An unblocked floursack towel that is now in use... and never ironed any more!

I was blocked when I started writing this. No clue where to go with it. It probably shows.

Although blocking is an important part of all needlework, it’s rarely talked about. Every lace knitter knows the magic that happens when you take a mess of a knit wool shawl, wet it and pin it out to dry, stretching tightly. You go from something that looks like a tangled mass of string to an amazing piece of art!

Embroidery gains from washing and blocking, too. When you’re stitching, fabric can get wrinkled and maybe a little grimy, even if you do work with clean hands (eating chocolate while stitching is a bad habit. This is not to say I don’t do it, but chocolate isn’t the easiest thing to get out of linen, especially if you’re stitching with thread that will bleed if washed.)

Anyway. Gently washing your embroidery, gently squeezing the extra water out between two towels (PLEASE don’t wring) and then pinning it out to dry, stretching it on a board to the correct size and shape, does wonders for the crispness of the final product, especially if you’ve been stitching with silk thread.

I’ve also been known to iron my work dry from the back, stretching it into shape as I go, but only if it’s cotton or linen on cotton or linen (or maybe a blend with some polyester or rayon in it).

Of course, on that last point, I also use my hand-embroidered tea towels and flour sack towels as dishtowels, and just toss them into the washer and dryer when they get dirty. If this use was good enough for my grandmother (and it was), it’s good enough for me…

and I don’t have enough people in my life who both appreciate my handwork and are willing to use/wear it. If I want to keep stitching, I need to use what I stitch and knit so it wears out and I need more!

Point? Did I have a point today? Oh. Learn to block your work. Know your materials, and don’t be afraid to put your work (using washable threads and fabric!) on things to use and then use them. You DO like stitching more stuff, don’t you?

Isn't it pretty?!

Last weekend I went to the Carolina Fiber Fest with some friends. It has been a long time since I’ve been to one of this type of event, and I’m afraid I forgot what the wool fumes do to me. For the most part, I was good, and didn’t spend a lot of money.

Unfortunately, I volunteered to teach my friends how to spin (Note to potential friends: Romilly is an enabler… you don’t want to shop textiles with me unless you want a new hobby, or a new toy to play with an OLD hobby…) And to do that, I had to have some of the same wool they were going to be using!

So I came home with five ounces of colonial roving. Pretty blue, turquoise and red.  It sat in my bag until Tuesday. Tuesday I broke down.

More yarn shots.

I borrowed my friend’s new spindle – both of mine had yarn on them already… got to finish that! and I wanted to play with the weight on hers in any case so I knew what she could expect… it’s light.  And two hours of work later, I have a skein of 130 yards of fingering weight singles… I may ply it later, I might not… and a little bit more. And I still have 2/3 of a bag of roving to go! I think I’m going to have a new shawl next fall. What do you think?

*I* think it’s time to dig the spinning wheel out of storage and see what I can do with it.  I originally learned to spin with the intention of spinning my own crewel wool… Maybe I’ll pull that idea back out. Drop spindles are perfect for that, because you can spin a small amount of fiber pretty easily.  I’ll keep you posted as to how that works!

Bleeding Sampler Motifs

I’ve been thinking about comedy and humor recently. Remember way back when in my Welcome post, when I said I wasn’t a needlework humorist? I’ve been trying to figure out why. Some of my current thoughts on the subject make me think that while embroidery is inherently healing, friendly, and beautiful, it doesn’t lend itself to humor like knitting or sewing… Why? I asked.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the only way to really write humor well may be from a position of pain. Pain is where we find the truths about ourselves, and that kind of truth is whence humor really stems.  Even the Yarn Harlot’s humor stems from the mistakes that happen with gauge or with working through a misunderstood pattern.  Maybe that’s why it’s hard for embroiderer’s to move to humor about their work — when I don’t get gauge on a sweater I can end up with a finished project that would alternately fit André the Giant or a Barbie doll. When I mis-stitch a flower petal in a piece of embroidery, I end up with… a misshapen flower petal. Or, when the sampler threads bleed all over the bottom of the fabric and it never comes out… is that funny or just sad?

Yet I can see many opportunities for humor in my sewing – the T-Rex T-tunic for example (always remember to put eas in the arm measurements or you will have T-Rex arms when you put it on!) Turning something flat into something 3-D is ripe for humor. Whereas flat work, like the misshapen flower petal, choosing the wrong color in a needle painting, or my struggle to get the eye in the right place on a profile figure doesn’t have quite the hilarity factor (for the record, I just now realized that my problem is always putting it too far back on the facial profile — drawings will now improve, probably dramatically. Funny though? Probably more pathetic.)

So I’m still trying to find humor in my stitching. Anybody know any funny stitching stories you want to share?

Dad in his new sweater

My father passed away on February 18, having worn his new sweater constantly since Christmas. His 77th birthday would have been on Sunday.

I mentioned  back in December that I’d been knitting, not stitching. This was the result. A month and a half of frantic knitting produced a sweater that my father wore constantly. I think he likes that it’s darker than the light arans Mom and I have given him over the years.

On the other hand, knitting in the evening does produce some problems. The skeins I used were all the same “dye lot” (they’re natural colored wool) but NOT the same shade. That works really well when the lighter piece is the button band, or both sleeves. Not so much when the shade changes noticeably in the middle of the back.  Yet, I doubt anyone will notice it but me…

Cables - click to enlarge

The pattern is one from Patons: appropriately, “Dad’s Cardigan.” Apart from some very strangely worded instructions and a couple of typos that changed the pattern from the way it was shown, it went together pretty easily.  Find the mini-cable twist pattern instructions somewhere else, though.  It’s also a pretty loose stitch count for an Aran knit. But it turned out warm and well-loved, so I’m happy. And so was Dad, which is what really matters!

4. Using multiple colors doesn’t make it smaller.

3. Beads don’ t have to have big holes to use them.

2. In general, my thread stash takes up less space than the yarn stash.

1…. No gauge issues. If something is 14 stitch to the inch, 140 stitches WILL be 10 inches, give or take a millimeter for thread thickness. An 8 X 8 inch design drawn on my fabric will stay 8 X 8 inches, no matter how I stitch it. If I use a thick cord around the outside, it MIGHT add a millimeter or two. Maybe.  I drew my curtain to fit my window.  The embroidery will fit my window. (The curtain now… that’s sewing. That’s another story… seams can migrate like gauge, if you’re me.)

So…

Why have I spent the last week with knitting needles in my hands instead of an embroidery needle? Especially since today I literally threw out the project and gave up after three tries when the multi-colored sock STILL doesn’t fit over my heel to get it to the ankle… despite making gauge. Despite everything. Yeah.  I think I’ll stick with socks made out of one thread and no fair isle. Multi-colored knitting… Well, I’m considering buying this sweater pattern and knitting it. If I do, I’ll make a ruling on more than one color in my knitting after I’m done…  and, if it doesn’t work, the designer has a cross stitch pattern to match it!

The "unfiled" thread stash drawer #1

Now that I have your attention.

Let me start by saying that I LOVE Stephanie Pearl-McPhee. I wish very much that I could write humor like her. Cute I can be. Whimsical, yes. Drop dead laugh out loud funny I’ve never managed. Durn it. I think the embroidery world needs someone like her. It probably ain’t gonna be me, though, sadly. Though who knows? Writing styles evolve.

I’ve been rereading the book Stephanie Pearl-McPhee Casts Off.  And rolling off the couch laughing, especially if I’m reading it out loud to my heart-sister, who is… knitting.  I’m not a Knitter (with a capital K), but I am a knitter. I say this because I am not obsessed forever with knitting. In 30 years of knitting my stash has not really grown bigger than two bins, and I’m getting rid of one of them this month! In fact, I started knitting up a sock this week and  I hadn’t held knitting needles (except to stick them in my hair to hold it up) for a year (I often find my laying tools there, too… but that’s another story).

Anyway. There’s a chapter on geography of the land of knitting, and she includes these words:

“You may find knitting’s geography all over the planet, but some geography you can find only [emphasis mine] in Knitting. Of all these features, the most significant is the phenomenon of stash.”

As all embroiderers know, this is completely untrue. I first ran into ALL the terminology knitters use in the embroidery world: frogging, stash, SABLE (Stash Acquisition Beyond Life Expectancy). The only things missing were “knit” and “purl” (embroiderers have needles, too, they’re just slightly different!)

Some of the thread/accessory boxes for the Stash. Yes. The one on the bottome DOES say "bunny fur." I swear I'll find a use for it someday!

So I would like to propose a slightly expanded geography of this world of ours. We all live on the continent of Fiber Arts.  Lacers, Embroiderers, Knitters, all.  Me, I live in the county that’s the equivalent of Alsace-Lorraine. Always being fought over. Never sure if I’m part of France or Germany (or Lace, or Knit, or Embroidery). Most of my life I’ve been more a part of Embroidery (and I migrate among ALL the counties – Cross Stitch, Stumpwork, Goldwork, Crewel, etc.) than the other two, but I do make quite regular forays into the others. Beading is an island off our continent — like the UK with Europe, it shares some of the same geography, such as stash, but has a very different view of culture and life.

Just offhand, I can think of bargello, berlin, broderie anglaise, hardanger, mountmellick, stumpwork, cutwork, punto in aria, zardozi, bunka, japanese embroidery, wessex embroidery, counted cross stitch, band samplers of every ilk, canvaswork, goldwork, shisha, macramé, blackwork, or nué, crewelwork, schwalmwork, Dresdenwork, Assissiwork, and so on…

My problem, of course, is that when it comes to thread I am a glutton. I want to learn everything and try every technique, no matter how complex. Of course, this isn’t feasible, especially when you realize that I include all thread work in that desire – including knitting, crochet, bobbin lace, needlelace, sprang and any number of other techniques that escape me at the moment, including plain sewing. (I have made a conscious decision NOT to try naålbinding — knitting on TWO needles was confusing enough for me. I don’t really want to try knitting with only one, however historical it is.

There isn’t, of course, enough time in the day to explore everything I want tot do. I try not to let that stall me, and just keep going. I do find myself back at three in particular that I love: cross stitch, silk shading, and crewelwork. I’m sentimental, and these are the three that my mother and grandmother taught me. Somewhere I still have my first cross stitch sampler — the one that took me four years to finish because I kept getting bored. When I find it I’ll post it. I have some sort of idea of charting it (it was stamped on cheap muslin) and doing it again in my current ability level and then framing them side by side. I think it would be cool. Will I make the time? Who knows.

I learned the lace pattern in some sweater that I knit a while ago that didn’t work on me at all. I had the swatch left over, though and applied it to mitts.

Pattern below the picture. As usual, copyright belongs to G. Romilly Mueller, all rights reserved, feel free to use for personal use only, no commercial use, and if you’d like to post to your site, please post a link here rather than reprinting.

Patons classic merino in Royal Purple

Size 4 (3.5mm) and 2 (2.75mm) needles

Gauge: 12 stitches over 2 inches on smaller needles         

Cast on 48 stitches on larger needles.

Work k2p2 ribbing for 2 inches.

Switch to smaller needles and begin lace pattern as follows:

Row 1: P1, K1, SSK, YO, SSK, YO, K1, YO, K2tog, YO, K2tog, K1 Repeat 3 more times.

Row 2: P11, K1, repeat 3 more times.

Row 3: P1, SSK, YO, SSK, YO, K3, YO, K2tog, YO, K2tog. Repeat 3 more times.

Row 4: P11, K1, repeat 3 more times.

Repeat lace pattern until work measures 6 inches, ending with a wrong side row.

Knit a row.

Purl a row.

Switch to larger needles and work K2P2 ribbing for 1 ½ inches.

Bind off.

Seam the 1 ½ inch long ribbing, leave 2 ½ inches open for the thumbhole, and seam the rest of the mitt.

Pick up and knit 24 stitches around the thumbhole on the smaller needles. I did this in the round, but you could pick up the ribbing straight before you stitch the lower part of the glove together, and then just run the seam up the thumb ribbing as well. 

Work 2 rounds of K1P1 ribbing. Cast off.

Weave in ends.

Make the second one.

Copyright G. Romilly Mueller, 2008

Knit on size six needles with KnitPicks Shine yarn. I love this stuff. And it really DOES wash well!

Anyway. On to the bad picture!

I think when I knit it again I’ll make a couple of changes: First, despite the called-for amount of garter stitch edging, the hem rolls. I’ll double it at least. It’s not a big deal right now, but I could see it being a problem in a silk top intended for something other than my casual office.

I’ll add a half-inch to the armhole depth . Although I like the fact that they come up higher than most, they just aren’t quite deep enough to be comfortable for me. That extra half-inch should solve the problem.

Highly recommended. On me it doesn’t look very good with more than an inch of ease. Your mileage may vary.

Those who know me know, I am not a small lady. I am not petite, though I am told repeatedly that I do not look my size. This is wonderful. I’m five foot eight and a half, and come from good German peasant stock… I’m solid. I was teaching a dance class last week when my pseudo-nephew, trying to figure out his arms, touched mine and said, “You have steel bars!” This is not bad at all.

But this means that my knitting, if I knit for myself, has to be large. It means that my knitting, if it’s going to look good on me, cannot be knit with bulky or super-bulky yarns. I knit loosely, often going down 3-4 needle sizes when knitting. SO I end up knitting huge sweaters on… er… American size 2 needles? (That’s 2.75mm for the rest of you). Socks are the same way, although my tension is tighter in the round, so I don’t have to go down needle sizes so much. I admit: I sometimes break these rules just to knit a giant sweater faster… When I want warm, I don’t necessarily care about stylish, despite what Stacy and Clinton of What not to Wear tell me!

The other problem with this is that I have giant clown feet (many thanks to Wendy at WendyKnits for the terminology…). I can’t complain about knitting socks for my husband, because, while our feet may be slightly different in size, that extra inch in length on him isn’t that much! (And knitting sweaters for him will be much easier, because his chest is 10 inches smaller than mine…)

Giant clown feet for me mean that women’s knit patterns are never big enough: Standard women’s sock patterns are for an 8.5 inch circumference around the foot. A lot of designers also like the short row heel because it’s smoother. Now I’m 10 inches around the foot, in addition to a 10 inch LONG foot. And my heel is deeper than can comfortably fit in a short row heel. Discovering the heel pattern on Widdershins at knitty.com was pure serendipity.

And most men’s knit sock patterns are boring, because most men don’t WANT interesting patterns…(harumph) I’ll never be able to knit the jaywalkers everyone is drooling over without completely revamping the pattern for my giant feet.

But enough whinging. In any case, I’m knitting myself a pair of knee-highs right now. (Why, you ask, if you have giant feet and tree trunks for legs?) Because I’m cold. That’s why. Of course, by the time I’m finished, the trees will be in bloom and the wonderful southern spring will probably be turning to 80 degree, 100% humidity, but what the heck. I’m cold now, so I’m knitting knee-highs. Theoretically, it will get cold next year, too!

I am knitting them in Patons Classic wool, in the Rosewood colorway. This means that they are striping (kind of – it’s an ombre pattern). It’s also a worsted weight yarn, mostly so it would knit faster, though I’m still knitting them on number 2 needles (I THOUGHT I had fours at work… and just HAD to start them on my break last week…) My feet and legs are going to have horizontal pseudo-stripes in pink, maroon and brown. I plan to wear them with skirts and my Birkenstock sandals to keep my legs warm in winter. Take that, Stacy and Clinton!