of a pain than wider circumference rows. I'm going to be sorely tempted to move my knitting to DPNs when I get down to the toe, rather than finishing out the piece entirely on the giant circ.

I can also see that extended use of a circ in this fashion is more stressful on the needle than conventional knitting in the round. I'd be wary of using a needle from a multisize kit in this fashion, were they to come in a suitably long enough length. I also note that most people are using very long circs (36" or 40") to knit relatively small circumference things like socks (although if only one sock was being made at a time, some knitters might be able to get away with one size shorter needle). These are expensive and can be difficult to find. Items wider than say hats would be difficult to do using the one oversized circ method unless a really long needle could be found.



The giant circ method is very close to the two-circ method in terms of execution. Both divide the stitches in half. In the giant loop method, the halves are separated by the teased out cable loop. In the two circ method, each half of the sock is on its own needle. Working methods are the same, except there is no teasing the needle back through the work each half row with two circs. To be fair, there is a moment of drop and hunt as the needle end needed for the next half row must be selected from the three danglers. Heels are worked in the same manner, with the heel unit being contained entirely on one circ. And both methods can be used for side-by-side sock production, in which both socks of the pair can be knit at the same time, each from its own ball of yarn.



To my mind, there's one more clear advantage of the two-circ method over the one-circ method - while you do need to shell out for two needles, they needn't be extra long. Many people may have two circs of sufficient matching diameter already in their collections. The two-circ method can be done even using two circs of unequal length (if the difference in length is very large, stitches may have to be divided in a smaller and larger group rather than evenly). Even using shorter or mis-matched circs there is less limitation on how large in circumference an item can be done than there is using the one-circ method. In fact, if one WERE to use two 40-inch long circs in the two needle method, one could knit a tube of around 75- 80 inches around (or bigger if the yarn/stitches were squishable). Of course, at the lower end of the range, the two-circ method has the same weakness as the one-circ method - smaller circumferences and fewer stitches are more of a pain than larger ones because there is more stop and grab or needle shifting compared to knitting time as a whole.

Finally, any sock pattern knit in the round - toe up or cuff down - can be used with both methods. Patterns written for five DPNs (four in the work, one to knit with) translate the easiest, as each side of the sock is equivalent to one of the circs in two-circ; or half of the stitches placed on one side of the giant circ in the one-circ method. Patterns written for three needles just need a tiny bit of tinkering to divide the available stitches between two needles. For sanity, I'd suggest dividing the stitch groups at the point between the ones that will form the top of the foot (the instep stitches that are not worked during heel production); and all others. In some cases this should be evenly in half, in others, there may be one needle at the sock's outset that carries a few more than the other.

I'll continue and finish out this pair of socks using the one-circ method. I'll probably do another using two-circ just to keep parity. But being DPN-handy, I won't be switching over to use either method for routine sock production. However both methods ARE handy tools to keep in one's knitting toolbox. I DO use two-circ now quite often for knitting sweater bodies in the round, and find it a godsend for working two in-the-round sleeves side by side (no more "is the second sleeve long enough yet?" guesswork). I might use the giant circ method for hats or leg-warmers, but for something as narrow as a sock, mitten, or wristlet, it's just too much needle manipulation for me.

To sum up - both methods are nice additions to one's knitting tool set. Both have advantages and limitations. While both are useful (especially for the DPN-shy), neither is an absolute substitute for DPN skill for everybody, nor for every instance in which DPNs are commonly used. I encourage everyone to expand their skill sets. You never know when a left-handed wratchet-ended sawtooth crimper is required, and it's nice to have one available when faced with that need.

If you want to learn more about these techniques I'd suggest Galeskas' The Magic Loop: working Around on One Needle (Fiber Trends, 2002) for the one-circ method; and Cat Bordi's Socks Soar on Two Circular Needles (Passing Paws Press, 2001) for the two needle method. Both books present these methods in well-explained detail, accompanied by patterns and sample projects. Both are widely available through general merchandise and needlework/knitting specialty booksellers.

Answer to a quick question:

Can the Fleur de Lys motif shown yesterday be used for knitting?

Sure. Like anything graphed, the fleur can be knit, but with a caveat. In cross stitch, the individual units that build a motif are square. They have a 1:1 aspect ratio, as wide as they are tall. Likewise, needlepoint units are (mostly) square. They're worked on a square grid, but if they're in tent stitch the stitches themselves are a diagonal spanning that square. Therefore the edges of color areas don't always appear as neat and trim as in cross stitch. This graph is composed of square units, and is intended mostly (but not exclusively) for stitchers.

Knitting presents a different challenge. It's rare for a knitting stitch to have a 1:1 aspect ratio. Knitting stitches are usually wider than they are tall. It's not uncommon to have a stitch gauge of 22 stitches = 4 inches, but a row gauge of 30 rows = 4 inches (that's the standard for a classic DK weight yarn). That works out to an aspect ratio of 22:30 or 5.5/7.5 if you simplify the representation. That's NOT square. If you knit up a graph that's been drawn out on a square ratio grid in this aspect ratio, you'll end up with a motif that's somewhat squished looking north/south direction.

There are several ways around this. First is to choose designs that have a bit of north/south spread in them to begin with. They'll look different when compressed, but if they're elongated enough to begin with, they'll end up with a reasonable set of visual proportions. My lion graph, shared eons ago for people who wanted to do lion sweaters as described in the Harry Potter books is this kind of design. It's got enough "natural" height so that it looks o.k. if worked verbatim in a somewhat squashed aspect ratio.

The second is to graph out your design on a grid that has an aspect ratio that matches your knitted gauge. If you want to do this, the English language Japanese website ABCs of Knitting features a very nice graph paper generator. It's listed among the tools on the page's lower right.

A third way to get around this problem is to blow up the design. Very simple motifs can sometimes be made quite dramatic by reading a unit of two knit stitches by three rows for every square on the grid. Not practical for larger gauge knits, as even a small motif could outgrow the area intended for display, but occasionally useful none the less.

A fourth fix is more of a fudge. Depending on the complexity of the motif you want to knit, you can take a plain old square unit graph and by repeating every third or fourth row (depending on your gauge), you can stretch it out to compensate for aspect ratio squish. Obviously, this works best for simple motifs rather than complex ones, and at finer gauges. I've done it in sport weight yarn or finer, and it has worked well enough, with the duplication fading into the overall look and not being evident. This method can be problematic though for things like graphed letters adopted from cross stitch samplers, and for ultra-small geometrics whose motifs are built on single square units. For the latter, I might be tempted to use the third method, above.

Of course one can always ignore the problem all together, placing the borrowed motif so that the stretched dimension becomes a design feature and not a bug. This is what I did with last year's crocheted dragon curtain. I worked across the narrow dimension of the curtain rather than starting along the bottom edge, in part because the non-square nature of my filet crochet blocks would distort the motif too much if worked in the latter direction. You can see the original proportions of the graph, and the finished piece.





If you look the knight, you'll see that in my crochet he's taller and a bit squashed east/west compared to the original. But if I hadn't called out the difference, I'd bet you'd not have noticed.

Rogue

Rogue progresses. I'm another two inches or so into the body. Not much more to show beyond yet another blurry photo of a slightly larger blue object, so I'll hold off until I can post pix with more content. I can say that in spite of competing demands on my time reducing the total amount I can spend on the thing, now that I'm past the pockets and my multiple mistakes, it is fairly flying along. I am looking ahead to the next set of complications - alterations to the armhole area and beginning of the hood's frame that might be necessary due to my gauge re-computation.

Sock Class

I'm beginning my prep for my upcoming sock knitting class, reading up on and trying out the Magic Loop technique. It may be heresy to admit, especially for someone who is going to be teaching a workshop on this method, but I find it to be fiddly and (for me) much slower than using DPNs. But I realize that there is a legion of DPN-haters out there who view this method as being their ticket to finally making socks. So I'll persevere for their sake.

The plan is for a three-hour workshop, during which I'll hand out an original pattern for a very abbreviated small cuff-down sock - roughly baby size, but with sadly truncated ankle and foot parts to save time. The idea is to walk the class through that ENTIRE sock in the given time, from the cast on, through the heel, and finally down to the toe. A normal size sock would be too time-consuming to get far enough for a meaningful experience, especially around the heel, so I'll cut back on the plain old stockinette areas, leaving in just enough to get familiar with the manipulations of the needle(s). I'll also hand out an original pattern for a normal size sock that the class can take home and use for practice.

One further complication - I prefer to teach on socks knit at DK or worsted gauge - again, fewer yet larger and easier to see stitches. But the extra-long circs for the Magic Loop method are in short supply, and are quite expensive. Likewise for the two circs needed for that method. I don't think it's fair to ask the class to come equipped with needles in a size that they (probably) won't be using for their regular sock knitting, so I'm going to do the thing using standard issue sock weight yarn.

I've taught knitting classes before, mostly on toe-up socks, basic crochet, and on beginning knitting. I've been told I pack too much detail into the time alloted. In this case I will have to agree. Ideally I'd do either single oversized circ or two circ socks, not both. I do intend the choice to be either-or, as the methods are largely compatible. Learners will get their choice of working one or the other, and except for needle manipulation the basic sock-making steps should be the same for both. Obviously more thought on this is in order. If any blinding insights of clarity and nuance suggest themselves to me, I'll post them here. Otherwise, it's just more socks.

I admit it. I'm wrong. Not that it happens all that infrequently. Yesterday I answered a question on the KnitList about the central double increase used in the side panel cables of Rogue. I didn't have my knitting with me, nor was I at my base station, surrounded by my reference library. So of course, I messed up.

Because confusion persists, and I still think there might be a typo in the directions for this stitch as written, I present a walk-through.

The bottoms of the closed loops in the side panel cables are formed by central double increases. The Rogue pattern directions say:

I think the "knit into front and back" should be reversed. The all-knowing Barbara Walker in both her Charted Knitting Designs (aka Walker III) and Fourth Treasury of Knitting Stitches (aka Walker IV), says this (paraphrased from page xxiv of Walker III):


Like a dingbat I also reversed the front/back first step. Here's how it should go:

First, knit into the back of the stitch (needle shown inserted into back of next stitch, ready to knit):



Then knit into the front of THE SAME stitch (needle shown inserted in the right place, ready to knit):


Here's the result after doing the two knits described above:


If you look carefully, you can see the vertical bar both sets of directions describe. I've called it out with an arrow:


I take my left hand needle tip and grab that bar, then knit into the back of it as well. Bar shown on the left hand needle tip, ready to be knit as a twisted stitch:



The end result: three stitches where there was one before:



The beatings may commence at sundown. Thanks to Rosemary who took me to task on this one.

Edge Scallops

I also received an interesting observation from Melanie, who said she'd tinkered with Dragon Skin and noticed that it made a very pronounced scalloped edge. She wants to know if Little Dragon Skin does this too, and whether or not it will be a problem.

Little Dragon Skin also scallops. (It would make a very nice scarf stitch for this reason). I am hoping that the two-inch hem facing, knit on smaller needles will help tame the scallops. I can't say for sure that it will. This may end up being one of those bugs that lives on as a design feature.

I'm almost up to the point where I will be unzipping the provisional cast on, putting those stitches on another needle and working them along with my main body stitches. In effect I'll be fusing my hem facing to eliminate the need for sewing it down later. I should be able to tell at that point if I like the effect.

Should I have taken the time to work all this out in the swatch before casting on for the main piece? Sure. Absolutely. Most sane people would have thought to do so. But I find knitting to be more exciting when you live dangerously, and I don't mind ripping back.

More goodies from the mailbag. Laura wrote:

I recently came across the Mary Francis Knitting and Crocheting Book. It is darling!? Even though the credits don't specify, I assume it's a reprint of a book originally written around 1920. Woven within the story are quite extensive photo demos of knitting and crochet, along with many patterns for doll clothes, and even Red Cross knitting patterns. The text of the book describes yarns as 2-fold, 3-fold or 4-fold, and appear to be referring to what we would call 'ply' today--though perhaps more in the UK style. The book then goes on to say that yarns are named Germantown Zephyr or Germantown Wool (4-fold or 8-fold), Knitting Worsted, Saxony Wool, Woolen Knitting Floss, Teazle Yarn, or Angora Wool. Would you have any info on what the modern equivalents of these might be?? Any references to point me toward?? I did a google search, but mostly came up with "Bear Brand Germantown Yarns," a few skeins of which have retired in my stash....It would seem that Germantown could refer to worsted weight or heavier (about a 3 or 4 in the modern number scheme trying to standardize the industry), Saxony might be more of a baby or sport weight (2ish, I suppose?) and Knitting Floss might be more like Shetland yarns--lace or baby/fingering weight (1 or 2ish, I'm thinking).

I know there are lots of people now interested in older knitting patterns - everything from ponchos published in the 1970s through the truly vintage stuff going back to the late 1800s. The older the book, the harder it can be to figure out how to make the garment using today's materials. Laura's problem is a very common one for anyone looking at these older patterns.

I can't claim to be?an expert on this?on this, but I have had a little bit of experience with legacy/historical patterns. From my limited exposure,?Laura's guesses are spot on.

For the yarns described in her book, Germantown's closest equivalent is true worsted (not just something within the group system 3 or 4 designation;?the group system being a lousy method yarn classification). The closest modern yarn is Cascade 220 - a 100% wool that knits at 5 stitches per inch. Many patterns call for that size yarn to be doubled. I've had good results?using either a true worsted, or even a lofty DK when the pattern calls for knitting with two strands.

Saxony was often used for baby items, knit on 15s or 16s. The modern needle size equivalent would be 00s or an size in between 00 and 000. I've had success substituting modern three-ply fingering or baby yarn. (4-ply fingering is standard sock weight, knitting at 28 stitches = 4 inches, 3-ply is lighter, usually knitting at 32 stitches = 4 inches.)? Perhaps Jamieson Shetland Spindrift might work, being lofty and able to be knit down to that gauge. Brown Sheep WildFoote is one of the lightest sock yarns around now that Kroy 3 Ply is discontinued. Froelich Wolle Special Blauband is also on the thin end of the fingering spectrum. Much thicker and denser but machine washable is Dale Baby Ull. Knit tightly it might work, but I think that the?Spindrift or Wildfoote?would have a more historically accurate look.

I also suspect that Knitting Floss is lace weight. Skacel Merino Lace might mage a good substitute.

Teazle, and Angora Wool are tougher. My suggestion would be to look at the needle size and gauge. Since most historical patterns don't give gauge, are sized fairly small and fit FAR tighter than modern ones, the best way to figure out gauge is to look at the stitch count around the wrist or cuff rather than around the chest. Fit on wrists don't change much, nor is ease generally a big factor there. Compare whatever you get to the wrist measurement of a modern piece - women's small, men's small, or children's about size 6 for post-baby garments. Using that measurement roughly estimate how many stitches per inch the piece had just above the ribbing.

I've been working on this chart for a while, collecting historical yarn names and modern gauge/needle size equivalents. Also some suggestions on possible modern yarns. I started with some needle size data abstracted from Lois Baker's highly useful comparative needle chart. Most of the historical yarn types I cite are from patterns before the 1930s. Note that these are not hard and fast categorizations, many yarns/needle sizes can slip up or down a peg. Also note that texture is difficult to match. I have no way of knowing if one yarn type was say,?closer in feel to Spindrift than it is to Regia. ?Feel free to attach corrections/additions in the comments. I'll update the chart body and put a link to it under 'Reference' at right.

Historical Needle Size	Modern Needle Size	Expected Gauge and Modern Yarn Type	Typical Historical Yarn Names	Possible Modern Substitutes (no guarantees)
	0.25mm	1 ply Cobweb wool Cotton thread
	0.5mm	1 ply Cobweb wool Cotton thread		Size 80 cotton
	0.75mm	1 ply Cobweb wool Cotton thread	Wool Floss Spool Cotton Knitting cotton
UK 19 US 18 Steel	1.0mm US #00000	1 ply Cobweb wool Cotton thread		Size 50-80 cotton Jamieson 1-Ply Cobweb Wool
US 17 Steel	1.125mm	1 ply Cobweb wool Cotton thread
UK 18 US 16 Steel	1.25mm US #0000	2 ply Lace weight Cotton thread	Berlin Wool Briggs Knitting Silk	Size 50 cotton Skacel Merino Lace
UK 17 US 15 Steel	1.5mm US #000	2 ply Lace weight Cotton thread	Berlin Wool, Andalusian Wool	Size 30 cotton Skacel Merino Lace Lorna's Laces Helen's Lace
UK 15 US 14 Steel	1.75mm US #00	3 ply Fingering Light Fingering 30-32 st = 4 in	Saxony, Shetland, Pompador, German Fingering, Alliance	Jamieson Shetland Spindrift, Brown Sheep Wildfoote, Dale Baby Ull (knit very tightly) Kroy 3-PlyMost of the lighter weight sock yarns
UK 14 US 13 Steel US 0 Standard	2mm US #0	3 ply Fingering Light Fingering 30-32 st = 4 in 4 ply Fingering 28-30 st = 4 in	Saxony, Zephyr,	Jamieson Shetland Spindrift; Kroy 3-Ply; Most of the lighter weight sock yarns
US 12 Steel	2.25mm US #1	3 ply Fingering Light Fingering 30-32 st = 4 in 4 ply Fingering 28-30 st = 4 in	Saxony, Zephyr, Cocoon	Jamieson Shetland Spindrift Kroy 3-Ply Dale Baby Ull (knit very tightly) Most of the lighter weight sock yarns Most standard sock yarns; Rowan 4 ply yarns
UK 13 US 1 Standard	2.5mm	4 ply Fingering 28-30 st = 4 in	Saxony, Beehive, Penelope	Most standard sock yarns; Rowan 4 ply yarns
UK 12 US 11 Steel US 2 Standard	2.75 mm US #2	4 ply Fingering 28-30 st = 4 in	Beehive, Peacock, Penelope	Most standard sock yarns; Rowan 4 ply yarns
UK 11 US 10 Steel US 3 Standard	3mm	4 ply Fingering 28-30 st = 4 in Lighter sport weights25-28 st = 4 in		Koigu; GGH Marathon; Zitron Libero
UK 10	3.25mm US #3	Sport weight 24 st = 4 inches		Louet Gems Opal Merino: Jaeger Matchmaker
US 9 Steel US 4 Standard		Sport weight 24 st = 4 inches		Louet Gems Opal Merino: Jaeger Matchmaker
UK 9 US 8 Steel US 5 Standard	3.75mm US #5	Gansey weight, 5-ply 23 st = 4 in	Jumper wool	Wendy Guernsey 5 Ply
UK 8	4mm US #6	DK weight 22 st = 4 inches	Germantown, Zephyr, Saxony doubled	Jaeger Matchmaker DK; Jo Sharp DK Wool; Most standard DK weight yarns; Most 4 ply fingering weights, doubled
US 6 Standard	4.25mm
UK 7	4.5mm US #7	Worsted 20 st = 4 inches	Germantown	Cascade 220
US 7 Standard	4.75mm
UK 6 US 8 Standard	5mm US #8	Heavy worsted 19 st = 4 inches Aran 18 st = 4 inches		Most standard Aran weight yarns; Most standard sport weight yarn, doubled
US 9 Standard	5.25mm
UK 5	5.5mm US #9	Aran 18 st = 4 inches
US 10 Standard	5.75mm
UK 4	6mm US #10	Light bulky 17-16 st = 4 in
UK 3 10.5 Standard	6.5mm US #10.5	Bulky 15-13 st = 4 in	Germantown doubled	Two strands of Cascade 220; Most standard worsteds, doubled
UK 2	7mm
UK 1	7.5mm
UK 0	8mm US #11	Bulky 15-13 st = 4 in Super bulky 12 or fewer st = 4 in
UK 00	9mm US #13	Superbulky 12 or fewer st = 4 in
UK 000	10mm US #15	Superbulky 12 or fewer st = 4 in
	12.5mm US #17
	15.5mm US #19
	19mm US #35

For yarns from the 1950s through 1970s, VintageKnits maintains a very useful guide to fiber content and actual gauges of specific yarn brand names. It's divided roughly by weight into several pages.

Interesting Question

Yesterday Marcia asked about the K2P2 rib I posted about. She wants to use it on a hat where the brim is worn folded up. She'd like to have the pattern visible on the flipped up part, and wants to have the twists on the hat body and brim oriented with the same leg on top.

I haven't tried this, but I think that if this stitch were worked two-sided - with crossings on both sides, Marcia's effect would be achieved. To do this you need to make it a six-row rather than a five row pattern. Marcia was also concerned with the leg direction, but if the thing is worked two-sided this way, when flipped up the reverse will display the cable twist crossings going in the same direction as the front. (Try it by making slash marks on both sides of?a piece of paper, then folding it.)

To do it flat, I'd work:

Cast on a multiple of 4 stitches

Round 1: (K2, P2), repeat
Round 2: (K2, P2), repeat
Round 3: (Right twist using this method: [K2tog, leaving unit on left hand needle. Re-insert right hand needle tip into stitch closest to end of left hand needle. Knit this stitch. Slip entire now-twisted two-stitch unit to right hand needle], p2), repeat
Round 4: (K2, P2), repeat
Round 5: (K2, P2), repeat
Round 6: (Right twist using this method: [K2tog, leaving unit on left hand needle. Re-insert right hand needle tip into stitch closest to end of left hand needle. Knit this stitch. Slip entire now-twisted two-stitch unit to right hand needle], p2), repeat

In the round I'd work:

Round 1: (K2, P2), repeat
Round 2: (K2, P2), repeat
Round 3: (Right twist using this method: [K2tog, leaving unit on left hand needle. Re-insert right hand needle tip into stitch closest to end of left hand needle. Knit this stitch. Slip entire now-twisted two-stitch unit to right hand needle], p2), repeat
Round 4: (K2, P2), repeat
Round 5: (K2, P2), repeat
Round 6: K2, (Right purl twist using this method: [Skip the first stitch but retain it on the left needle and?purl the second one, also retaining it on the left hand needle. Then purl?together both the skipped stitch and the second stitch and move the resulting two-stitch unit?to the right hand needle], repeat

Of course another way to deal with the problem is to knit the cuff area using the pattern as described yesterday. When it was deep enough, you'd add three rows of purls to make a welt (the fold line); then reverse direction and knit the cap part, using the opposite twist stitch wherever the original called to use one. That would put the right side of the cuff showing when folded up against the hat body.

Another Interesting Question

FeliciaSix says "Wow. Eyes. Monitor. Bright. Hurt. Why did you pick that most unsubtle of color combos for the Fingerless Whatevers?"

Because it's cold, dark and dreary in the winter and I wanted to wear the opposite.

Annoying Questions

None of them are worth repeating. Some days?I wish every computer came equipped to display this error message:

You can build your own error messages, too.

Something must be in the air, because several people have written to me this week asking if toe-up socks are more difficult than standard cuff-down socks, or if I could venture an opinion on how they fit and wore compared to cuff-down socks. Perhaps this is a product of all the people hoping to knit up one last holiday present before the end of the year. In any case, I'll try to answer.

Why Toe-Ups?

1. I detest doing that last boring slog from heel to toe, especially because I find all on-foot patterning to be uncomfortable inside my shoes, so my feet are always done in plain old stockinette. If I leave the feet for last I'll NEVER finish the socks. So I do them first, get them over with, and then have the fun of the patterned ankle part.

2. I'm not particularly fond of grafting. I can do it, but it's a pain. Toe-ups let me avoid that step.

3. I like being able to pause and slip the growing socks on to make sure the fit is perfect. That's easy with toe-ups.

4. I like not having to worry about yarn consumption. If I'm using 50g skeins, I knit the ankle part until I run out of yarn. If I'm using a 100g skein, I knit to the same length as another pair of socks, or if I want to eke out every inch, I put Sock #1 aside without binding it off, then knit Sock #2 on another set of needles. Once both are the same length, I'll finish off the ribbings side by side, one from either end of the ball, making sure that I use every scrap.

5. If I feel like using the two-circ method, my toe-ups with their short-rowed heels adapt with no fuss at all to that method.

Toe-Up Fit

Toe-ups with short rowed heels are narrower at the point where the ankle joins the foot than are standard heel flap/box heel socks. Some people, especially those with high insteps find them confining. I don't, even though I have BIG feet for a fem (recently remeasured to Euro 42/US 10.5EEE). If you feel this might be a problem, look for a toe-up pattern with an inverted standard heel rather than a short-rowed heel.

Ease of Working

I don't find toe-ups to be any more difficult than heel flap socks. In fact, I find them easier. Using the short-row heel and five needles, once I'm past the initial toe I ALWAYS have the same number of stitches on each needle - even during heel production. That makes it easy to put down and restart my socks. That's a good thing because socks are usually my briefcase project and get done in tiny spurts.

Many people complain about my favorite cast-on for toe-ups - the no-sew figure-8 toe. (It's Judy Gibson's, I'm just one of her sock disciples). They say it's too fiddly, or they can't get it to work, or it's too loose. To be fair, it IS fiddly, but it's worth it. The secret is letting that first row be miserably ugly and loose, but taking care not to split the yarn as it is worked. Once a couple of rounds have been established, it's very easy to go back and use a needle tip to snick up the looseness. A little care will work the looseness past the knot that forms at the base of the tail, and out from the sock to become part of the dangling end.

If you give up or just don't want to bother with the no-sew figure-8 toe, there are tons of other toe-up sock patterns out there that use different starting methods. Wendy has one. Or you can start with a provisional cast on, then go back and Kitchener darn the toe up later.

Look of Short Rowed Heels

Knitzanknitzanknitz asked about how short-rowed heels in self stripers look. Here are a couple of mine:



With a little care and willingness to make the sock a row or two longer/shorter you can plan your heels to miter on the breaks between the striper's color changes.

Sources for Toe Up Patterns

To be immodest - there are mine. wiseNeedle has toe up patterns for several gauges.

The toe-up pattern that started me off and running is by no-sew toe guru Judy Gibson. Wendy Johnson has a popular toe-up pattern, and there's another at Needletrax. There's a toe up tutorial at the Socknitters website, and Flor's got one as well. One of the oldest toe up patterns on the web was done by Manny Olds. Google on "toe up socks" for zillions more.

Still unplying.  Nothing much to report that's interesting on that front, so I turn to an old stand-by.  Yet another review of A Knitting Book that Time Forgot^TM.

This one is This is Knitting by Ethel Evans.  It was published in New York by Macmillan, and bears a copyright date of 1948.  Here's a typical page.

Evans book is clearly different from the Teenage Knitting book I wrote about earlier this week.  For starters, it's aimed at a general knitting audience, not one that's mostly high school and college aged.  It's divided more or less in half.  The first half presents about 40 knitting patterns for women, plus 20 each for babies, and men.  The second half of the book is a stitch dictionary, giving photos and directions for about 80 or so knitting standards, including knit/purl textures, simple cables, basic lace stitches, and even some tweedy linen stitch style colorwork.  There are no stitches in this collection that aren't also in either Walker 's First or Second Treasury. 

Directions are entirely in prose and like the other book, avoid confusing shorthand but are incomplete by modern standards.  Finishing directions are rudimentary at best "Press pieces, sew up."  Shaping isn't dealt with well.  Some photos of the adult garments clearly show more shaping than the pattern pieces as written will yield (perhaps judicious tailoring was done during sewing up, but that isn't mentioned).  Buttonhole placement isn't described at all, although directions for buttonholes follow some patterns.  I-cord trim used on some adult jackets is only hinted at, although it is clearly shown on the photos.

Some other odd things stand out about this book.  First, there are no patterns for kids garments between about two years of age and late adolescence (when they can wear grown-up stuff).  Second, the rudimentary how-to section is illustrated by flat photos of knitting on knitting needles - no hands holding them or in-process shots.  It's tough to see what is supposed to be happening in those photos.  My guess is that the how to section is just preaching to the choir.  I don't think the author ever intended for anyone to actually learn knitting from this book.  Maybe to use it as a refresher to remember skills learned long ago, but certainly not as a prime source of knowledge.

That being said, patterns here are more of the classics.  Simple cardigans, pullovers, jackets and vests, almost all with shoulder pads.  There are a couple of patterns written at worsted gauge (5spi); but most hover around 8spi.   Mens patterns are restricted to very conservative vests.  Even so, if you like fine gauge retro classic, you'll find several wide-ribbed, body hugging women's (and men's) pieces that might pique your interest.  

The two more valuable sections of the book are the baby patterns and the accessory patterns.  All of the baby knits are very simple, classic shapes that are wonderfully wearable today.  There are several layette sets with matching hats, sweaters, booties and mittens abound.  There is a surplice sweater plus several baby blankets that are particularly nice - the blankets being mostly the center panel in a texture stitch/wide garter or seed stitch border type.  All of the baby things are very simple in design, but again like the adult patterns, the write-ups aren't as detailed as new knitters might like.  Still, shapes and techniques are basic enough for an adventurous newbie to use this book, provided he or she is of the plunge-on-through mindset.   Sadly the copy I borrowed had several pages torn from the center of the baby pattern section, including the instructions for both the sweater and blanket I liked best.  (Death to the mutilators of library books!)

Accessories can be found throughout the thing.   There's a triangular head scarf that my daughter tells me would pass muster in her high school today.  Gloves, socks and mittens are here, too.  The glove patterns look especially nice.  There's one pair with triple cabled back I especially like.  One shortcoming - the argyle sock pattern in this book is severely simplified, and doesn't sport those nifty cross-hatchings that distinguish a true argyle from a plain old diamond pattern - probably because NO charts are used anywhere in the directions and the write-up on where to put all those single-stitch wide lines (or to position them using duplicate stitch) would have driven the copy editor mad.

Like most of these older books anyone trying to duplicate patterns will probably run into yarn substitution problems.  Looking at the list of yarns used in the book, my starting (and unswatched) swapping suggestions would be:

Yarn/typical gauge in book	Modern Substitute
Knitting Worsted/5-6spi	Modern DK weight wool, like  Heirloom Easy Care 8-ply
Germantown yarn/5spi	True worsted, like Cascade 220
Sport Yarn/7-8spi	Fingering weight wool (too many different styles of item use this in the book to peg it down to just one)
Shetland Floss	Light fingering weight wool, like Jamiesons Shetland Spindrift
3-ply Saxony/8spi	Easy care fingering weight baby wool.  Dale Baby Ull would work.
2-ply Saxony/10spi	Lighter weight fingering.  Patons Kroy 3-ply?  Brown Sheep Wildfoot? Regia 3-Ply?
2-Ply Angora/8spi	Fingering weight angora. Austermann Angora Wolle?
Sock yarn/8spi	Most modern sock yarns, Regia, Socka, Fortissima
Crochet cotton/9 spi knit	Modern cotton sock yarns. Fortissima Cotton, Regia Cotton

To sum up - not as useful nor as easy to follow as the Teenage Knitting Book.  This is Knitting has some items of note, especially in the baby section and for glove knitters, but other than those, the book is interesting more as a historical document than as a still-living instruction book.

Side question:  Do people find these reviews interesting or useful?  Does anyone else care about old books found in musty library stacks, or about knitting's recent history? 

I've noticed a spate of questions from newer knitters of late - via eMail, on wiseNeedle, in the mailing lists and in Live Journal forums - all asking about how to wind balls, or start skeins, or asking about the different yarn put-ups.  I thought I'd help.

Part I - Shapes of the Beast

Knitting yarn is sold in many different configurations.  Here are a few of the more common.

1.  Large amorphous glob.  Actually this is a hank or skein, similar to #6 and #7, but it's massive and rather shop-worn.  Like all hanks or skeins, it has to be rolled up into one or more balls before knitting can begin.  Examples:  Rainbow Mills Pebbles (shown); Schaefer Elaine and Miss Priss.

2.  A spool-like ball, with the yarn rolled around an inner form.  In this case, there's a large cardboard tube inside.  I've also seen yarns rolled around spongy centers and plastic foam cylinders.  I would not recommend long-term storage of yarn wound on cardboard for long periods (read 7+ years) because cardboard is acidic, and the yarn in the center might discolor or become brittle over time.  Spooled yarn can be knit as-is, without rewinding by finding the end and just starting.  The spools will skitter around a bit, so keeping them in a bag while you're working can be a good idea.  Some of the ribbon yarns sold on spools benefit from being unreeled toilet-paper-roll style instead of being pulled off the top while the spool sits on its flat end.  Doing so can minimize the number of twists as you work.   I sometimes use an improvised axle type arrangement for unreeling (more on this in another post).  Example:  Plymouth Colorlash (shown); Berroco Suede

3.  Cones.  The thinner machine knitting yarns are often sold on cones.  Sometimes you can find heavier yarns on cones, too - especially from mill-end shops.  Coned yarn can be a great buy because the maker didn't need to pay for the machines or labor to wind it off into balls or skeins.  Coned yarn can be knit as-is, although just pulling it off the top of the cone can also introduce twisting.  Some people prefer to unreel coned yarn using an axle set-up, or to wind the  yarn into balls.  While coned yarn also has a cardboard core, the high yardage on a cone means that relatively little of it is in direct contact with the yarn compared to the short yardage spool style balls.   If I thought a coned yarn (especially a white or light color yarn) might languish in my stash for a decade or more I might be tempted to wind it off into balls.  Example:  Classic Elite Believe - bought at the CE outlet in Lowell, MA (shown)

4.  Mushroom style puffballs, usually speared in the center by an arrow-ended tag.  I hate these.  They're always 50g, short yardage, and they appear to be among the most favored put-ups used by high end makers of expensive yarns.  They behave especially poorly on the shelf or in the stash, losing their tags and falling into floppy messes at the drop of a hat.  They can however be knit directly from the ball without rewinding.  Sometimes if your fingers are clever they can fish the tail end out of the center, and they can be used either as center-pull balls or from both ends at once.  Example:  Grignasco Top Print (shown): Debbie Bliss yarns; On Line Linie 157 - Tessa.

5. Log-style wound skeins.  These come in many sizes and price ranges.  The giant format here is most common among lower cost mass-market yarns.  The same format (but much smaller) is often found for more expensive yarns - notably European import cottons.  These log skeins do not need any preparation.  Most have both ends accessible on the outside, and can be knit from either end.  Examples:  Red Heart Super Saver (shown); Marks and Kattens Indigo Jeansgarn; Southmaid Cotton 8

6. and 7.  These are standard issue hank style skeins.  They are the most economical put-up for makers to use, and the most common among small producers and hand-dyers, although they exist across the entire spectrum of yarns.  Typically they're made from yarn that's been wound into a large diameter circle, then twisted a bit with one end inserted into the other.  It's easy to reduce them back to a single big circle.  While some people claim they can untie the little strands holding a hank together,  place it on the floor and knit directly from it - I wouldn't recommend the practice.  It sounds like an excellent opportunity to make a tangled mess.  Save your sanity.  Wind hanked yarn into balls before knitting from it.  [More on this in another post].  Examples:  Bartlett 2-Ply Worsted, Rowan Rowanspun 4-Ply (both shown)

8.  Wound cheeses without center cores.  Some yarn shops take coned or hanked yarn and wind it into these machine-assisted balls before selling it, often marketing the result as an in-store house brand.  If you buy an inexpensive ball winder you can make these, too.  Cheeses can be knit from either end and do not require rewinding before use.  Example:  Ball I made myself from Paternayan 3-ply

9.  Small logs.  These skeins are cousins of #5.  They can be used as-is from the outside end.  Very clever fingers can feel around the inside and pull out a glob to retrieve the inside end.  That way these logs can be used as center pull balls, too.  Example:  Lana Grossa Melienweit Fantasy; Schoeller/Stahl Socka/Fortissima

There are other put-ups out there, this is not the full roster of what's out there, but it's pretty representative. 

Why are there so many forms?  Why isn't everything sold knit-ready?  Mostly it boils down to economics.  Industry pals tell me that the machinery to make nice, neat ready-to-knit balls is expensive and hard to find.  It just isn't being made any more.  For example, I've heard tell that Classic Elite uses some winding machines that are upwards of 75 years old.  If one of those machines breaks beyond repair,  it can't be replaced.  They've had to reformat several of their yarns because of this problem. 

On top of the machinery issue, winding is labor-intensive.  Again, older machines require constant attention by operators, and using them is a multi-step process.  For the most part, the industry just doesn't have the volume of say a soda bottling plant.  Except for the very largest producers (Caron, Coats & Clark), all knitting yarn makers/distributors rely on a level of labor that's uncommon today.   Labor is expensive.  In an effort to minimize these costs, some makers have turned to less labor intensive put-ups, most notably selling in skein rather than in ball. 

The sticker shock factor is another force contributing to the multitude of different forms - especially the prevalence of 50g sales units.  Yarn is expensive.  I've seen people shy away from larger 4 ounce skeins with hefty price tags, yet buy the equivalent dollar amount of yarn marked at $5.50 per 50g ball.  That lower per-ball price is a very seductive thing, even if the same total purchase price was expended.  People also hate having to buy extra.  If yarn came in 200g skeins and the typical project required 275g, a knitter would end up having to buy 400g to complete it.  That's 125g more yarn than needed.  If the yarn came in 50g balls he or she would only have to buy 300 g - only 25g more than necessary.  That overage translates to added cost and decreases the chance that the purchase will be made.

Does form factor influence purchase choices in general?  I'd have to say yes.  It does influence some people.  I know several knitters who flat out refuse to wind hanks.  They won't buy any yarn that's not ready to knit.  On the other hand, I also know several that won't touch a balled yarn, preferring to knit from yarns that come in hanks (I think there's a snob factor here - they believe that all hanked yarn is superior to all balled yarn, although we all know that blanket statement "alls" are rarely true). 

I can also point to one yarn that's a business-case poster child for the psychology of put-up influencing yarn purchase.  That's Classic Elite Wings.  Although there are no reviews yet, it's a nice yarn - a classic finish alpaca/silk/wool blend that's soft and comes in attractive colors.  It's relatively pricey, but no more so than other soft alpaca blends of similar weight.  I saw it on the shelf at my LYS but noticed that people would pick it up yet buy other yarns instead.  So I asked why.  It turns out that the new format CE was trying out - sort of a hank folded in thirds and wrapped around the middle with a paper ball band -looked floppy and small compared to other yarns of the same weight/fiber/yardage.  Those yarns came in happy little fat balls.  They may have been the same 50g and within a yard or two of the Wings, but that wasn't evident from the put-up.  The balls plain old LOOKED bigger, even though they weren't.  Buyers were choosing the other yarn not because of color or price, but because they thought the balls were better buys.

Does form factor influence my own purchases?  Generally not.  I detest the mushroom ball, but if the yarn is attractive enough and priced right, I'll buy it and use it.  I do admit non-rationality in that  I always feel rooked when a big, beautiful, squishy ball ends up being a thin veneer of yarn on a big, fat, sponge center, even if I've studied the per-ball yardage and know exactly how much I'm getting.  I don't mind winding hanks into balls.  I figure that having to do so myself is saving me around 75 cents per skein; or is part of the entrance price for getting to use a custom-dyed or artisanal yarn. 

I've noticed a few posts on the various lists, blogs and forums all asking about stitches by name, either requesting help in finding a particular one, or discussing how sometimes multiple patterns share a name, or one pattern is known by many. I ramble on as the dilletante I am -?with nothing to back up these theories other than noting certain similarities of name and pattern in dozens of stitch guides and publications going back to the 1800s.

Knitting texture pattern names are far from standard. Yes, it's true that some stitches have more than one name, and that some names are associated with more than one stitch. There's little point in arguing about which is the "true" Old Shale stitch. In one part of the world the exact size of the repeat, proportion of garter to openwork, and depth of the scallops is clearly defined and agreed to by the knitting community. In another, the name is loosely attached to a family of stitches. And in other areas there's no differentiation made between Old Shale and Feather and Fan.

The same thing goes for the seed stitch/moss stitch debate. I've seen all three?graphs below called variants of seed or moss stitch (empty squares are knits, dashed squares are purls).

Most commonly, ?#1 is seed and?#2 is moss. But others identify #1 as seed, and #2 as double seed. Some people call #1 seed, but call #3 double seed. In still others #2 is double moss, and #1 is moss, and #3 is broken rib.Confusing, isn't it?? Get 10 knitters in?room and I'm sure you'll come up with multiple names for these three.

And there's also the Shaker Rib/Fisherman Rib/English Rib naming overlap used to?confound people who want to work one of these deeply textured but simple stitches (all employ knitting into a stitch in the row below).

Why is this?

Well, as close as I can figure, in part it's because knitting is a?relatively new craft. Crochet even more so (more on this tomorrow). Written patterns or guides for doing it are even newer. Exhaustive books on how to embroider were written in the 1700s; modelbooks describing how to stitch and offering up designs date back to the dawn of publishing in the early 1500s. But the earliest pattern books that specifically mention knitting don't cover texture variations in specific. They offer up simple graphed repeats that can be used for colorwork or knit/purl textures. It isn't until much later that anyone began trying to describe the creation of a manipulated texture in a manner that others could reproduce it (early-mid 1800s?). So until that point, without a written record to nail terminology flat and make sharing those terms across wide areas, regional/cultural variations in naming remained regional. It wasn't until knitters began running into knitters from other regions either in person or through published works that they began to notice that terminologies differed.

Although knitting posesses a vast amount of possiblities for texture formation, some patterns appear to have been either invented or popularized in multiple areas. We can't say for?sure where many particular textures/stitches first developed,?or what name should have the right of primogeniture. ?Perhaps?dissemination was by chance - ?some adventurous traveller wore a pair of socks featuring a particular design, and that design was admired in the area he or she ended up in. Local knitters loved the novelty and reproduced it. In a generation an introduced pattern could easily loose its association with the ultimate origin and become "Grandma's Clock" and be considered native.

Most of our modern names for stitches come from three (now four) stitch dictionaries compiled by Barbara Walker. She collected stitch directions, corrected them, classified them, and named them. Although there had been stitch pattern collections published before, no one had ever attempted?to unertake the task in?such a comprehensive manner.Remember though that even?though she was a pioneer,?Walker wasn't working in a vacuum. She did invent many patterns (notably in slip stitch knitting and lace), but she also mined earlier works including 19th century ladies' magazines, books,?and needlework leaflets put out prior to the 1960s. She?even gathered up submissions sent to her after the publication of her first book.

Walker's?format required that each stitch have a name. Sometimes she adopted the name of a pattern in an earlier source, or used the name by which the stitch was known to her. Sometimes if more than one name was current she noted that fact. In other places she supplied a name where one was lacking or was misleading (you can't have fifteen textures all named Chevron Stitch in the same book).

Walker's treasuries are so influential that her names are becoming increasingly ubiquitous. In many cases though, they conflict with names steeped in local traditions. Therefore alternative names and confusion still persist. Plus although four massive encyclopedias of stitches contain lots and lots of individual patterns - there are whole areas of knitting they touch only very lightly. The lace patterns used in Shetland knitting are?sparsely covered compared to the in-depth treatment they get in specialty books. Those specialty books offer up the texture/lace pattern names used by people with a direct heritage of Shetland knitting.

Then there's a further layer of complication. There are no Knitting Police. No one enforces use of any common set of terms. We barely have concurrence on things a simple as increase/decrease (narrow/widen); cast off (bind off); and gauge (tension). Anyone can publish a pattern or stitch guidebook that uses an entirely unique set of names. L. Stanfield sidestepped this issue by using only numbers to identify the original texture patterns in her?book. And marketers, especially those writing clothing catalogs?often pick names out of thin air because 1) they don't know knitting or crochet (or many times the difference between the two); and 2) they use what they thing will sell, not what might be an accurate descriptor.

So there's one person's over-long ramble. Stitch names aren't standard. They spring from many sources, and have only recently been codified, classified and named.Names are moving towards a greater degree of standardization, but they're not there yet and will probably never be. Live with it.

Several people asked how I was going to go about un-plying my three-strand Paternayan yarn. Siince I need to do it to swatch, here's how I plan on doing it.

You can see the skein as the maker intended, set up on my swift. I've got my ball winder out, too. I usually don't bother with it unless I'm?dealing with?lace or fingering weight yarn (that's more yardage than I've got stamina for hand-winding). This time however I need it as an extra pair of hands. In fact, ideally I'd have an extra-extra pair of hands.

The plan is to let the skein of yarn spin freely on the swift, while I?take up two plies on the ball winder, and ball up the remaining ply by hand. Now you can see why a friend or biddable child to turn the crank on the ball winder would be a great convenience. As it is, I have to advance a bit on the machine-aided ball, then catch up to myself on the hand-wound single ply ball. All the while, I have to go gently, untwisting and untangling whenever things get too bound up. This is why I'd only attempt this foolhardy maneuver with a yarn as loosely constructed as this one. Even so the sharp-eyed can spot the stuff twisting back on itself just a bit at the point where the one ply is split off the main strand.

O.K. Now when I've finished, I'll have a neat machine-wound little core sample of two-ply yarn, plus a hand-wound ball of one-ply. How to turn the one-ply back into a two-ply?? Simple. I repeat the paring down process on the other skein of yarn, then I place both skeins on the floor or in a box (I've heard that cutting the bottom of soda bottles and threading the strand through the neck works wonders). Then I use my ball winder to draw on both at the same time. Minor complication - the variegated won't match up in color across both plies. I'll just treat it as another color of variegated, and isolate it in its own stripes or other pattern segment.

Since my original yarn was really just paired rather than twisted together, I don't think I really need to do a proper twisted plying on my newly formed composite. Of course there may be spinners out there recoiling in horror at this process and half-assed advice. I can envision them ready to leap forward with?sage interjections to save us all and teach us proper plying. I stand open to their suggestions.

I was showing something about twisted stitches to a knitting pal the other day, and I thought that other knitters might like to see it too.  I know that  I've discussed them here before as part of the post about knitting backwards, but I'll recap.

Twisted stitches are made when you knit or purl into the back as opposed to the leading leg of an existing stitch.  Sometimes people make them inadvertently when they work a stitch as usual, but that stitch was mounted with the leading leg behind the needle:

The person I was working with does exactly what my mother does - forming stitches so that she routinely ending up with leading legs behind after working a knit row, then untwisting the stitch on the purl row.  If mom is working stockinette in the flat, the final product looks like everyone else's knitting, but if she's working stockinette in the round, they end up with all twisted stitches because there are no purl rows on which to de-twist.  My knitting pal was having the same problem.  We worked on being able to tell the difference between legs in front and legs behind so that she could choose to either compensate or alter her technique.   While learning to recognize and compensate is certainly a good solution, it is a limiting one.  To this day my mom prefers knitting in the flat and working intarsia to knitting in the round or doing texture patterns.  She especially dislikes texture patterns that do not include rows of plain purling in between the rows in which other manipulations occur.  With no plain purl rows to un-discombobulate her stitches, she runs into that same twisting problem.

But twisted stitches aren't entirely bad.  Sometimes there's good reason to make them. They're great decorative accents, and have structural uses as well.  I happen to like using twisted stitches in my work.  In terms of structure, I find them particularly useful for working ribbing on cottons, silks and linens because they are a bit firmer than regular knit stitches, and help the ribbings in those fibers keep their shape between washings.  That firmness and crispness of line is also a great tool to use in surface decoration.  Here's an example from a pattern available on wiseNeedle.

The pattern is for a lacy blouse with a wide vee neck and clingy fit.  The combo of the diagonal lines of openwork and the vertical ribs makes it especially flattering to the zaftig among us.  Here the firmness of the twisted stitches is put to use making the cotton yarn hold its ribbed, body-hugging shape.  Also the verticals formed by the twisted ribbing really stand out.  I chose to do them synchopated, so that the K2, P2 ribs don't line up after they've been intersected by the eyelet diagonal.  That movement of line makes the piece more lively, with a more interesting total surface effect.  (Or so I think.)

Here's another nifty use for twisted stitches.  In this case, I can take credit only for execution.  The pattern is from Reynolds, and was put out around four years ago in a summer book for their Saucy Sport yarn.  Look at the nifty way the twisted stitches are used to make the lobster's outlines, feet, feelers, and to differentiate the textures of the filled-in areas in head, body, tail, and claws.  All in all, a very clever design:

Apologies both for the quality of the photo, and for the wear-and-tear on the lobster.  This is one of my favorite summer sweaters, and he's no longer fresh from the trap. 

What yarn are these two samples knit in?  It so happens that I used the same yarn for both.  It's Silk City Spaghetti, a cotton sport-weight woven tape, now long discontinued.  I love this stuff, and even though it does shrink in the wash (my lobster sleeves are now about an inch too short), I'd buy it in a flash were I to find it still available.  I do have enough left over from my cones of the khaki and paprika that I might be able to do a shell out of each.  Or if I could countenance the resulting color combo, combine them in some sort of a two-tone piece.  The jury is still out on the color combo thing.

Another in-absentia post. This one reports progress as of 1 July. Again sorry to be not here.

Crochet in General

Crochet is not a dirty word. I know there's an ongoing friendly rivalry between knitters and crocheters, but I think the two crafts aren't mutually exclusive. In fact, I teach a one-day workshop entitled "Crochet for Knitters" offered sporadically at my LYS and to local guilds (when scheduling allows). It covers basic crochet techniques, then veers off to cover techniques of special use:

• Crocheted chain cast-on, both free and done onto a knitting needle
• Crocheted buttons and button loops
• Simple crocheted edge treatments, including the dreaded Shrimp Stitch (reverse single crochet)

Crochet and knitting do produce fabrics with very different properties. Knitting by nature makes the thinnest, most flexible non-woven textile possible from a strand of yarn - loops are single-thickness, and lie as flat as possible. Given yarn and needles of equivalent size, crochet produces a much thicker, heavier, denser fabric - multiple loops drawn through each other form the basic stitch unit. Knitting has an elasticity and drape that no crochet can equal (again given equivalent weight yarn and needles).

On the other hand, crochet has its own set of advantages. For the most part, it lies flat compared to knitting - especially to stockinette knitting. It produces a very durable, stable fabric. It's also less constrained to "typewriter" row-based production (back and forth or round and round on a single plain of work). This makes things like relief work (think Irish Crocheted Lace), and 3-D freeform production possible. The learning curve for basic technique is also less steep. Crochet has only one basic movement - hooking a loop and pulling through another loop. Knitting has several?- forming knits, forming purls, and their several variants.

I learned to crochet long, long?before I learned how to knit. Like knitting, I taught myself from a book.I was around 7 when I?began making odd little squares with no particular use in mind, ?but I was a strange kid who read early and liked sitting quietly and making things.Knitting by contrast I didn't pick up seriously until after college graduation. ?One of the reasons I found Continental style knitting easy and natural was that I was already well schooled in holding and tensioning thread or?yarn with my left hand, an artifact of this previous experience. In fact, I believe that people having problems learning Continental style might benefit from a brief side-trip to crochet because doing so would acustom them to this skill.

Crochet has many forms. The ones I favor are the finer styles of cotton crochet, done with threads of various thicknesses. Although I did quite a bit of it before learning how to knit, I no longer do much large-gauge crochet with yarn heavier than fingering weight. I find the resulting fabric too thick and stiff for most uses. Afghans, hats and bags are the exception, although I much prefer the airy drape of knitted blankets to the heft of crocheted ones. Hats and bags however can benefit from the additional?weight and structure. Note that I do not recommend fulling or felting crochet. I've never had a good result doing so, probably because I've never hit upon the right ratio of working looseness that would give the yarn enough room to shrink evenly.

A final note on crochet - I get lots of questions at wiseNeedle on how to go about converting a knitted pattern to a crocheted one. Although books have been written on the subject, my answer is usually "with difficulty, and probably not successfully with the original yarn specified in the pattern."? This goes back to basic stitch structure. For a piece of crochet to have anything like the same drape as a piece of knitting, it has to be made from a much thinner yarn. A knitting pattern written for worsted weight yarn cannot be crocheted in worsted weight yarn with the same result. I'd use a fingering weight yarn, light sport at the absolute heaviest. Then I'd draft out a pattern schematic from the original design, do a crocheted swatch, and re-draft all of the required pieces based on the gauge of that swatch. There are no short-cuts or magic formulae, just plain old trial and error and calculation.

Filet of Dragon

For all of crochet's free-form possibilities, filet crochet is the most row-oriented form of the craft. Filet takes a graphed design, and interprets it in open mesh and worked mesh squares - sort of like net with some of the holes filled in. As I think I mentioned before, this is an aesthetic that dates back a long time, with several different crafts called into service to do it over the years. There are forms of darned netting and grounds, withdrawn thread work, and freeform needle lace that all produce roughly similar filled/unfilled box-based patterns. Crochet is the most recent, and (having tried most of the others), I can say?the fastest method developed so far.

Filet crochet production marches across a graph row by row. Reading charts for filet production is very much like reading a chart for stranded knitting done in the flat. You begin at the lower right hand corner, work across the first row right to left, then on the next row, return by reading across in the opposite direction. Filet crochet though exacting is a very easy technique. There are several excellent on-line tutorials. This one is my favorite. There are also quite a few filet pattens on line, but any design that can be graphed up on a grid using two values (open and filled squares) can be used.

All this being said, here's the progress on my filet curtain panel:

The 4.3 rows shown represent about three hours of work. I'm a much slower crocheter than I am a knitter, as unlike knitting, I have to actually watch my fingers to ensure the stitches are formed correctly and are in the right spot. The piece is about 17 inches across. The dragon panel will happen in the center, with mirrored strips of a vine-like edging at top and bottom. The safety pins mark the transition point between the dragon panel and the framing vines.

I'm getting?a bit more than 5?meshes per inch using a 1.15mm Bates hook and Size 30 thread (thicker than sewing thread, but not as thick as perle cotton or bakery string). Each open mesh is formed by a double crochet followed by two chains (the next mesh forms the other leg of the box); each filled mesh is formed by three double crochets (again the first DC of the next mesh completes the box). For UK visitors, read treble instead of double crochet here, as for some reason terminology differs on the two sides of the pond.

My intent during this blogging hiatus is to keep plugging away on this thing. My curtain panel is about 30 inches wide x 17 inches tall. I'm working across the shorter dimension to save sanity. Once the panel is done, I need to go back and add another couple of rows top and bottom with larger holes through which the curtain rods will be inserted. I want to block out the piece before I do so, as the width between my curtain rods is fixed. Adding on these strips after the main motifs are completed will allow me to do any late course corrections to ensure a snug and proper final fit.

A final word - as I was starting out on this project I received some very valuable advice on filet crochet from a good friend and needlework buddy?of long acquaintence. Kathryn Goodwyn may or may not be reading this blog, but if she is - ten thousand thanks!? My dragon would not be crawling out from under his rock without you. (Kathryn is an exacting?researcher and needlework/historical clothing?re-creator. Her?favorite sig line "Too many centuries, too little time," which says?quite a bit?about the breadth of her interests and expertise.)

A couple of weeks ago when I wrote about charting knitted texture patterns, a couple of people were curious about Aran Paint, one of the lesser-known programs I mentioned.  Here's an example of what it does.

I'm starting with a twisted stitch texture pattern in Baulerches Stricken 1 by Lisa Fanderl.  This is the first volume in a set of three German language knitting books that present traditional knitting patterns gathered from various regions of the country.  This series is certainly interesting, but as with many stitch treasuries, presents the patterns using its own rather ideosyncratic notation and symbol set.  In this case, the pattern is shown using plain old typeset characters, some linked with bars to indicate the direction of the twisted or cabled stitches.  I've played with some of the textured and lacy patterns from this series, but to work with a minimum of fuss, I usually had to re-graph them first. 

This particular pattern is shown on p. 129  It's a simple 10-stitch wide panel, and features some twisted knit stitch ribbing manipulated to look like a series of bells connected by chain links.  I'm afraid I don't have my swatch or a knitted sample, but this did look quite nice run as panels up the front of a baby sweater, close together in the upper bodice area, and set progressively further apart by an increasing number of stockinette stitches towards the lower edge.

Here are the results of graphing with Aran Paint:

Screen shot of mock-up

Final Graph

The program also produced this set of prose instructions as a text file (it also outputs the same material in HTML):

AranPaint-BS1-129a.ara    (10 Stitches  x  26 Rows)
Repeat these 26 rows for the length required.
Row 1: K1, T2F, P1, K2, P1, T2B, K1.
Row 2: P1, K1, P1, K1, P2, K1, P1, K1, P1.
Row 3: K1, P1, T2F, K2, T2B, P1, K1.
Row 4: P1, K2, P4, K2, P1.
Row 5: K1, P2, K4, P2, K1.
Row 6: P1, K2, P4, K2, P1.
Row 7: K1, P2, K4, P2, K1.
Row 8: P1, K2, P4, K2, P1.
Row 9: K1, P2, K4, P2, K1.
Row 10: P1, K2, P4, K2, P1.
Row 11: K1, P2, K4, P2, K1.
Row 12: P1, K2, P4, K2, P1.
Row 13: K1, P2, T2F, T2B, P2, K1.
Row 14: P1, K3, P2, K3, P1.
Row 15: K1, P3, C2F, P3, K1.
Row 16: P1, K3, P2, K3, P1.
Row 17: K1, P2, T2B, T2F, P2, K1.
Row 18: P1, K2, P1, K2, P1, K2, P1.
Row 19: K1, P2, K1, P2, K1, P2, K1.
Row 20: P1, K2, P1, K2, P1, K2, P1.
Row 21: K1, P2, K1, P2, K1, P2, K1.
Row 22: P1, K2, P1, K2, P1, K2, P1.
Row 23: K1, P2, T2F, T2B, P2, K1.
Row 24: P1, K3, P2, K3, P1.
Row 25: K1, P3, C2F, P3, K1.

You can see that the thing is certainly useful, but that it has its limitations.

• The program doesn't include twisted stitches (like knit one through back of the loop).  All of the original pattern's knits are twisted, but I couldn't show that on my version.  YOs and eccentric cable crossings also aren't included.
• AranPaint includes its own "artificial intelligence" that prevents one from graphing only every other row, or from placing a cable unit such that it commences on an even numbered row.  For example, if you're working in the round and want to move one stitch over on two succeeding rounds without a plain round between them, you can't graph it in AranPaint.
• Symbol keys or glossaries don't print at the same time as the pattern.  While that's not a big deal, and you can retrieve the keys from the publisher's website, doing so is a pain and means an extra trip through cut-and-paste land.
• You can't easily get output for the mock-up I show at left above.  To do this, I had to open AranPaint, take a screen capture, edit the capture down for size in Visio, save it as a *.jpg, then use Macromedia Fireworks to trim the resulting *.jpg down to something that is web-manageable.
• There's no undo function beyond "remove last stitch."
• Moving elements can be a pain, as there is no drag and drop.

All of these limitations being said, the program is still quite handy.  Although I usually use my Visio template system for most "hard core" graphing, I do enjoy doodling with AranPaint, then having the resulting piece turned into an editable texture pattern.  Here's one of my doodles:

and the prose version:

AranPaint-doodle.ara    (9 Stitches  x  36 Rows)
Repeat these 36 rows for the length required.
Row 1: P2, C5R, P2.
Row 2: K2, P5, K2.
Row 3: P2, K1, C3B, K1, P2.
Row 4: K2, P5, K2.
Row 5: P2, K1, C3B, K1, P2.
Row 6: K2, P5, K2.
Row 7: P2, C5R, P2.
Row 8: K2, P5, K2.
Row 9: P1, T2B, K3, T2F, P1.
Row 10: K1, P1, K1, P3, K1, P1, K1.
Row 11: T2B, P1, C3R, P1, T2F.
Row 12: P1, K2, P3, K2, P1.
Row 13: T2F, T2B, K1, T2F, T2B.
Row 14: K1, P2, K1, P1, K1, P2, K1.
Row 15: P1, C2B, P1, K1, P1, C2F, P1.
Row 16: K1, P2, K1, P1, K1, P2, K1.
Row 17: P1, T3F, K1, T3B, P1.
Row 18: K2, P5, K2.
Row 19: P2, C5R, P2.
Row 20: K2, P5, K2.
Row 21: P2, K1, C3B, K1, P2.
Row 22: K2, P5, K2.
Row 23: P2, K1, C3B, K1, P2.
Row 24: K2, P5, K2.
Row 25: P2, C5R, P2.
Row 26: K2, P5, K2.
Row 27: P1, T2B, K3, T2F, P1.
Row 28: K1, P1, K1, P3, K1, P1, K1.
Row 29: T2B, P1, C3R, P1, T2F.
Row 30: P1, K2, P3, K2, P1.
Row 31: T2F, T2B, K1, T2F, T2B.
Row 32: K1, P2, K1, P1, K1, P2, K1.
Row 33: P1, C2B, P1, K1, P1, C2F, P1.
Row 34: K1, P2, K1, P1, K1, P2, K1.
Row 35: P1, T3F, K1, T3B, P1.
Row 36: K2, P5, K2.

Before you write and ask, remember - symbols and abbreviation sets used in AranPaint write-ups and graphs can be found here.

I was re-graphing this rabbit from my book of embroidery patterns, and I thought angora-fanciers might like to work it into a headband or sweater front. 

The original plate from 1597 showed a large group of animal motifs clustered together to save space.  It included this one, two coursing dogs (possibly greyhounds) a squirrel, an owl, a stag, a unicorn, a parrot, a yale, and the lion I previously shared for Gryffindor pullovers.

I was playing around with I-cord last night, in part because I've decided to re-think the Entrelac piece (I'm going to do the vertical strips thing, as an entire front of unbroken entrelac in my size boded to make me look like the backside of an enormous poison arrow frog).

I'm sure I'm not the first one to do this, but given recent explorations on knitting edgings onto things, and to attaching I-cord to terminal stitch edges (like in the poncho); I wanted to see if I could do I-cord attached to a vertical edge.  I fooled around a bit and came up with this sample:

I apologize for the blurry pix.  I had better luck knitting the sample than I did in photgraphing it. 

This piece is ten stitches wide.  It has I-cord at both the left and right edges, knit at the same time as the two-stitches of garter in the center.  Here's what I did:

Cast on 10
Row 1:  K6, bring the yarn to the front without making a loop on the needle; slip 4 stitches purlwise
Repeat Row 1, making sure to pull the first stitch especially tightly to create the I-cord effect

I could have done something similar to create a double I-cord strip for the poncho, had I started with 8 stitches, and done K4, slip 4.

As is at 10 stitches wide, this sort of strip might be useful for someone making belts or bag handles.  It would work well fulled to make a wider bag handle than standard I-cord.   I need to experiment more, but I think that if I started out with 12 stitches (4 for each edge, plus 4 for the center), I might be able to do some order swapping to make a braided cable.

But there's no reason to stop there.  I happen to detest the loose, flabby edges on most simple scarves and blankets.  The next time I knit a scarf or blanket, I'm going to figure in four stitches on each side.  I'll begin each row with four knits, and slip the last four stitches purlwise.  I'll need to experiment more to see if this sort of thing tames Dreaded Stockinette Curl (I rather doubt it), but I think it would be a nifty edge treatment none the less.

Thank you to everyone who wrote with hints on how to tame the entrelac beast!

I mentioned wanting to introduce shaping into my garment, and Jaya (of extensive modular knitting experience) suggested I plan on changing the size of the entrelac blocks in those areas.  She says she uses either extra decreases or increases to alter the size of individual modules as required and then restores them to their original shape after the need for the width alteration has passed. (You can see some of Jaya's killer work in her picture album).   She also suggested I look at Annabelle Dawson's entrelac sock pattern because that uses entrelac diamonds of different sizes to change the diameter of the total piece.

Debbi sent in some thoughts about yardage consumption.  She said that the entrelac front of Oat Couture's Tuxedo Vest used less yardage than she would have expected, so I shouldn't worry about not having enough yarn.  Just in case, I'll do the front of my project first.  I can always do plain stockinette for the back. 

As to what that thing will be, I'm not sure yet, but I didn't let that stop me from casting on.  I did the math on my gauge swatch, and cast on 138 stitches.  I'm working the short-row method for the foundation row of triangles, as per Carol Wyche's Untangling Entrelac article (great resource!).

I'll do a couple of courses then begin to think about trimming out a small bit of bulk to make a nip-in at the waist.  Not much, but enough to avoid an overly boxy sillhouette.  I haven't decided on much for the upper body.  I'm thinking square neckline.  I've got an Elizabethan shape, so they work well on me, plus it should be easier to do a square neckline than a Vee in entrelac.  We'll see how much yarn I end up having left over for sleeves.  I'm open to anything from "just barely" to three-quarters.  Which brings me to my big learning experience of the day:

Backwards We Will Be Knitting

The most commonly repeated hint I ran across was that given the back-and-forth nature of entrelac, life would be less cumbersome if one learned to knit backwards - from left to right.  That way the little entrelac gobbets could be done without the need to flip the work over.  Given the fact that I'll be doing LOTS of 6-stitch wide gobbets, I thought I'd play with it.

Since the whole idea of knitting backwards is to minimize all interruptions in the flow of stitch formation, I decided I didn't want to switch the hands in which I was holding my yarn.  That means I'd be going forward in my usual Continental style, but heading back doing some left-handed variant on English/throwing style.

Now, I'm a Continental knitter to the bone.  I've done contrasting colors in using throwing, mostly back before I learned to hold both colors in the same hand while stranding.  I've also taught others to do it, and in a pinch can demonstrate most techniques in it for people who have problems seeing what I do and translating it to their way.  But it's not my method of choice, and certainly far from a habit that's become hard-wired for me (I knit Continental exclusively when I dream about knitting.  What?  you don't dream about knitting? Hmmm....)  At this point, I have to think hard to knit properly using throwing.

I killed most of yesterday playing with different ways of wrapping the yarn and forming the stitches.  First forwards, then backwards - sometimes both at once on two different sets of needles so I could see where I was going wrong.  I will say that if you want to experiment with this, there are two knitting basics of which you must be aware.  First, make sure you're familiar with the difference between stitches mounted on the needle with their leading legs in front, and stitches mounted with their leading legs behind:

The leg in front orientation is the most common.  It's the expected orientation against which 99.999% of knitting patterns are written.  There are exceptions of course.  People who knit Eastern Uncrossed like my mom alternate orientations between knit and purl rows, but they knit into the back of their stitches when working stockinette so that they avoid making twisted stitches.   The second thing to recognize is whether or not the way you are forming a stitch will  produce a normal U-shaped stitch, or a twisted one.  (The twisted ones look like toddlers-in-training postponing the inevitable.)

Recognize these knitting basics and experiment with different ways of wrapping the yarn and making stitches so you know what combo of stitch entry and yarn looping produces each effect.  That will make it easier to figure out what's happening when you try to knit backwards.  It took quite a few passes before I was able to produce normal untwisted/leading-leg-forward stitches. 

What I ended up doing was keeping my yarn in the left hand, exactly as I usually hold it.  I took my left hand needle tip and put it into the stitch to be knit, from front to back, as if I were knitting through the back of the stitch (pretty much what my Mom does when she makes a knit stitch, but from left to right instead of right to left).  Then I used my yarn-holding index finger to wrap my yarn down over the left-hand needle tip.  I then used the right-hand needle to lift the old stitch over the newly made loop, dropping it off the end of the needle.  Voila!  One backwards-knit knit stitch.   I apologize for not having pix, but I'm alone right now and without growing several new appendages, I can't photograph and knit at the same time.

Needless to say I'm kitten-clumsy on this, and have nothing like the speed with which I can knit in the normal orientation.  But after working across my entire short-rowed  set of edge triangles, it doesn't feel as abjectly alien as it did last night.

I continue to make progress on my two at-hand projects. 

Lacy Scarf

I finished the center strip of the lacy scarf on Saturday night.  The center strip took almost one entire skein of the hand-spun lace weight Merino.  That rate of consumption put the last stake in the heart of my first choice of edging (with minimal modifications).  I did't think I would have had enough yarn to do one that wide. 

So as I predicted, it was back to the drawing board.  I spent my knitting time on Sunday and Monday messing around with stitch dictionaries both hard-copy and on-line, using the little bit of yarn leftover from Skein #1, swatching out possibilities.  Disappointment.  Overall, I felt like a cable TV viewer - I've had hundreds of choices, but nothing to watch. 

I started with several possiblities from books, then tinkered with them.  I even drafted up a couple ideas from scratch.  I wanted to use diagonals and/or diamonds to mirror the motifs on the scarf end.  The thing should be rather demonstrative as the bulk of the body is so plain.  I needed my edging to be no wider than 12-14 stitches at its widest point.  A sawtooth or point detail would make going round the corner easier.    

After extensive fiddling with dozens of patterns  (enough to actually wear out my short length of practice yarn from all the knitting up and ripping back), I cycled back to my original pick.  It had the best combo of diagonals and I liked the balance of opage to openwork areas.   All that effort wasn't lost though.  What practice did do was give me a better feel for how patterns can be changed around.  My initial efforts at modifying the pattern book original were pretty tame - taking out a small insertion detail.  This last time I chopped it right in the middle of a vertical pattern element, narrowing the thing down by half.  As you can see, it's working:

Stitch counts on the eding range from 10 to 15 (the body by contrast is 27 stitches wide, but because it's a ribbing, it looks narrower than that).  

To attach my edging, I'm using the same pull-a-loop method employed in the Forest Path Stole.  It's fussy, but it makes a very airy join, with no heavy column of attachment stitches.  I will work from the point shown, rounding the first corner to the center of the end.  Then I'll weigh my remaining yarn.  That should give me a handle on yarn consumption.  If I've used more than a quarter, I'll rip back and slash another three columns from the edging's repeat, then begin again.

Fulled Pillow II

The fulled pillow went through five wash/tumble dry cycles over the weekend, keeping company with the family's regular laundry.  I didn't expect much in terms of total shrinkage.  I've used this yarn before and it takes quite a few tries before it's sufficiently de-lanolined to full.

It did start to fuzz up around Wash #3.  I can still see garter stitch ridges, but the individual stitches are getting harder to spot.  The pillow has also begun to get denser, and a small bit of shrinkage has occurred, but it's not worth photographing yet. 

Original dimensions were 26 x 14 inches (66 x 36 cm).  Right now it's roughly 23 x 13.5 inches (58.4 x 35 cm).  I do note that the yellow stripes account for about half the shrinkage so far.  The blue and green ones haven't tightened up as much.  I'll keep washing the pillow until I'm satisfied but as laundry is only done on weekends, you won't be hearing about this piece again until next week.

A while back I asked for advice on buying one of those little hand-cranked I-cord knitting machines.  I now present the outcome.  This one is very definitely a boutique sort of item.  Not everyone has use for miles of I-cord.  I do.

I knit lots of baby booties using the pattern Ann Kreckel posted to the KnitList in the summer of 1995.  The pattern is available at Woolworks.  There's a similar pattern in Taunton Press' Knitting Tips and Trade Secrets.  I make them as gifts for friends and family, or for charitable donation.

I don't have any finished booties on hand right now and my sock yarn stash is in the storage cubby, otherwise I'd whip up a pair to photograph.  I've modified the pattern a little bit, knitting the cuff with fewer rows so that it is more rolled than folded.  I also like the look of I-cord rather than crocheted, braided or longitudinally knitted ties.  But I-cord is tedious.  It takes me almost as long to knit the I-cord ties as it does to make a bootie, so I splurged on a gizmo to do it for me.

About three years ago I got sick of hand-knitting the ties.  I looked at the Bond Magicord Machine, the Inox Strickmuhle, and a couple of older models I found on eBay.  Both the Inox and Bond machines have changed from the ones available at that time.  Except for color, they're now idential, both sporting little clear plastic sleeves surrounding a 4-hook needle bed. 

Inox

Bond

My older version of the Strickmuhle has no sleeve, uses a different type of weight, and has a protruding arm to position the yarn feed:

 Back when I bought this one there was a big difference in quality between the Magicord and the Inox, with the Inox being much sturdier.  Now they're the same machine, so any differences will be in the accompanying documentation (if any).

You can see the hook-weight on mine (there's a block of metal inside).  On the newer models the hook-weight appears to have been replaced by some sort of clip.  Mine also came with a second slightly smaller collar (that's the blue circle that you can see sticking up among the four hooks).  In theory, the smaller collar should be used for fingering and 3-ply yarns, and the larger one should be used for sport and DK, but I've never found the two collar sizes to have any effect on ease of production or I-cord evenness. 

My machine works best on fingering through DK weight yarn, with best results from sport weight (6 spi).  I've forced some Cascade 220 worsted through it (5 spi).  It worked, and I got I-cord that I later used in a fulling project, but I wouldn't recommend it for worsted as a matter of course.  There's a real knack to using this toy, especially with heavier yarns.  Starting a new cord can be especially trying.

I did pick up a couple of starting tips from the French language instruction card (it came with a French, German and English card, but my English card was missing) - When starting out, make a loop, then stuff the yarn end into the tube's body.  Hang the weight from the loop.  Then lay the yarn and turn the crank VERY slowly, skipping every other hook on the first round.  You will be using Hook #1, Hook #3, then Hook #2 and finally Hook #4.  After you get to Hook #4 you can let the yarn feed without skipping hooks.  The combo of constant weight on the dangling yarn, plus the skipping-hook row produces a nice even end and minimizes the un-caught stitches that can make starting a cord difficult. 

Once a cord is started, the thing does work quite easily.  I often hand off my gizmo to one of my kids and have her crank out the required length.  My weight isn't as convenient as the spring clips, but I can move it up the cord if I need more yardage than the 5-year old is tall.  Ending off is easy.  I snip the yarn and keep turning the crank until the cord falls through.  Then I use a tapestry needle and the dangling end to thread through the cord's four loops.  If I'm making bootie ties, I don't bother making a two separate cords.  Because starting is the trickiest part of operation I make a single cord that's double long, plus a couple of rows - then snip the thing in the middle and bind off the two new ends. 

Looking around, I see other people playing with these toys.  Jenanne posted a summary of her experiments with the new version Bond and an Aran weight yarn (4.5 spi).  Kate at Will Knit for Food also wrote about making I-cord from worsted weight yarns, then fulling it for bag handles.

Other than cost, limits on the weight of the yarns it can handle, the difficulty of holding the thing, the yarn and cranking all at the same time (I wish it had a table clamp), and some trickiness starting off a new cord, my biggest disappointment is that the user is unable to alter the number of hooks being used.  You get four-stitch I-cord.  That's all.  One of the pre-1940s-vintage German-made all-metal machines I was tracking on eBay came with 6 hooks, and could be used with as few as two (sort of as a turbocharged lucet). 

I also ran across the Hobby-Knit on eBay: 

 It looks interesting, but I couldn't get anyone to confirm whether or not it could be used with a variable number of hooks.  Also the very few of them that seemed to offered in operational condition were selling for upwards of $100.  Much more than I could justify for such a trivial function.

If anyone knows more about this vintage toy, feel free to clue me in.

Some people have sent in questions about how I am charting up the patterns I intend to use in the lacy scarf.  In specific, they wanted to know if I am using one of the commercially available dedicated charting program.

I've tried demos for almost all of them.  Also about four years ago I broke down and bought Garment Styler Gold and Stitch Painter.  I was sorely dissapointed in the usability of the modules and the quality of support available for both of those programs.  Fewer than half of GS's features worked and repeated requests for help were answered by "Sorry. It's your machine and not our problem," in spite of the fact that I was able to replicate the failures on five more machines running an assortment of video cards and operating system versions.  On top of that, Stitch Painter was primitive at best, and interfaced very poorly with the GS main program.  Both may have gotten better since then, but I didn't want to throw good money after bad.

Since 2002 I've been using Sweater Wizard for garment design assistance with no problems.  I didn't get the companion Stitch and Motif Maker program.  Although I was a beta tester for the new version of SMM, and found the program to be extremely handy, it's not a major improvement over what I'm using now.  What I really want is a combo program that truly integrates both garment design and motif design, producing shaped charts based on actual garment dimensions, or can superimpose garment outlines on a larger charted piece (like in Rowan and Jaeger magazines). 

I've also fooled around with AranPaint.  It's a shareware program that produces custom graphs of texture patterns.  The registered user version is the same as the demo, but restores the ability to print.  AP does a nice job of charting simple cable and twisted-stitch texture pattern repeats.  It's able to produce a visual mock-up of what the design will look like, a chart with (more or less) standard symbols, and a prose printout of the directions.  It's biggest limitation is the small number of different symbols/stitches it can represent.  AP can display/chart K, P, bobble, and 2 to 6 stitch cable crossings, not including most of the more eccentric ones (biggest lack - no YO).  It also has a space limitation on the area. 50x50 stitches is big enough for most people, but not big enough for many of the things I do.  If an update of this one ever comes out and it includes more stitches, I'll cheerfully pay for an upgrade.

My interim motif/stitch solution is to use Microsoft Visio Professional as a stand-alone charting program.  I regularly use it in my real-world work - answering Requests for Proposal (RFPs) for engineering and telecom companies.  Visio is not cheap.  I certainly wouldn't recommend anyone run out and buy a $400+ pro-grade drafting program just for graphing up knits when Stitch and Motif Maker can be had for less than a quarter of that.  But I couldn't justify spending more on a boutique program (no matter how good) when the big boy could be tweaked to serve the same purpose. 

I've concocted a series of stencils that contain all of the symbols I use, plus line and stitch numbers and 10x10 and 5x5 master grids.  Each symbol is a small graphic unit, and all are predicated on little squares.  I assemble my graphs square by square, building them like a little kid builds a wall of alphabet blocks by dragging  over the symbols I  need.   Here's a screen shot:

I used this to make all my graphs, including the extremely large one that accompanies the Raiisa lacy T on wiseNeedle.  The screen shot shows just the basic knitting symbol shapes on the first stencil.  Additional shapes are available on the cables and increases/decreases stencils (seen at the bottom of the green column).  I built each shape myself, using plain old squares and rectangles and the standard Arial font.  While I haven't incorporated any rules-based properties for my stitch shapes yet, each one does have a pop-up help window that gives a how-to for that particular stitch for both right-side and wrong-side implementation.  

I can create more symbols as I please, adding them to the stencils if necessary.  For example, if I'm charting colorwork, I'll create a contrast color block for each color I intend on using, then store them on a separate stencil to re-use as needed.   I even use stencils to store commonly used motifs, like the quaternary star that shows up as snowflake in so many Scandinavian patterns:

Symbols can be grouped, rotated, mirrored or arranged in layers. There are limitations:

•  I can't select all the squares of one color and change them to another unless I've placed or sent each color on its own drawing layer (think stacked transparencies, each bearing just one color of the design).  If I've sorted my motifs this way into layers, I can flood-fill all of the boxes on one layer with the same new color.
• The *.jpgs produced by Visio are very large.  I need to run them through something like Macromedia Fireworks to reduce resolution and size so that they're not unwieldy for Web placement.  The star above was 552 KB, which I slimmed down to 12 kb using Fireworks.
• There's no "flood fill" with a chosen symbol.  I can't draw just the foreground, then flood the background with purls unless I create an all-purl layer and superimpose a layer bearing my motif upon it.

There's no particular reason why any other drafting/drawing program with a stamp or stencil feature and layers can't be tweaked this way.  One final warning - Visio drawings and stencils in their native format are difficult to export to other drawing/drafting programs.  They can be viewed by anyone using the free Visio viewer provided by Microsoft.  Visio can export to many formats, including *.jpg, *.gif and several specific to various commonly used CADD platforms.  But those are one-way solutions that send over images of the final product, not components that can be further manipulated.  I work inside Visio, then export to *.jpg or print via Acrobat if I need to post a graph on the Web.

I've offered up my stencils before, but so far no one has been interested.  I've got templates for Visio 5 and Visio 2000.  The 2000 set should also work in Visio 2003.  If sufficient demand is seen, I'll post both sets on wiseNeedle in the tools section.

The past two days' posts aside, I have been making progress on both my lacy scarf and my fulled pillow.  Knitting on the pillow is almost done.  I've got maybe one more evening of garter stitch left.  This weekend I intend on fulling it when I do laundry.  I'm rushing a bit on it because I want to be sure to be able to full it completely before I have to leave this washing machine behind (it was a negotiated sacrifice in my house sale).  I'm afraid the older hand-me-down machine at the new house might not be up to the challenge.

On the lacy scarf, I've finished re-graphing the patterns I intend on trying out.   I'm working on modifying them a bit so that they play off each other better.  I'm also narrowing the edging by either messing with or eliminating the double column of faggotting shown in the pattern original. 

For those new to the term, faggotting is a true lace knitting stitch, in which increases and decreases occur on every row (as opposed to a lacy knitting stitch, in which rows containing increases and decreases alternate with plain knitted or purled rows).  One common form of this effect when worked in the flat takes only two stitches and two rows for the entire repeat.  Row 1 would be  an endless repeat of the (YO, SSK) unit.  The accompanying Row 2 would be an endless repeat of (YO P2tog).

So?  Why is it called "faggotting" anyway?  [Warning.  This is a Kim-theory, so go chip yourself an enormous grain of salt before reading on.]

It's not immediately evident why the name stuck to this particular knitting texture stitch.  In historical usage, faggots are bundles of sticks - especially twiggy sticks used as kindling or cheap firewood.  Nothing much looks bundled if you examine just knitted pieces.  But if you look at those pieces in in the context of other needlework contemporary to the Great Whitework Cotton Knitting Craze of the mid to late 1800s the reasoning is pretty clear. 

 Withdrawn thread embroidery was one of those contemporary needlework styles.  Commonly used for hemming or decorative insertions, it can range from the pretty simple to the amazingly complex.  The sampler below shows several withdrawn thread patterns spanning several different substyles (the lacy white-on-white bits).  Disclaimer and attribution:  this sampler isn't my own work, it's a piece in the collection of the National Academy of Needle Arts that I found doing a Google image search.  I didn't find a more exact attribution on their website for it.  Great work though!

The top three little bands on the sampler are the most widely known and used forms of the technique.  The others, while nifty aren't as often seen.  The two most common names for this substyle that includes the top three are "Italian Hemstitching" and "Faggotting."  The multicolor bands are double running stitch (aka Holbein Stitch or Spanish Stitch).  

You can see in the openwork bands that the horizontal threads of the linen ground were snipped at the left and right, then teased out.  The cut ends were secured with stitches, usually before any cutting took place.  The remaining vertical threads were bundled tightly with tiny hemming stitches that tie the  fabric threads together like little bunches of sticks.  In the more complex forms on this sampler, these bundles were further embellished with threads woven in among them, or were subdivided and/or twisted by additional stitching.

The second strip of the sampler with it's running VVVVVs is the most interesting one for knitters.  Compare the zig-zag pattern of one often-seen type of knitted faggotting:

The zig-zags produced by faggotting in knitting mimic the groups of verticals created in withdrawn thread hemstitching.  That's where the bundle idea came in, and from where I believe the knitting stitch borrowed its name.   This snippet is excerpted from Lewis' Knitting Lace, p. 146 (Yow!  I just saw the used book price. I need to update my insurance to cover my library!)

My Classic Elite Waterspun poncho is done!  Here it is mid-block:

I am really loving the improvised blocking wires I got to finish my Forest Path stole.  I threaded them through the I-cord edges, two per side, then spread the poncho out on some towels to dry.  The edges are straight, the corners are perfect, and dreaded curl-up has been eliminated.  And I didn't even need pins! 

And here's a shot of it on the happy recipient:

For those of you who wrote to ask for the pattern, here it is.

1. Make swatches until you get a fabric that you like.
2. Figure out your gauge.
3. Measure how big a neckline you need to go over your head.
4. Multiply that measurement by your gauge, and round it up to the next multiple of four.
5. Cast on that number of stitches, placing 4 markers evenly spaced.
6. Knit 6 rounds.
7. On the 7th round, K1, make one, knit to one stitch before the next marker, make one, K1.  Repeat this three times.
8. On the 8th round - knit
9. Repeat steps 7 and 8 until your poncho is as long/wide as you like it.
10. Bind off, or work one or more rounds of attached I-cord to finish.
11. If the neck is too wide, pick up purl bump stitches at the base of the rolled collar.  You should have the same number as you cast on.  Put 4 markers in your work evenly spaced.  Then work one round starting with k2 tog, (k1, p1) until you have two stitches left before the next marker, ssk.  Repeat between the other markers.  Then work a K1, P1 round continuig ribbing as established.  Continue this way, alternating decrease rounds and plain ribbed rounds for about 6-8 rows.  Bind off VERY LOOSELY, making sure you can still get your head through the hole.

As to what yarns are suitable, what number to cast on given a particular gauge, what size needles to use, how much yarn you'll need - this is all up to you.  Experiment!  Here are some thoughts to keep in mind:

What yarn is suitable?  Look at it.  Will it feel good when worn?  Is it hand-wash only, otherwise hard to clean, or a light color?  If so - are you prepared to care for it when it gets dirty?  Is it loosely or tightly spun?  Loosely spun yarns are more prone to pilling, catching and looking "used."  On the other hand, they're often softer with a more luxurious drape and sheen.  Is it heavy?  A poncho is a big thing - larger than a lap blanket.  Lift about 10 skeins worth.  Can you envision yourself dragging around that much weight (or more)?  Will the yarn stretch under its own weight when used in a large quantity? Cottons are heavy yard for yard and are infamous for this.  Wool is less weighty per yard or meter.  Wool/acrylic blends are lighter still.  Is the color/texture not only attractive on its own, but will it look good on you?  A puffy or furry yarn will add bulk and increase the size of your sillouhette.  A giant-gauge or shiny yarn will make a garment look larger than it really is.  Some colors and textures look fantastic as accents, but applied over an entire garment may not be as appealing on every wearer.  Decide what's important to you and choose accordingly.  Remember, you can always buy one skein to try out before you commit for the whole project.  If that yarn doesn't work out for a poncho, one skein might make a nifty hat or scarf.

What needle size to use? When swatching with a new yarn, start with the needle size recommended by the yarn maker.  Do up a good size swatch in your chosen texture stitch or colorwork design.  Do you like the feel and drape?  If so, measure your gauge - you're good to go.  Swatch feel too stiff and tight?  Try again on a size larger needle.  Swatch too drapey and holey?  Go down a needle size and try again.  You'll know when you've hit the best combo.  If you're combining several yarns of different weights or textures, be sure to swatch them as you will use them, using the stitch and needles you intend for the final project, even if that means making a VERY large swatch with multiple stripes.  Once you do get the look/feel you like, make a note of your needle size and FINISH  YOUR SWATCH.  You'll need it to do both gauge measurements and yarn consumption estimates.  (I'm not good at keeping paper notes, so I make knots in my dangling tail end to help me remember what needle size I used to make my swatch.  For example, four knots = US #4 needles.)

How many to cast on?  Simple math.  If your gauge is 4.5 stitches per inch, and you've decided that a 24 inch neckline is big enough, you start with 4.5 x 24 = 108 stitches.  That lucks out because 108 is a multiple of 4, and you don't need to round up.

How much yarn will you need? You can figure out roughly how much yarn your gauge square took for that number of square inches or centimeters.  Draw out a diagram of your project (in this case - a big square), and estimate how big you want the thing to be when it's done.  Figure out its total area and divide that area by the area of your swatch.  Got a 6-inch square swatch?  Want to make a peice that's 4 feet on a side?  4 feet x 4 feet = 48 inches x 48 inches = 2304 square inches.  6 inches x 6 inches = 36 square inches.  2304/36 = 64.  It will take you about 64 times as much yarn to knit your 4-foot square piece than it took to knit your six inch square.  Ravel back your swatch and measure, or weigh it to determine the amout of yarn you used.  Now do the math.

Shortcut:  If you like a slimmer poncho than this super-easy square one, there's a poncho pattern generation utility available elsewhere on-line.

There are lots of stitch patterns that look tempting in the various stitch dictionaries on my shelves.  Some I've been able to place on garments, but others just haven't worked out - mostly because they were too wide or presented composition problems if used over the topography of a person's body. 

About 8 years ago, right after we moved into the house we're on the cusp of leaving, I decided to take some of these difficult-to-place patterns and do up two sofa pillows.   Anticipating severe pillow-abuse that only homes with small children face, I decided not to spend a lot making them.  I got three large skeins of Lion Fisherman Wool from a discount crafts store; and pulled out a pair of US #8 needles and some of my stitch treasuries.  I started right in, not worrying much about absolute size. 

I chose a bunch of patterns from the treasuries, planning out my pillows around an average gauge of 4.5 spi and a target size of around 15 inches, square.  If I was off a bit I didn't worry, knowing my knit pillow tops would stretch to compensate.  Just for kicks, I decided to use different patterns for each side:

If you're a texture pattern junkie like me, in the top picture you'll recognize Rocking Cable (Walker 3, p. 130) and Medallions with Cherries (Walker 2, p. 141) framed by Bulky Double Cable (Walker 1, p. 243).  The simple lacy edging is adapted from #57 in Classic Knitted Cotton Edgings by Hewitt and Daly (p. 44), but I narrowed it a bit by eliminating the openwork along the top edge.

On the other side of these pillows I used Wheat Sheaves (Walker 2, p. 138); and a combo of Patchwork Cable II (Walker 3, p. 93) and Grand Swinging Cable (Walker 3, p. 91).  Note that the Patchwork Cable and Grand Swinging Cable match up exactly in row count.  I was able to tuck them in together side by side in a playful combo I intend on using someday for a kid's pullover.  That pillow is also framed with #89 from Stanfield's New Knitting Stitch Library (p. 59). 

Once I had my four sides knit and blocked, assembly was easy - even considering that I put a zipper in each so I could remove the covers for washing.  In fact, if you've never sewn a zipper into a piece of hand-knitting pillows are excellent practice pieces.  To make life easier, I sewed in my zippers first:

I've posted a general write-up of how to sew in a zipper on wiseNeedle.  In this case, I laid the two squares side by side, and pinned the zipper between them.  Then I hand-stitched the zipper to each square.  Once the zipper was set, I folded the two squares along it, so that the wrong sides were sandwiched between.  Then starting at the foot of the zipper, I worked either I-cord or an edging up along the outer edge of my two matched squares, effectively joining them together at the same time as the edging or I-cord was created and skipping the sew-up-the-pillow step.  I went around the three open ends of the pillow, joining as I went.  When I got to the zippered side, I worked the edging along only ONE of the squares taking care not to foul the path zipper pull with yarn.  My (now camoflaged) zipper nestles along that side at the base of the edging.  "Zip open, shove in store-bought pillow form, zip shut" were the final steps of assembly.

To fasten the pillow sides together I used the second of the two I-cord attachment methods I described yesterday.  The I-cord edged pillow worked exactly the same way, but instead of picking up both legs of the stitches running down the length of the previous round of I-cord, I held the two sides together and picked up the innermost leg of the edge stitch from each one.  This turned the outermost legs inside as a selvedge, and made a nice, neat join without gappy holes. 

The pillow with the lacy edging was done in a similar manner.  Unlike the I-cord however, I had wrong-side rows on the lace.  I did my lace trim, using three plain knits on the straight side as my point of attachment.  I ended every right-side row of the lace with SSK, pick up one stitch, just like the I-cord.  Then I flipped my work over, slipped the first stitch purlwise, knit 1, and continued with rest of my wrong-side row.

Just like in joining the first round of I-cord to my poncho, for both the I-cord and lacy edgings I had to adjust the ratio of stitches picked up to rows or stitches on the piece's body.  I believe I used needles two or three sizes smaller for both the I-cord and lacy edgings.  I also ended up working 4:3 on the sides of the piece and 2:3 along the top and bottom.  Experimentation at the outset and a willingness to rip back a few rows and try again are both always required when you're adding a knit-on edging.

I'm pleased with the way these turn out, and surprised at how well the inexpensive wool I used has held up.  The pieces were a bit stiff and slightly real-wool itchy when first knit, but softened up quite nicely when washed and blocked.  Sure, there's some pilling, but these pillows have survived 8 years of slumber party pillow fights, general abuse and spills of all sorts.  They've resisted stains, and freshen up quite well after a general pill-pluck and washing with Eucalan.  My only cautions on the Lion Fisherman yarn are that even washed it isn't Merino-soft; and that my gauge of 4.5 spi worked but is a bit loose for it in garments.  I think it would look better knit a tad more firmly as a true worsted.

Messing around with the edging on the Waterspun poncho, I realized that I was using two different methods of attaching I-cord, and that "How do I work attached I-cord?" is a common question.

Recap:  The first round of I-cord edging was applied to live stitches.  Instead of binding off my last row of the poncho body, I left its stitches on the circs.  Using a DPN and a half-hitch cast on, I cast on four stitches and knit one row of I-cord.  On the second row, I knit three stitches, then did an SSK, working the last stitch of the I-cord together with one stitch of the poncho body.  I worked this way, doing three rows of attached I-cord, followed by one round of "free" I-cord.  This 3:4 ratio of attached rows:total rows kept the edging from being either gathered or ruffled.  When I got all the way around my piece and had incorporated all of the body stitches, I grafted the live stitches at the end of my I-cord to its beginning.

On the second round of I-cord I was not working with live stitches.  Instead, I was picking up stitches along the outer edge of an established row of 4-stitch I-cord.  On the previous round of cord one stitch was "eaten" by the attachment row.  That left three to form the rounded edge.  I used the centermost of these three as my line of attachment.  To do this round of edging, I again cast on four stitches using half-hitches, and knit one row of unattached I-cord.  Then I began working it onto the established round of edging.  On the next row I knit two stitches, then did a SSK and picked up a stitch under both legs of the designated spot on the previously finished I-cord.  In this shot you can see the knit two, the SSK (under my thumb), and the needle thrust under the stitch of the existing I-cord, ready to do the pick-up.

 

The reason why I didn't use this method to attach the first round of I-cord is that the attachment rows of each method  look different.  Pre-block waviness aside, you can see that the first round of I-cord has a smooth chain-stitch like appearance to its bottom edge.  The second method produces an attachment row that looks rather like crochet, although you can't see the non-crochet look rounded multi-stitch upper edge from this angle:

I prefer the speed of the second round's style of attachment (less fumbling and shifting stitches between needles), but I like the look of the first round's style of attachment.  Note that the reverse of the second round's style is a bit smoother and less leggy.  Sometimes I work it around something clockwise instead of counterclockwise, so that the I-cord's other side presents itself on the public side of my piece.

There's another nifty use for this second method of attachment.  You can use it along with I-cord or a lace edging to make a  decorative seam, or you can use it for counterpanes or pieced blankets, multi-directional or domino-style knitting to join motifs or sections together without sewing.   More on using this for decorative seaming tomorrow.

I love stitch markers.  I use them for just about everything - the more the better!  I buy them like popcorn, and make or improvise as many as I buy.  They infest my house and are always found while sweeping up, in between cushions, and in the dryer's lint trap.  In fact, I've got two little dishes - one next to the washer and one on my dresser, both there for the sole purpose of catching stitch markers at convenient points in the laundry process.

I prefer rigid markers to bits of string or contrasting color yarn.  I find for me they transfer from needle to needle faster, and because I often knit without watching my fingers, are easier to spot by feel.

Here are some of the things I use as stitch markers from the catch-all on my dresser:

Clockwisearound the outside and spiraling in, there's a beaded lizard made for me by my Tween-ager; several split rings and jump rings bought by the bagful at the jewelry findings counter of my local crafts store; some flat gold-tone beads with large holes, and a heart charm intended for use on keychains (same source as split rings); a paper clip; three home-made beaded markers; a yellow flat split ring marker; three more home-made beaded markers (small size); two Susan Bates white plastic rings; an ancient Susan Bates split ring; red and blue Susan Bates flat rings; two coil-less safety pins, and two small turquoise rings "liberated" from my kids' K'Nex building toy set.

I tend to ue the larger decorated markers as row end or abacus markers; and the plainer ones as repeat dividers, or to denote other spots where I need to pay attention.  I don't have any problem using the stitch markers with the dangling bobs.  I let them hang on the side of my work that faces me.  Since I sometimes need to use my "third hand" when doing maneuvers like decreasing across a marker, the beads make convenient grabbing tabs for my teeth.  (Confession:  I feel sort of responsible for foisting the beaded marker fad on the rest of you.  Back in '94 or so I wrote a post to the ancient KnitList that described how I used broken earring bobs and necklace pendants as stitch markers, and was beginning to make singlets expressly for that purpose. )

I used to use the coiled split rings (shiny red, above) to mark individual stitches - usually to help count decreases or spots that needed to line up when a garment was assembled.  It has been a long time since I've seen these coiled guys in the stores, so I've switched to using either jewelry split rings or the safety pins instead. 

The one type of marker I absolutely detest is the pig-tailed yellow split ring.  I bought them only once and don't remember the brand name.  Those cursed pig-tails seemed to look for an excuse to snap off.  They also dug into my fingers as I was working.

Marker Use #1 - Decrease/increase counters

I'm a counting disaster.  I detest counting rows.  I'm forever losing those little barrel-shaped counter devices that sit on the needle or hang below it.  I am also a Wandering Knitter, so I don't always have a nice settled place to put a pad and paper nearby, nor am I reliable enough to remember to click off the rows on a katchaa-katchaa counter.  For the same reason pegboards or counting stones aren't for me (I've got a sweater that ended up with a sleeve eight inches too long because someone kept eating the M&Ms I was relying on as counting stones).   I've even tried the flipping the string over every ten rows gambit, but ended up pulling out my string.   I need to have a tangible reminder to do something, placed directly in my work so that I can feel it.  Everything else gets lost, or forgotten.  Therefore being the only idiot working on my knitting, I have used markers to idiot-proof my knitting world.

In addition to just sitting prettily between pattern repeats, or marking where one switches attention from chart to chart, I use markers to help me keep track of those pesky directions that say things like "increase every fourth row six times."   If that was my direction, and I'd decided to add my stitch by use a make one (lifted bar) increase after the first stitch of my row, I'd proceed this way.  On the first row of my increase section I'd work my first stitch, then place a thin marker and after the marker was set - work my first M1.  Then I'd place another thin marker and work to the end of my row.  The next time I needed to add a stitch, I'd again work the first stitch of the row, move my marker over, do a M1, then work across the row I'd work along, only having to keep track of how many plain right-side rows were between increase points because ALL of my increases accumulate between the markers.  When there are six new stitches between the markers, I'd know I'd done enough. 

I handle decreases in much the same way.  The first row of the decrease section I place markers before the first stitch that I'll be decreasing away, and after the last stitch that will be decreased away.  Then I work my rows, decreasing at the rate specified until my markers touch.

I've got another little gizmo that I've used to keep track of the how-many-rows between problem.  I've made two over the years, but I can't lay hands upon either one right now.  They're probably packed away in the storage cubby with the rest of my knitting stash, but here's an illustration:

This is a length of chain links with two different color beads at each end.  Red and green are nice mnemonics to set up start and finish, but any color will do.  The links are large enough to admit the needle size being used.  I made one of these with eight links and one with six.  I prefer the one with six because I can use it to count up to 12 rows by using each link to represent two rows.  There are VERY few patterns that ask you do do something every 12 or more rows.   

The way I use my counting-chain is to substitute it for the first marker in my string of decreases or increases, right in line on my working row.  The first row of the six-row decrease set, I put my needle tip into the ring closest to the green bead.  On the second row, when I get up to the counting chain, I slip my needle tip into the second ring away from the green bead.  Third row, third ring, and so on.  In this case, when I got up to the sixth ring I'd know that it would be time to do my increase again, and I'd return my needle tip to the first ring after the green bead.

Now if you see someone selling these after today, know that you saw it here first; and remember I was foolish enough to repeat my mistake of writing about an idea before patenting it.  [grin]

Marker Use #2 - In-Line Abacus

As I said before: I'm hopeless at keeping track of rows.  I'm a lousy and lazy row counter, and manage to muck up every row-counting aid - including placing safety pins every ten rows or slipping a strand of contrasting color string back and forth every ten rows.  Instead I use stitch markers as an in-work abacus.

This technique uses two or three stitch markers - preferably ones that are unavoidably different both from those put to other purposes in the work, and from each other.    It works best for straight pieces of knitting without edge increases or decreases, or texture patterns that alter the number of stitches on the needle.  It can be used in a piece with any of these, but you have to remember to compensate, or you have to place the markers in a relatively unperturbed area.

Let's say I have a straight run of plain old stockinette worked flat, and I want to keep track of the number of rows I have knit.  I decide which of my distinctive stitch markers is designates ones and which designates tens.  I knit my first stitch, place my ones-marker and keep working.  On the next right-side row I advance my ones-marker two stitches to show that I'm in the middle of the third row.  I keep going until I'm finishing the tenth row (it's a wrong side row).  At that point I remove my ones marker.  On the next row (my eleventh), I work one stitch, place my ones-marker, then place my tens-marker and work to the end of the row.  On the next right-side row, I work one stitch, keep my tens marker in place and advance my ones-marker two stitches.  That shows I'm on the 13th row.

I can keep doing this for as long as required.  Sometimes I need to introduce a hundreds-marker.  Other times I move the counting markers in from the edge - mostly to avoid shaping increases or decreases, marking my point of origin with another distinctive marker that never moves.  Using a point of origin marker I can even use my stitch marker abacus to keep track of rounds in circular knitting.

Of course there are disadvantages.  Fiddling with the markers often involves use of that "third hand."  I haven't swallowed a marker yet, but some have spun off to add to the feral herd of markers swarming in my house.   I do find however that I am FAR less likely to forget to move a counting marker than I am to forget to spin a barrel counter, or make a notation on a pad.  And unlike M&Ms - other people can't eat my tracking device as I knit.

A couple of failed start-ups ago, I was sitting in the cafeteria with the company's resident theoretical mathemetician.  I was penciling out a new knitting project, and he was watching me shape the pieces and place repeats.  I did a few simple calculations, ratios, slopes, division - nothing terribly complex, but he was impressed at the amount of math that was going into the design.  So impressed in fact that he scoffed at the idea of pre-numerate people (meaning people who had no formal math education) coming up with complex patterns. 

Now you and I both know that some pretty involved knitting went on for quite a while before modern math education took hold.  Dr. Math and I got into a discussion on the subject, and the outcome was I bet him that I could come up with a complex knitted pattern that was constructed using only simple counting.  He took the bet.  With a bottle of good single-malt Scotch on the line, I was off and running.

I decided to go further.  I'd make a sweater that required no swatching, or gauge measurement to boot.   I remembered an idea I had seen in a vintage Anna magazine, put out some time in the 1960s.  I decided to give the method a try. 

I fished some rustic Maine style wool out of my stash (Have Ewe Any Wool - I'd bought it at a Gore Place Sheep Festival the previous year).  I knew from prior experience I'd be using a US #9 on this wool.  I happened to have a set of 18-inch European 5.5mm DPNs, but I could have worked this on circs.  Here's the logic of my project:

Apologies that some lines have been lost in the above diagram due to file re-sizing, but they aren't dead-vital. 

First in the round I cast on enough stitches to make the neck ribbing (Step 1).  I worked them for about an inch and a half.  Then counting from the point where I cast on as center front, I determined and marked the center back.  Once that was marked, I counted out the center of each shoulder.  I eyeballed the number of stitches I should use for the shoulder strip and knit out two epaulette-shaped pieces (Step 2), leaving the rest of the stitches on holders.  I kept going, trying on the piece until I had a strip that was as wide as my shoulders.  I now had something that looked like a bell-pull with a hole in the middle. 

I put the live stitches at the ends of the epaulettes onto holders, and began the center front bib area.  Starting around a hand-span's worth of stitches in from the end of the epaulette, I picked up stitches along the sides of my strips until I got to the collar.  There I knit across the stitches I had reserved, and picked up the same number of stitches on the other side of the collar.  I knit down until I had a hanging piece that was about 2 inches below my arm, placing the stitches on a holder instead of binding them off.  I repeated the process for the back (Step 3). 

Once the bib areas were done, I added width so that the upper body was wide enough to fit me shoulder to shoulder.  I picked up the first "wing" along the side of the bib area, then worked across the live shoulder strip stitches, and picking up along the side of the second bib piece.  I put these stitches on holders instead of binding off (Step 4).

After the upper body was done, I folded the piece along the shoulder line.  I picked up stitches along the side of the first wing, worked across the live center bib panel stitches, then picked up along the side of the second wing.  At this point I decided I needed to add more length, so I knit about another three  inches in the flat before joining the front and back and switching over to working in the round.  I continued to knit the body down in the round, working until it was the desired length, ending with a ribbing (Step 5).

I now had a sweater body with two holes for arms.  I picked up along the edge of the arm opening along the little bit of body I just added before joining, then worked across the live wing stitches, finishing by picking up the remaining few stitches along the side of the other bit of late-added body.  I worked the sleeve out to the cuff, doing double decreases at the bottom edge every other row until the sleeve looked narrow enough for comfort.  I continued working it out as a tube until it was long enough (yes, I know the diagram shows decreases evenly to the cuff.  Shoot me.).  I ended off with some cuff ribbing. (Step 6)

Here's the result:

I admit on beyond the method described above, I tarted the thing up a bit with some cables and texture stitches:

I used the Twin Leaf Panel from Walker's Second Treasury (p. 235) for the centermost panel in the bib area.  I framed it with an unusual eccentric chain link cable that featured an openwork detail.  I thought I got that one from Stanfield's New Knitting Stitch Library, but I can't find it in there right now.  I also used the same cable on the epaullete strip, continuing the design down the sleeve to the cuff.  Plain 2x2 cables (mirrored left and right) frames the fancy-work areas on both the bib and sleeves.  I did like the opework detail of the eccentric cable, so I decied to introduce more openwork into the piece by using YO K2tog or SSK YO combos instead of the more traditional purl ground on which most cables float.  That's what makes the curious spines between the patterned panels.  The rest of the piece is done in seed stitch.

So there you have it.  I produced a visually complex piece using only simple counting.  To determine centers, I counted in from the ends rather than divide.  To place cables knowing their stitch count widths, I counted out from my center markers, and placed additional markers to indicate where they went.  I did no other math of any sort, and did no swatching or gauge measurements either.

Did I win my bet?  Of course.  To be fair, it WAS a sucker's bet.  

The Scotch is now long gone and the sweater is now a bit stretched out, but the Bowmore canister lives on as a trophy, happily holding needles here on my desk at wiseNeedle Central.

A couple of people have written to me saying they also have problems with yarn labels.  Here in the US, they're not very standardized - especially compared to labels made for the European market.  Here are some examples. 

First, here's a label for Harlekin, a yarn imported from Germany:

You can see not only a recommended needle size, but also a rough consumption guide for how much yarn it might take to make several different garments for average size men, women and children.  Note the little square shape with numbers above, below and aside it - that's the gauge square, and shows how many stitches and rows the maker recommends for this yarn.   It also has complete care instructions.  This is pretty much the Cadillac standard of yarn labels in terms of the amount of information on it.

By contrast, here's a label for a US yarn, made by a small producer (to be fair, it's an old label, and current ones from the same maker might have more info on them):

You'll see that this label has yardage, but no gauge info; and wash directions are rudimentary at best.

Most yarns fall somwhere between these two.  Here's one that's typical:

No little gauge square, but the info is there in prose.  Good care information.  Yardage and skein weight are also there. 

There is a move afoot led by the Craft Yarn Council (mostly made up of mass-market yarn distributors and makers, plus some magazine publishers) to standardize on a new set of yarn descriptors for weight, and for those descriptors to appear on future yarn labels.

You might see markings like these:

While there is considerable weight behind implementaton of these symbols, frankly I think they are not worth the paper they're printed on.  The effort is a laudable one - to simplify the system of yarn designations, removing confusion from terms like worsted, DK, sport and the rest.  But what they do is substitute a set of imprecise descriptors for the admittedly arcane but specific existing terms.

Here's the chart of what each symbol means:

	Gr. 1	Gr. 2	Gr. 3	Gr. 4	Gr. 5	Gr. 6
Type of Yarns in Category	Sock, Fingering, Baby	Sport, Baby	DK, Light Worsted	Worsted, Afghan, Aran	Chunky, Craft, Rug	Bulky, Roving
Knit Gauge Range* in Stockinette Stitch to 4 inches	27�?32 sts	23�?26 sts	21�?24 st	16�?20 sts	12�?15 sts	6�?11 sts
Recommended Needle in Metric Size Range	2.25�? 3.25 mm	3.25�? 3.75 mm	3.75�? 4.5 mm	4.5�? 5.5 mm	5.5�? 8 mm	8 mm and larger
Recommended Needle U.S. Size Range	1 to 3	3 to 5	5 to 7	7 to 9	9 to 11	11 and larger
Crochet Gauge Ranges in Single Crochet to 4 inch	21�?32 sts	16�?20 sts	12�?17 sts	11�?14 sts	8�?11 sts	5�?9 sts
Recommended Hook in Metric Size Range	2.25�? 3.5 mm	3.5�? 4.5 mm	4.5�? 5.5 mm	5.5�? 6.5 mm	6.5�? 9 mm	9 mm and larger
Recommended Hook U.S. Size Range	B�?1 to E�?4	E�?4 to 7	7 to I�?9	I�?9 to K�?10 1⁄2	K�?10 1⁄2 to M�?13	M�?13 and larger

^{(source:  Craft Yarn Council's http://www.yarnstandards.com/weight.html)}

For example, you'll note that the old standard of DK - a pretty precise designation meaning 5.5 stitches per inch is now lumped into a broader guideline that covers everything from 21-24 spi.  That's a TREMENDOUS difference, as true sport weight yarns cannot be successfully substituted for the heavier DKs.  But magazines are printing patterns as being made from a Group 3 yarn.  The way this symbol is so prominently featured leads beginners to believe that ANY Group 3 yarn can be used. 

"Oh" you say, "they can't be that naiive."  Well they are.  I'm not a yarn shop owner, but just in my visits to my LYS I've seen a good half dozen projects ruined by exactly this error.   My heart really goes out to the folks who buy yarns sight-unseen on line, or people who shop in crafts stores for their knitting supplies.  Neither venue offers hands-on help or the sanity check of dealing with another knitter face to face.  Who knows how many people are abandoning projects (and knitting) in disgust because they picked out yarn with only the symbols for guidance and have been disappointed.

My advice?  If you're a designer or yarn maker, try resist the pressure to use this ill-conceived system.  If you're a knitter - ignore it.  Look at the gauge listed (provided there is a gauge listed) NOT the yarn group.  If you're doing substitutions, plan on swatching.  Lots.  Start with the maker's recommended gauge.  Some yarns may perform well over a range of gauges, but not every yarn is guaranteed to achieve the full range of gauges listed in its newly assigned group.