A few knitting and non-knitting related questions from the inbox:

How did Killer Bunnies go?

Tons of fun. We played as a mixed-age group, with the youngest being 7. We had hoped to get the Red Expansion Pack at Puzzle Me This in Provincetown, but they were out. We settled for Violet, the next one in sequence. The game plays more smoothly if you add them in order because each pack builds on the last, but we were able to use most of the Violet cards anyway.

What size needles did you use for the two versions of your counterpane?

The old version in the heavier cotton was knit on one of my odd size needles, it's a set of old long steel DPNs, they're probably antique 9s - and just a bit larger than standard US #4s (3.5mm), but closer to #4s than #5s (3.75mm). The new piece is knit on 3mm needles, which in some makers' lines is a US #2, and in some is somewhere between a US#2 and a US #3.

Did you finish that embroidery doodle while you were away?



Are you planning on assembling the counterpane in the same way as the last try?

No. These units can be joined in many ways. Last time I butted the triangles together. This time I plan to join squares. My goal is to do the layout shown at the upper right. Last time I used the one at the lower right. Both use some plain solid triangles in addition to the pattern bearing units.



Where did you buy the counterpane pattern?

I didn't. I made it up, starting with a standard spiraled star. I added the outline-like bars to emphasize the motif, and played with several treatments for the ground behind the star. This one like my Mountain Laurel counterpane plays with a textured ground and smooth star, but unlike that piece, plays a bit more with the ground. I also wanted to do a counterpane that was an tessellation of more interest than a flat tiled hex or a plain octagon and hex. That's why there are four units - the center hex, a patterned square, a patterned triangle, and a plain triangle. The layout above is actually an early draft showing how I played with the concept, looking at ways in which I could use the patterned units to extend the lines of the center hexes.

Can you send me the pattern?

Be patient. I plan on posting it to wiseNeedle this year - probably after I've gotten considerably more done on the thing and have a decent representation of the piece's final look. I'd also like to noodle up a complementing half hex and border.

The only problem with starting out the summer with one's vacation is that while there's lots for the kids to look forward to in July and August, to me it feels like summer is already over.

While we had great fun on our week away, the weather wasn't ideal. I didn't mind the wet and cold because I was at my favorite place on earth - the beach in North Truro on Cape Cod. This is sunset over Provincetown, as seen from the deck of our room on one of the nicer days.



We had a couple of good beach days at the start of the week, then the weather turned cold and nasty. Luckily we were there with friends, and between good companionship and copiously applied wine, were able to keep both warm and entertained.

I did get in some knitting, but progress was slow. I was re-creating my North Truro counterpane pattern - invented in the very same spot - from my sketchy notes. I got off to a couple of false starts, regraphed some probelm areas, made some of the lines of the piece crisper, and played with various methods of joniing that avoid some need for seaming. Here's the result:



As you can see, I'm mid-motif. The initial unit is the hex in the center. I knit that starting on some 3mm DPNs, moving to a circ as it got larger. Instead of binding off, I purled my final row, and left the thing on the circ. Then I attached my yarn at what looked to be a good corner point, and holding the thing with the reverse side front, knit one side's worth of stitches. That produced the appearance of two rounds of purl on the front at the base of my soon-to-be-knit side square. I then worked the side square out using two DPNs. I worked my side squares attached like this, one at a time. After I got a couple done, I knit a side triangle separately (it's worked base to tip) and sewed it into place.

I also experimented with skewing the attachment of the square unit. Since it really doesn't matter where on the center hex the sides begin and end, I knit one square on katywumpus - aligning its center to the point of the star instead of to the center of the leaf motif in between the star arms. You can see it above. It's the lone square that I've pointed out with the arrow. I've decided I like the original orientation better and left it intact just long enough to photograph.

Well and good. Things look like they're working out. I've avoided working all those squares separately and the seams joining them to the hex in the center. My bargain basement Webs-find yarn is working out well, with a very soft slubby cotton hand. I like it a lot. Compare it to my first iteration of this idea:



I don't know if you can see it, but the older yarn is MUCH heavier. It's a very dense cotton worsted - almost a twine. The newer yarn is a 90% cotton, 10% acrylic blend, and is somewhere between DK and sport in thickness, plus it's much less densely structured than the older stuff. The lighter yarn drapes better, plus it shows off the motifs better. All in all, things look quite promising!

That's it! I grafted the final row of the edging to the first row to make an invisible seam. I'm done except for blocking. That will have to wait a bit as I am swamped right now, with no prospect for a large block of free time with a floor to hand in order to play with the thing before the latter part of July. Still, I'm done. Here's a shot of my Alcazar in all its rumpled, squished edge, pre-block glory that we can use for comparison to the (eventual) post-block photo I promise to plaster up here as soon as it is available.



Unblocked it measures about 40 inches across. If worked in the suggested needle size with the suggested yarn, this shawl is supposed to block out to be 56 or so inches across. I'll probably make it to 48 or so, tops because both my yarn and needle were smaller than those recommended.

Lessons learned:

1. Read the pattern and make sure you understand it before embarking on a project.
2. Faux silk (rayon) is a very unforgiving and unstretchy material from which to knit lace. Care must be taken with gauge because it's very easy to knit too tightly.
3. Did I mention the "read your pattern" thing?
   
4. There are some minor quibbles in the pivot charts. Occasional one or two stitch fudging is necessary to make the edging and corners come out right. While I'd rate the majority of this pattern as "quite straightforward and quick to knit if you're comfortable with charts" and "a challenge mostly because of size, not because of complexity" those little problems might be enough to set a beginner off his or her feed. But even a lace knitting beginner, armed with the knowledge of where those little nuisances might be and the courage to work through them, could complete this project.
   

Now what?

I have the opportunity for some serious knitting time over the next week. I had hoped that I'd still be working on this shawl, but wonder of wonders - I finished early. I might pick up the Rogue again, but it's not particularly convenient for my target window (why will become evident in ten days).

To be truthful, I haven't quite licked the lace/non-wool knitting bug yet. There are lots of options. I've got some lace-weight linen in the stash. I've got a Rachel Schelling pattern collection here somewhere. I could play with them together. Or now that I've got the cotton to knit my North Truro Counterpane, I could restart that project. Other possibilities are the doilies on Yarn Over. I have as little use for doilies as I have for shawls. They look fun to knit, but I haven't the inclination to use them. I could use a table runner though. Hmmm.

Round-up - Needle sizes and Kitchener Stitch

Finally, for those that are asking - I will return to the needle summary as soon as I have time. Those data notes take a bit of research to write up, and time hasn't exactly been plentiful.

And on the Kitchener Stitch documentation project, I've been in touch with a couple of people active in historical British military kit research. They're branching out to their own networks, and have recommended some sources that might confirm (or debunk) the notion that Kitchener's revised clothing specifications included seamless toe socks. No one has offered up any other citations. So I'm still looking...

From the inbox:

How did you draw the pattern on the cloth?

I didn't. I have the design drawn out on a piece of graph paper. I'm copying that design onto the fabric, using the weave of the linen as the equivalent of graph paper. Each unit on my ground cloth is a two thread by two thread square. I worked from the graph to establish the outlines in the center motif, then "colored in" the long armed cross stitch background. I worked the first repeat of the lettuce around the edges from the graph, but subsequent iterations of it from the piece I embroidered (much less cumbersome than toting around a book).

Was this stuff actually done on the count in the 1600s?

A vast amount was. There are a couple of caveats though. Some people assert that a minority of counted thread pieces worked on very fine linens used some other method to establish the evenly spaced graph-like appearance. In particular, they suggest that some sort of evenly woven but easily unraveled fabric was placed over the ground cloth, and used as a stitching guide. The stitching was done over the placement aid, and its threads were later removed from the work. Other people suggest that pouncing, either over paper or another fabric was used to produce evenly spaced dots, which were then employed as the spacing mechanism for the ground. I'm kind of skeptical on the pounced dots thing. That's a ton of very smearable dots in a very small space.

Another exception is theorized for other forms of voided foreground stitching. (Yesterday's piece is voided foreground). Some of the panels look more like someone drew the foreground motifs freehand, then filled in the background with the covering stitch. Again I can't confirm or deny this. Some panels (especially those with repeats) look quite precise to me - too stitch-precise and weave-aligned to have been freehand sketches. To my eye, the few pieces that might have been done this way are pictorial panels that have almost a folk-art type naivety of line and motif placement. One of these panels is pictured in Bath's Embroidery Masterworks. While it's not a probability that all voided foreground works were done this way, it's not a impossibility that some were.

I'm sure the total state of research into the origins of voided foreground styles and Assisi embroidery has gnawed into this problem. I haven't kept up my reading in it of late. My long time pal and needlework buddy Kathryn Goodwyn has an excellent article on voided foreground stitching on line (this group of styles is her specialty). She mentions the hand drawn outline variant as a curious offshoot.

Are the colors accurate?

Green wasn't the most popular but it was used. However the natural color, brownish unbleached linen I had on hand wouldn't have been used. A historical stitcher would have preferred a much lighter ground. The accompanying black outlines in this piece are also open for debate. Few pre-1700 pieces employ contrasting color outlining, although most later examples of the style do. The original of this design clearly employs two different colors in the work. Even in the black and white photo of the original (dated 1560-1625), the background is clearly a different color from the outlines. The original also shoed background area behind the lettuce north and south of the main panel as being worked in long-armed cross stitch - something I don't intend to do. (Lettuce isn't a technical term for the extra borders framing the main panel, it's just my own term of reference).

Linen thread?

It is out there. DMC has some. There are linen threads made by other makers, too. But sometimes expedience wins. I'm not doing this piece as a totally accurate historical study. It really is a doodle. I'm playing. I happened to have the Flower Thread on hand, and it worked nicely with the weave size of my ground cloth.

I'm offended. My 11-spi stitching isn't "coarse!"

For me, 11 stitches per inch on 22 count linen is much less fine than the gauges I usually pursue. I prefer the look of stitching on a really buttery thick 50-count linen (that's 25 stitches per inch). Compared to that work, 11 stitches per inch is as large as logs. My doodle is a quick study, again not intended for any purpose other than to let me do some stitching at events, and for the fun of it.

What does the back look like?/Do you use knots?

My backs are relatively neat, not because I'm a fanatic about making them so and not because I believe that that's the way they should be. My backs are neat because that's the way I stitch (historical pieces often have absolutely chaotic backs that would make most modern needlework judges recoil in horror). And yes - heresy of heresy - unless I'm working something that's intended to be totally two-sided, I do use knots. No - if done carefully they don't pull out or show through to the front. Savage me if you must, but I reserve the right to ignore you.



What stitches did you use?

Double running (aka Spanish Stitch, Holbein Stitch, Vorstitch) for the outlines. Here's a double running stitch mini-lesson from the Skinner Sisters website. I could also have used back stitch, a less represented but also historically accurate way to do them on voided foreground works. Long armed cross stitch is less well known than it's X-like cousin with equal length arms, but it's a very useful thing. There's a research article about it here by Christian de Holcombe (another needlework pen pal), but a short example of how to (along with quite a few related stitches) at this site.

Doodle?/What's it going to be?

I haven't thought that far ahead. I'll probably end up mounting this piece for wall display. I called it a doodle because it's an offhand and trivial effort, a time-filler, and bit of life's marginalia. It's not a Big Project, nor a planned project. It's just... a doodle.

Your book is out of print, it's o.k. for me to copy it, right?

No. Absolutely not. Copyright doesn't last until the publisher decides to skip town, or drop the item from current inventory. US copyright lasts 75 years. Even if I get hit by a truck, that copyright is part of my estate and would be owned by my heirs until 2070. Anyone who respects authors, living or dead, should respect copyright.

I'm not an ogre, hoarding rights and royalties (lord knows I've seen almost none of the latter). I AM trying to get the thing back into print. One publisher has turned me down flat in part because his research indicated that illegal copies were being made.

So don't do it, as tempting as it might be. There's more about copyright - in specific your rights as a purchaser, as well as the author's intellectual property rights at Girl From Auntie and Yarnaholic Confessions.

This weekend past we went to a local SCA event. We're not very active in the organization any more, but every now and again it's fun to show up and partake of the day. This particular day was quite warm, and we arrived late - missing the most strenuous part of the planned activities. We mostly sat in the shade and enjoyed various song and story performances. In the evening a very ambitious dinner was served, consisting of dozens of dishes from a recently translated 16th century Italian cookbook.

I keep a small sampler I work on when I go to events like this. Now that I'm up to the easily replicated borders, I rarely stitch on it in between events.



My doodle is worked on even weave unbleached linen, using DMC's Danish Flower Thread. The Flower Thread is a matte finish cotton. In construction this thread is a single strand, as opposed to the more commonly seen multstrand embroidery floss. Having used both, I find that for small pieces, this thread mimics the look (but not the stiffness) of linen thread. I'm working at at the extremely coarse gauge of 11 stitches per inch, on 22 thread count ground. It's quick and easy to see.



All of the black lines in the piece are done in double running stitch (aka Holbein Stitch, Spanish Stitch). You can see the bit in process, where I've established a baseline. All of the "growths" from that baseline are traced out and filled in again as I go along. The background is done in long-armed cross stitch, worked back and forth across the piece to heighten the illusion of a plaited ground. Since I've already done a full repeat of the border, I no longer need to refer to my original printed pattern. Also, because the whole goal of this piece is "quick and portable," I'm not working it in a large rectangular frame. Instead I'm using a plain old 7-inch diameter round tambour-style embroidery frame. My matte finish single construction thread stands up to the hoop's abuse much better than does silk or even cotton floss.

The design is another one from my New Carolingian Modelbook. It's on Plate 74:1. I graphed it from a photo of a late 16th or early 17th century artifact, appearing in Adolph Cavallo's Needlework. (New York: Cooper Hewitt Museum, 1974). What I like about this design in particular is the way the edges of the work pop past the internal border. The meaty branches have an almost palpable vitality, as if they can't be contained by the formal constraints of the stitching. Working a solid background (as was done in the original) heightens the effect.

I've only tried out one repeat of the central design. The historical piece repeated the S-shaped flourish, mirroring it at either end. Since this is a self-contained unit, it can be either mirrored or it can be repeated in the same orientation to make a longer length of patterning. Period embroiders used both methods of composition to construct longer decorative bands.

I'm in the home stretch on my Alcazar. I'm about three quarters of the way through edging the second side. That means I've worked one corner and am about to work the second. I have to say that how to work the corners wasn't intuitively obvious in my first read through of the pattern, and the original photo was of little help. It's almost impossible to see exactly what's going on with the edging in the photo because in the sample it was knit in a darker color which cannot be seen against the high contrast black background used to display the rest of the shawl.

The pattern itself wasn't too tough. It's a plain variant of a classic wave edging. It took me a couple of times through before I realized that Carter was describing wrapped short rows for her corner treatments. Now conceptual interference might have been in play thanks to the glass of wine I had just before embarking on the corner, but confusion remained even upon revisiting the instructions in the sober light of morning. I admit I got the gist of the thing from the chart and written accompaniment, and then (mostly) winged it. I'm not 100% pleased with Corner #1, but not so unpleased that I feel like tinking back and doing it again.




The first step is to pause roughly one repeat away from the corner. Count the number of live stitches remaining between your stopping point and the absolute corner. There should be 25. Work that final repeat. If there are too few or too many, adjust your rate of attachment by either working one or more attachment points as sl 1, K1, psso instead of sl 1, K2tog, psso; or as sl 1, K3 tog, psso. The former should be done if you've got fewer than 25 stitches remaining; the latter if you have more than 25.

With luck and planning you'll reach the absolute corner stitch on the last row of the pattern repeat - the last row in the first segment of Chart 4. You then work the plain return row, and embark upon the next segment of the edging chart. Work across all the stitches as directed. You'll end up with one more stitch than is accounted for in the chart. Wrap it short row style. Flip the work over and slip this just-wrapped stitch, then finish off the plain return row. On the next row work the stitches as directed. There will be two left over. Wrap the first one, ignore the one further away from the point of your left hand needle, flip the work, slip the just-wrapped stitch and complete out your plain row. Do the same thing on the remaining rows of the chart, only on each row the number of "sleeping" stitches dormant at the end of the needle will be incremented by one. Finish out this second segment of the chart. That last row will have only two live stitches on it, plus a whole load of sleeping stitches waiting for the next step.

And that next step is to begin the next chart segment. Again work the stitches as directed. This first row is two knits. The next stitch will be one that you had wrapped and set dormant before. Knit it along with the loop around its base, then flip the work over, slip this just-woken-up stitch and finish off the plain side row. Keep doing this - following the chart, waking up the stitch after the current row is completed, flipping the work over, slipping that first newly woken stitch and finishing out the plain side row.

With more luck, by the time you get to the last row of this chart segment you will have woken up all of the formerly dormant stitches, and you'll be ready to march along Side #2 working the main edging repeat.

I have to confess to one major error. Those plain side return rows? I worked them as purls, yielding a stockinette-based edging. It wasn't until I was all the way around the corner and well into Side #2 that I noticed that the directions said to knit them. A garter-based edging would be a tad less curl-prone. I sat there and thought about ripping back, but I decided to keep going as-is.

The flogging will commence in the morning...

In spite of the massive amounts of prose here over the last week or so, I have been knitting away at Alcazar. Here you see progress to date:


In spite of my blurry photo, you can see the fountain area at the bottom of the outer band, surmounted by the alternating pierced and flower-bearing arcade layer. The final edging is knit horizontally across the top. The edging itself is very simple - a wave edging that appears in many variants, both stockinette and garter based (it's stockinette here).

One caveat. If you have never started an edging that's attached across a needle full of live stitches, the instructions in Alcazar might leave you a bit baffled. Here's what happens.

First, you finish out the final row of the outer band but do not break off the yarn. Set it aside. Then taking a DPN of the same diameter as your circ, you cast on the requisite number of stitches using waste string and some sort of provisional cast on (the choice is up to you, but I crocheted mine directly onto my DPN). Now you've got a DPN with a bunch of waste yarn stitches on it. Break off the waste yarn leaving a small tail so the rest of it stays out of your way.

Take the main piece, with the right side facing you (vast areas of this one are in stockinette, so identifying the right side is easy). Put some sort of needle tip cap, rubber band or other plug at the end of what would have been the right hand needle of your original circ. Trust me on this as leaving this end free is a recipe for disaster.

Holding the DPN VERY close to the shawl and using what would have been the left hand needle end of your circ, purl across the provisional cast-on stitches using the main yarn. Now work the first row of the edging chart using the DPN. At the end of it you'll be back at the side where the edging is being attached to the main body. The last stitch of the edging is worked together with the next two live stitches of the shawl body by slipping it, then knitting the two body stitches together and passing the slipped edging stitch over the just-completed K2tog.

You'll find that most patterns that work an edging on like this direct that every so often the rate of attachment be increased, to make up for the fact that knit rows and knit stitches are rarely the same height. In this particular pattern, the final row of the repeat is attached by slipping the last two edging stitches, knitting two body stitches together, then passing BOTH edging stitches over the just-made K2tog.

Keep working the edging back and forth following the chart. You'll find that once you've finished the first repeat you can ditch the DPN and use the two ends of your original circ if you prefer. In my case, my only 3.0mm DPN was a non-slippy aluminum one that was driving me crazy. As soon as I could I went back to using both ends of my nice, shiny, ultra-slick Inox circ.

Although this method is most commonly seen in attaching lace edgings to live edges, you can use it to knit any horizontally-worked strip to the live stitches of vertically knit edge. You'll need to play a bit with the rate of attachment to make sure your edging lies as you like - either ruffled (increase the number of edging rows per body stitches), flat, or a bit cupped (decreasing the number of edging rows to body stitches) - but not having a seam to work is always very much appreciated.

I'm working (albeit in the background) on a project to get "Kitchener Stitch" and "to Kitchener" into the Oxford English Dictionary. I've already corresponded with an OED committee member and he is fascinated by the historical connection. Should we find sufficient documentation he would be glad to nominate the term for inclusion.

I've gone on? about this before - mostly noting that until knitters on both sides of the Atlantic began talking to another via the 'Net, no one really noticed that that this term for grafting (especially in sock toes) was far more common in the U.S. and Canada than it was in the U.K.

This is in spite of the fact that Earl Horatio Herbert Kitchener was a prominent British military figure in WWI, and a pre-1900 hero of the Sudan Wars. He's also the guy after whom the Sirdar yarn company was named (a pal of his owned it and named it after Kitchener's title during his tenure in the Sudan). You've all seen Kitchener's picture, he's the guy in the major league mustache who figured so prominently in British WWI recruitment posters.



So far research has turned up some tantalizing facts:

Just before and in the early part of WWI, Lord Kitchener was in charge of updating the British military kit, and oversaw the development of standards for all items of battle dress and equipment, including socks. Whether or not he (or his staff) issued military specifications for socks that included seamless toes is still a tidbit we have not pinned down.

Grafting as a technique to close up sock toes appears to not have been widespread before the 1920s, and with very, very few exceptions is not documented before 1920. We are still looking for exact, research-grade citations for the earliest specific mention of grafting (with a technique description) to close up sock toes. We've got some anecdotal references, but nothing we can take to the committee.

The term "Kitchener Stitch" or "Kitchener Grafting" is still not pegged down, although other sources lead me to believe that it was first used in a socks-for-the-troops pamphlet issued by the Canadian Red Cross circa 1916 - possibly from Kitchener, Ontario. This theorized pamphlet has not yet been found. One pebble in the gears of this theory is that Kitchener, Ontario was only named in 1916. (It changed its name from "Berlin" at that time as part of the general anti-German sentiment common during the War.). ?? Again, any leads on this (with research grade citations) are most welcome. We've got one from around 1923 or so as our earliest.

Jean Miles in Edinburgh is investigating another theory - that Lord Kitchener (or someone acting in his name) either endorsed or submitted a sock pattern? to those knitting for British Expeditionary Forces at the outset of WWI. Again she's got no true citations, and is looking for leads.

As far as the technique of grafting in general - it appears to be rare before 1920, if in fact it was done at all. Socks of that era usually had round toes of some kind, and were terminated with a simple draw the yarn end through the last several stitches type closure. Some used variants of the three-needle bind off, but grafting (under any name) is absent in museum samples before 1920 or so. Deborah Pulliam wrote to me to say that in the course of her research she has examined hundreds of pre-1900 and post-1900 socks and stockings, plus hundreds of early knitting manuals and instruction sheets, and she has not yet found a grafted toe prior to 1920. She also states that flat toes were extremely rare prior to 1910, and are totally unrepresented in socks and stockings prior to 1850.

There is another style of sock, I believe it is a full sole re-footable one that was called a Kitchener Sock sometime around the late teens, early 1920s, but it does not resemble the socks common today, nor has the use of any grafting to make that sock been noted. Once more, a good citation is lacking.

By research grade citations, I mean full annotation - name of author, name of publication, date and place of publication, page number of the citation, and a quotation of the paragraph in which the term appears.

So if you've got access to a local research library or Red Cross archive and have nothing better to do, please poke around and let me know the result. You might be the person responsible for correcting this grievous oversight and getting Kitchener into the OED.