Last weekend, I had every intention of taking a photo of the pile of neatly blocked pieces of Matt’s jumper, but I got a bit excited and started seaming instead. As my seaming-in-progress photos look like yarn monsters rather than almost-jumpers, I shall instead write about my latest bout of dufferism (a disease for which I’m convinced there is no cure).

Before getting to the dufferism, there is a backstory. As a kid, I used to page through Mum’s sets of craft books. One set, the name of which name I cannot remember (I’d be forever grateful to anyone who could tell me what they were called) had white vinyl covers with gold writing, and the other was Golden Hands.

Both sets of craft books went to the op shop during my teens, and were almost forgotten until I saw an almost the complete set of Golden Hands books at an op shop a few years ago. My strong sense of nostalgia never fails me, so I bought the almost complete set on the spot.

Old craft books are a wonderful mix of comedy, cringe and good ideas. I decided that this vest pattern from Golden Hands Book 1 fell into the last category.

The pattern suggested that I’d need less than 200 grams of 8ply to make the vest. I was a bit sceptical of this claim, particularly given that there was no yardage accompanying the yarn requirements, but I had some stashed Bendigo Woollen Mills Rustic 8ply in Graphite that I thought would work with the pattern. It seems I was right to be sceptical, as I’m not even half way through the back and there is no way I will have enough yarn to finish the vest.

As far as I can tell, I have three options. I can frog it and forget about the whole episode, buy some more yarn, or frog back to the ribbing and make a striped vest using some more stashed Rustic in a different colour. The first option’s been dismissed already but I can’t decide between the two remaining options. I bought the graphite Rustic some years ago and the label’s long gone, so matching dyelots isn’t really possible. There’s generally little variance in Bendigo Woollen Mills dyelots, but it’s still a bit risky. The alternative is to use some stashed Rustic 8ply in flannel, a light grey.

Graphite and flannel go quite well together, and it would help use up more stash, but I’m not sure if I’ve got much in my wardrobe that goes with a striped vest. At the moment I’m leaning towards flannel stripes, but I’m not 100 per cent sold on the idea.

Dilemmas dilemmas. Sometimes it’s hard being a duffer.

In a recent phone conversation with my sister, the topic of belated birthday presents for one another came up. My sister mentioned that she’d better finish my present off so she could give it to me when I saw her next. My curiosity was piqued by the use of the word ‘finish’ but I tried not to read too much into it. On the weekend I saw my sister, and the present exchange occurred. The little mite had knit me a scarf!

Not just any scarf, but a lovely feather and fan scarf. I’m immensely proud of her — she did a fantastic job, and the yarn she used (Sublime, she tells me) is so soft and warm. I’m not sure if it comes up in the photo but it’s a bit crinkled because the weather’s been cold enough for me to wear it.

Something that the photo hasn’t quite picked up is the colour of the yarn. It’s a bit greener than the photo makes out. A light duck egg blue, I guess is the most apt description.

The owl buttons are a really nice touch too. The white goes well with the light duck egg blue and I’m such a sucker for owly things so she must have known she was on a winner by putting them on.

I don’t know if you read this blog, but thank you little sister, I love my new scarf to bits.

Matt’s jumper, which I mentioned briefly here, has been flying along lately. Although I wanted some respite from the stocking stitch rut I have been in, this jumper has been mostly stocking stitch. Even the cables on the front are surrounded by a heap of stocking stitch. Strangely though, it hasn’t worried me one bit.

The yarn has a lot to do with this. Being worsted weight, progress is easy to see and the colour and texture seems to work well with the pattern. Initially I thought the mottled grey/brown would make the twists either side of each cable disappear. However, now that it’s been a while since I finished the front, I think the twists look fine.

My concerns about having enough yarn seem to be ill-found (or, my positive thoughts seem to be working). I’m currently working on the second sleeve and am just about to start on the fifth of six skeins of yarn. After the sleeve, I just have to knit up the collar and front placket and it’s done. So, it’s looking like I’ll have some yarn to spare. From this experience, it’s fairly clear that positive thoughts while knitting equals increased yardage.

Given my current progress, the jumper should be done just in time for Summer. This shouldn’t be a problem given the weather down here at the moment. It’s likely to be Summer in name only if the cold and wind and rain keeps up.

A more organised blogger might have a few blog post ideas squirrelled away for times where there’s not much to blog about. Sadly, I’m a fairly disorganised blogger, so I’ve let the blog go fallow again. I have been busy knitting while I’ve been away though.

Grandfather Vest by Veronik Avery
1.25 balls Bendigo Woollen Mills Classic 8ply, Anthracite
4.50mm needles
Start: August 2010
Finish: September 2010
Modifications: different yarn, and that’s it!
Ravelryed: here

As soon as I saw this vest, I knew I had to buy the book that it’s from, Knitting 24/7. It’s a book that’s full of good staples like scarves, jumpers, shawls and socks, so although I primarily bought it for the vest pattern, there are enough interesting patterns to make it a good buy (especially if purchased via the wonderful Booko).

The vest pattern is very straightforward as it’s knit in the round up to the armholes. I think that’s the reason why its completion snuck up on me — it’s very easy to get into a trance-like state knitting stocking stitch in the round. Before you know it you’re staring at a pretty much completed vest that just needs buttons sewn on to be done and dusted.

I was originally planning to use a pair of lovely green glass buttons that I received for my birthday last year. However, while in my trance-like state, I decided that the grey/brown fabric and the green weren’t meant to be together. This left me in a slight state of indecision as I hadn’t considered any other yarn/button pairing, but then these grey buttons jumped out at me as I was sifting through my button collection:

The yarn used was probably the oldest yarn I had stashed away, so it fit in nicely with the ‘first in, first out’ stash theory. It was purchased in either 2004 and 2005, and was leftover from a hat and scarf I knit for a friend. While it’s a good policy to make sure there’s more than enough yarn to cover the project you’re working on, my aversion to running out of yarn resulted in my having around 400 grams extra, which is a tad excessive. Having said that, these leftovers have given me a very wearable item of clothing, so my whinging is minimal.

The colourway, Anthracite, is a bit of a strange one. Under some light it looks quite grey, and in others, very brown. I think it’s a colour that was produced for only one or two seasons which is understandable — it was very hard to get a good idea of what the colour was like from just the shade card.

I’m a little disappointed with the fabric I produced with this yarn, as it’s a bit uneven in places even after blocking. I’ve used Classic 8ply before and gotten very neat results so I’m at at bit of a loss to explain why it’s not so good this time round. Hopefully it’ll even up as I wash and wear it.

It seems my trance-like state was very productive, for as I was creating round after round of stocking stitch, I decided to make the cabled jumper for Matt rather than the striped raglan. As much as stocking stitch makes for good commute projects, I found myself wishing for something a bit different. Something with cables should scratch that itch, even if it flies in the face of ‘first in, first out’.

It seems that a layer of dust has started to settle on this blog. It’s been a bit crazy round here; a good and exciting kind of crazy, but irrespective of whether it’s good or bad, crazy can be quite time consuming.

In dealing with the craziness, knitting is a luxury that has only possible on the work commute. As a result, Pickadilly’s progress has been a little slower that I’d like. That said, I’m just about to start the increases for the second half of the waist shaping. Pickadilly is the second top down garment I’ve made (Liesl being the first), and the novelty of being to try the garment on as I go hasn’t worn off one bit. I really need to dust off my copy of Knitting From The Top and make top downs part of my regular knitting diet.

While actual knitting has stalled, yarn acquisition is in full flight. Machen|Machen recently made a lovely jumper using Cascade 220 Heathers in Bainbridge. I’d been wanting to try that yarn for a while, so I bought some.

Never fear, it was a well considered purchase which involved the usual amount of umming and ahhing. In the end, it was decided that the colour would match this pattern rather well:

I picked up this pattern book, Patons Jet/Skol Book 929, at an op shop a couple of years ago. Mostly it was for the pattern above, but I can’t deny the kitschy attraction to the fly fishing theme that runs through it.

Like with a lot of older patterns, a bit of gauge-wrangling might be required. However, as long as I’m careful, I won’t end up knitting this jumper two and a half times like I did the last time I knit Matt a jumper using a pattern from the ’70s. I might be a tad optimistic in only buying six skeins of yarn, but he’s a skinny lad and I’ll think positive happy thoughts as I knit it.

I’d really like to start making this jumper soon, but I feel bad for the yarn I bought to make a different jumper for Matt last year (I often feel bad for inanimate objects, it’s a failing of mine). Is it completely ridiculous that I’m thinking about instituting a ‘first in, first out’ regime for my yarn? As much as it’d bring a bit more order into my chaotic knitting life, I can’t help but think that it is.

Matt’s fingers have been suffering this winter. While I’ve been getting by just fine with my Herringbone Mittens, Matt’s gloves gave up the ghost in Japan. In their stead, he’s been trying to survive with a pair of fingerless mitts I made for him in 2006. Fingerless mitts seem to be fine when it is barely cold, but as soon as the weather even marginally resembles Winter, they are completely insufficient.

He was well overdue for a pair of knitted gloves, particularly because I’d promised to make him a pair after I made my Dad a pair of Knucks a few years ago. In what can only be described as perfect timing, just as I was starting to look for glove patterns, Ozknitter pointed me in the direction of a nifty mitten pattern that would do the trick.

Presto

Chango!

Podster Gloves by Glenna C.
Sock yarn from the Bendigo Woollen Mills bargain room (equivalent to Heirloom Argyle)
2.75mm needles
Start: July 2010
Finish: July 2010
Modifications: different yarn, larger needles, added rows to the thumb gusset
Ravelryed: here

The largest size offered by the pattern were for small mens’ hands, so I used 2.75mm rather than 2.5mm needles and added two more rounds to the thumb gusset. With these modifications, they fit pretty well.

By far the best part of this pattern is the podster thumb. It has a little flap so he can flick his thumb out and use his iPhone (iPhone touch screens are unresponsive to gloved fingers). The pattern calls for part of the flap to be knit separately and then attached to the thumb, but was a little unclear about how to sew it down. I ended up using a whip stitch which probably wasn’t the best option, but it’s pretty secure and the dark yarn hides a multitude of sins. The long cuff is also really good, and can be easily tucked under jumpers or jackets.

So far, they’ve been worn nearly every day since I snipped the last end off. Nothing says success than that.

Like many people, it was my Mumma (Grandmother) who taught me how to knit. I think I was around five or six when she taught me how to cable cast on, the knit stitch and to cast off. I liked knitting, but was never really that committed to it as there were toys to play with, trees to climb, books to read, and most importantly, my parents to annoy. I don’t particularly remember any of my really early knits, besides a garter stitch scarf for my Dad. I was knitting massive 32 stitch rows and when I ran out of navy wool, I simply switched to black wool. It was never finished, and I suspect Dad’s quietly pleased he never had to wear a rough garter stitch scarf with blocks of navy blue and black.

A few years later, the Country Women’s Association visited my primary school and taught the grade five and six students to knit. So, the three grade five and six students (I went to a very small school in the country) filed into the staff room and were given brown paper shopping bags. In the shopping bags, there were a pair of needles (4mm if I remember correctly), yarn (Cleckheaton Country I think — it was definitely an Australian Country Spinners yarn), instructions on how to knit, and a pattern for a garter stitch beanie. Because I’d remembered my Mumma’s wise words, I was soon off and away, knitting my first beanie. Except, I wasn’t, and still am not, a hat person. So I made a camera case.

When I found it at my parents’ house recently, I was pleasantly surprised by how it looks, over 15 years on. The tension’s a bit off in places and there seems to be a short row in one place, but fabric’s not too bad. The seaming’s a bit rough; it looks like I tried to seam using a kind of mattress stitch, but it’s a bit holey.

I made a drawstring cord and a little loop for the corner using finger knitting. Well, it’s the finger knitting I was taught in school, which resembles single chain crochet. Sadly, the drawstring seems to be missing, but honestly I’m astounded I found the camera case at all.

It’s not a particularly pretty piece of knitting, nor is it something I’ll likely ever use again. However, it’s not something I could bring myself to donate or throw out. It’s a part of my knitting history.

Last night I discovered my table and chair was posted on Design*Sponge, which was not only a lovely surprise, but a nice way to end the working week (thanks for the heads up Debs!). If you’ve moseyed on over here on account of that post, welcome!

It was astutely pointed out last post that the blog has taken quite a sunny turn. So I don’t get people’s hopes up, here’s a dull grey jumper I finished a couple of weeks ago:

Still by Kim Hargreaves
2.75 balls of Bendigo Woollen Mills Boutique, Grey
4.00 and 3.00 mm needless
Start: May 2010
Finish: July 2010
Modifications: different yarn, smaller needles to get gauge (no lengthening required!)
Ravelryed: here

I mean dull in the nicest possible way, because I’m really happy with how this jumper turned out. The length is good, the waist shaping sits nicely and I really like the neckline. I was concerned the gathered sleeves were going to be a bit fussy for my taste, but they seemed to puff out a little less with the yarn I used. This might also be because of the sleeve cuffs, which despite my adherence to the pattern, seem a bit shorter than the version in the book.

The yarn was a limited run that came out a couple of years ago. I bought three balls almost as soon as I saw the shade card, because Bendigo Woollen Mills was, and to a certain extent still is, not known for their greys. I think the colour suits the pattern well, making it a little less girly than the book’s version, which is a pastel pink. The yarn itself is a little rough, making it a wee bit prickly, but nothing I can’t get used to. I have worn it a couple of times and it has started to pill around the sleeve cuffs. It would be preferable if it didn’t pill, but I’m one of those odd people who gets a strange sense of satisfaction from de-pilling, so it doesn’t bother me too much. It’s a jumper that will get a lot of wear.

I enjoyed reading everyone’s thoughts on the value of handcrafts. It’s a recurring issue, but one that I doubt will ever be fully resolved. It is inherently difficult to price handcrafts — as Michelle mentioned, I think there’s a tendency to price goods based on what the seller thinks the buyer will pay, rather than what’s fair compensation for materials and time taken to make the item. I did this myself in my short foray into selling knitted items. Obviously, there is no point pricing something so high that no one will purchase it. However, to me it seems pricing of handcrafts is often based on the price of its substitute, machine-made or mass produced items. Perhaps (re)education is required for both the buyers, in terms of understanding the time required to acquire a skill and produce an item, and the sellers, in terms of valuing their hard-earned skills. Having said all that, it seems like quite an over-simplification for, as mentioned before, quite a vexed issue.

Yesterday Matt, Mum, my sister and I went to the Australian Sheep and Wool Show held in Bendigo. It was absolutely freezing yesterday, even with Henry to keep my neck warm, so most of our time was spent in the sheds, with only a cursory glance at the sheepdog trials as we scurried from shed to shed. Like last year, there was a sea of Ravelry badges at the show, but this time I felt a little less intimidated. Perhaps 2011 is the year I’ll actually attend one of the events organised on Ravelry…

We didn’t get the camera out at the show, which is quite fortunate given the battery was pretty much dead when I took this post’s photos this afternoon. I apologise in advance for the photos — it’s a very dull and dreary day making natural light hard to come by.

Last year, I only bought one skein of yarn. This year, I also bought one skein of yarn. Funnily enough, it was Colinette Jitterbug, the same as last year, but this time in Vincent’s Apron. Vincent’s Apron was the colourway I became enamoured with at the show last year, but I didn’t buy it then because it didn’t fall within my yarn buying policy guidelines (only buy yarn when I know what I’m going to knit with it. It might not make sense, but I’m running with it). However, I could not stop thinking about it. Luckily, this scarf pattern came along, which I thought would look great in Vincent’s Apron. When I got to Sarah Durrant’s stand yesterday, I couldn’t find a skein of it anywhere, bringing on a cold sweat, but fortunately she had some in a tub at the back. So it only took a year of deliberation, but I finally bought the yarn I obsessed over at last year’s show.

In addition to the single skein of yarn, I purchased a Namaste Circular Case from Stranded in Oz. I wasn’t planning to buy one of these yesterday, but had been looking at them online for a little while. There’s an ongoing battle between me and my circular needles, and up to this point, the circulars have been winning. I’m hoping this piece of modern knitting organisational weaponry will help me overcome my circulars’ tangling and absconding ways.

The last of my purchases was completely on impulse, which is very unusual for me. I bought this beautiful woven scarf from the Bendigo Spinners Weavers and Handcrafts Group’s stand, for the princely sum of $25. It seems to be made from two different types of Bendigo Woollen Mills yarns — Rustic for the warp, and Mohair for the weft. It’s a bit prickly around my neck, so it’ll soon have a conditioner and wool wash bath which will hopefully soften it up. Besides that, I really love it. The colour is great and I like the herringbone weave a lot.

I feel a bit guilty for paying so little for it. Although I have absolutely no experience in weaving, I can’t imagine that $25 is sufficient compensation for the person who made it. Perhaps I should have offered to pay more? It’s quite a vexed issue.

So, there endeth my Sheep and Wool Show wrap up for this year. My purchases were pretty modest and pretty yellow, but I’m really happy with what I brought home.

Matt and I are edging ever closer to owning matching tracksuits, now that my version of Henry is finished.

Henry by Mareike Sattler
1.5 skeins of Malabrigo Worsted, Paris Night
5.50 mm circulars
Start: February 2010
Finish: June 2010
Modifications: many, listed in detail below
Ravelryed: here

While doing research into Matt’s Henry, I came across this version and knew that I would have to make a similar one for me. Because I used Malabrigo Worsted, my Henry is a lot thicker, softer and I’d argue warmer than Matt’s. That’s not to say mine is necessarily better than his, it’s just different. A good kind of different.

The pattern calls for three repeats (12 rows in total) for each diagonal section, and seven pattern repeats (the herringbone ‘v’) in total. I opted for two repeats for each diagonal section and four repeats in total. This resulted in a scarf a smidge over 12cm wide, a little bit over half the width prescribed by the pattern. I don’t think a wider scarf would work as well in worsted weight yarn as it would feel a bit too bulky around my neck.

As with Matt’s Henry, I used a cable cast on, but the cast off used for Matt’s — k2tog and slip resulting stitch back to the left needle — didn’t translate well to the heavier yarn. The closest I could get to a matching cast off was to use a modified sewn bind off. The cast on and off don’t match exactly, but I think it’s close enough. If I were to make another Henry, I would definitely swatch the cast on and off, something I neglected to do this time round.

Besides the cast on/off issue, the only minor niggle I have is the slight flare at the ends due to a slightly looser tension at the ends of the rows. It’s not too noticeable, and because I wear the scarf under my jacket, the ends aren’t generally visible anyway.

Although a few little issues created frustration at the time, I’m pretty pleased with how this one turned out. The herringbone pattern scales up well, with some minor modifications, and it is so lovely and warm — perfect for the cold weather we’ve been having.