Colours of springtime

 

My friend Louisa called around today and brought these beautiful tulips for me.  

The colours are so vibrant and uplifting.  I really should make something in this palette!

 

 

Thank you, Louisa.  xx

Frothy thoughts - Lace knitting from the start

As well as a Fair Isle fascination, I've been trying my hand at lace knitting.

There have been a few attempts at lacy items in the past, such as a Zimmerman Pi Shawl :

 which I gave to my niece as a baby present.  It doesn't look too dreadful here, but there are a fair few mistakes in it to be truthful and it made me vow not to knit with fluffy fluffy kid-silk haze for such intricate projects in the future. Although, actually, now I know this is not all that intricate - rather a matter of counting.

A few flings with Noro also confirmed my deep hatred of that particular yarn, but two shawls later:

Noro

Holden Shawlette knitted in sock wool

 I decided not to fiddle about on the edges but to get a proper lace project on the go.

Hence The St Ninian's Scarf , knitted in 1-ply Shetland Lace (practically cobwebs!) and designed by Mary Kay for Jamieson and Smith of Lerwick.  Here it is at an early stage - a point at which Tom asked what on earth it was meant to be.  Well, perceptions differ.  He thought it was a bit of scrat whilst I thought it looked lovely and frothy at this point.  True, you can't really see how the lace will turn out at this stage, but already I was learning a few things.  

1)  Persistence.  What you see is 4th attempt to get that far.  4th!  Ripping back and starting right from the beginning again!   Drop a stitch or make it badly, miss your counting, speak to someone, look up briefly, sneeze --- any of those things and you have really lost it with this kind of lace.  The mistake just runs and runs, right to the bottom, bringing up whacking great holes that you can never fathom how to fix.  I can take back and fix mistakes, do serious knitting surgery for others on all sorts of projects, but lace?  Nope, it has a life of its own.  So to get this far involved a lot of bitten bullets and blue air.  However, things got better when I learned about...

2) Lifelines.  Look carefully at the image above and you will spot a thread of red near to the knitting needles (improvised dpns with beads temporarily stuck on).  This is a very aptly named lifeline.  At certain points in the knitting, say every 10 rows or at the end of a pattern repeat, the canny lace knitter takes a sewing-needleful of contrast thread and takes it through every stitch on the knitting pin.  And there it rests.  If now, by chance, a stitch or three go astray they will only run down as far as the lifeline where they can be retrieved.  And even if that means completely ripping back 9 rows (or more) to that lifeline, it is a darned sight easier than starting over for the fifth time, believe me. 

A few points on lifelines - 

•  contrast thread can be anything.  Some people use dental floss which is actually brilliant.  I tried it but went to red thread because I couldn't see the difference between floss and the yarn so well, and you need to see it because,

• when you knit your next row you need to be careful to knit the stitches cleanly without taking up the lifeline at all.  You don't want it knitted into your lace, because later you need to remove it, whether at the end of the work, or more bravely after the next 10 rows or so to re-introduce it in a new position. 

• Also, if you are using a stitch marker to identify a border or pattern repeat, do not thread the lifeline through it.  If you do it will stay with the lifeline rather than move up through the rows as you knit, therefore defeating its purpose.

Now the St Ninian's Scarf is a small lace project, a scarf measuring just 9" by 41" with reasonably simple stitch patterns, so it is excellent for a beginner such as my self to cut their teeth on and learn the techniques.  The pattern is charted and uses the following 'takes' or decreases ...
k2tog
ssk
s1 k2tog psso.  The first two of which can get very confusing indeed on a chart as they are the mere difference between / and \.  So a bear of little brain like myself found out that beginners can take...

3) Shortcuts.  Until you have learned how lace behaves it is absolutely ok to do all the single decreases as k2tog (or ssk if that is your preference) without seriously affecting the pattern.  Now I know that purists and expert lace knitters will throw their aprons over  their heads at this suggestion, but remember that we are still learning.  It is my firm belief that a first project means getting the hang of how things behave.  Save refinement and technical expertise for later.
Likewise s1 k2tog psso can be substituted.  This operation always makes for a rather baggy over stitch, which is eliminated (and easier to perform) as k3tog.

4) Dressing.  Over the last few years I have become ardently converted to blocking knitting rather than just  wearing it as soon as it comes off the needles.  In lacework, blocking is known as dressing, and experienced Shetland lace knitters have all kinds of boards and wires and contraptions for achieving the finish on their (breathtakingly beautiful) knitted items.  But for less expense at home I did this:

Take finished knitting (scratty-looking or otherwise) and fold cast-on edges together (both cast-ons due to construction of this piece).
Sew sides together into a tubey-baggy sort of affair using cotton thread.

Wash gently and carefully and take most of water out by rolling in dry towels.

Stretch over a piece of cardboard 20% wider and longer than finished measurements.  Join the scallop points of the short edging by sewing them together.

Leave the whole lot to dry.

(You may notice the ends are still visible.  Although woven in, it is best not to cut them off until after the scarf is dressed.)

Once dry, carefully (and I mean carefully!) snip away the cotton stitching to remove scarf from dressing board.






Voila! 

 

And on to the next lace project ..., although my imagination has been caught by knitting two socks at the same time, one inside the other, and Tom would like a hat, and one day his fine scarf  and,....

Half term - Monday

This is what we made today:

Dan Lepard's "One-a-day cookies" from his book Short and Sweet.  We think it is impossible to eat only one of these, so ours are called 2-a-day cookies (although we get twice as many cookies from his recipe mix as he claims it will make, so that's fair).  And:

a little heart (pin)cushion, made by Mary using new sewing machine and hand stitches.  And:

padded coat hanger for sweaters and delicate bits e.g.

Not bad for one day which also contained a good deed involving lots of cardboard boxes and, will soon include a session at aerobics.   So, that is Monday...

Steeking? A knitting term, so look away now if you must!

I am in the middle of a blanket, knitted in Shetland wool, designed by the very talented Kate Davies.  The amazing design composed of rams and ewes (or yowes as Kate tells us they are called by Shetlanders) is knitted in the round so that all rows are knit, and the pattern flows nicely.  With the aid of a steek - a narrow extra band of knitting that is not included in the main pattern - the fabric can be cut and laid flat for borders to be included.

central checkered area  =  steek

Steeking is a very useful technique for colour-patterned knitting because it means the knitter never needs to do pesky purling in the main pattern.  Garments are knitted as tubes and then cut to create armholes and necklines, or front openings for waistcoats, cardigans or jackets.  It is a part of the knitting traditions of many countries.   The most terrifying thing about it for first-time steekers is that you have to cut the beautiful piece of patterned fabric that you have spent ages creating.  Yes, CUT it, really, with scissors!

There seem to be a number of methods and lots of advice available in books and on the internet for those brave/mad enough to want to try it.   I know some people like to follow video tutorials on you tube, but my most useful sources have been Elizabeth Zimmerman's books and Eunny Chang's tutorial series.  

My first steeking experience was with a cardigan knitted in Norwegian wool to a design by Solveig Hisdal (Poetry in Stitches).  Once the fabric was cut I followed the instructions as given, which produced very neat little facings to cover the cut ends:

  It was a success, and gave me the courage to try out other methods and garments.

Next, a Fair Isle slipover from Folk Vests (Interweave Knits) by Cheryl Oberle , where once cut and machine-sewn the steeks just seem to stay firm even though visible.

I had thought about covering them with sewn-on binding or tape, but they don't appear to need it even after wearing.  This experience bears out Eunny's comments that some Shetlanders don't even bother reinforcing because the wool holds together without it.  Fine for real Shetland wool then, but don't try it with anything less.

Back to the blanket.  Kate's pattern tells us to use the crochet reinforcement method for this.  I tried it thus:

and promptly ripped the crochet out.  I am with EZ on this - knitting and crochet really don't mix!  Back to the machine sewing method:

and all's well again.  Now for the (long) border....
                                                                               

Sopping

We are currently having a few nice fine days in Oslo, but these follow some pretty intensive rain.  I know that all over the world people are complaining about the wetness of summer 2011, the Norwegians among them, but as a Brit used to rain all year round, I am still astounded by the amount of water that can fall from the sky here.  It seems to just drop, like a huge grey theatrical curtain, and the streets of the city become rivers in an instant.  Whether this is some geographical phenomenon, related to clouds rolling in from the fjord, I don't know, but it is quite impressive.


Anyway, the point is that when it rains the place is positively sopping and all of the above has probably just been my preamble to a really rotten pun about mushrooms.



On a very wet Saturday Mary and Tom went hunting for sopps - mushrooms - with some Scandinavian friends.  The Norwegians are very keen on obtaining food from the wild, whether that involves shooting elk or scouring the woods for bilberries and chanterelles.  Of course, you have to do this with someone who knows their mushrooms properly, or take the consequences.  This trip was a big success and they made a campfire and cooked sausages and mushrooms for lunch.  The rest of the mushroom catch was brought back - more mushrooms for tea - and lots more we have dried to add to risottos later.

But the rain didn't stop - so  M and T had been 'sopping' all day in more ways than one.  (Groan!)

Big skies : Den Norske Opera og Ballett

Mary and I visited the Opera House yesterday.    The largest music and performing arts venue in Norway, it has three stages allowing concerts or dance performances almost every night.  It is the first (so probably still the only) opera house in the world where you can walk on the roof, which is where the first two of these photographs were taken.

The building is right in the harbour area of the city and commands a wonderful view all around.  Architecturally, it is completely stunning both inside and out, so visitors flock to it at all hours of the day and night.  There were lots of people around, even though the pictures don't give that impression.

The picture above looks out into the fjord where this fascinating glass sculpture seems to float.  Everywhere you look in Oslo there is sculpture: a theme for another day's blog...

First time out

Feeling very lost and new to this, and in need of a friend to sit next to me and talk me through the process.   This may well be the most uninspiring blog post ever.  However, I promise to try again...